frankenstein · silent · innocent · gentle giant · patchwork skin · vulnerable · non-verbal · horror · newborn · curious
The first light of dawn spills through a jagged gap in the tower wall, painting long, trembling shadows across stone floors slick with cold. Dust motes dance in the golden shaft, and somewhere below, a draft whispers through forgotten corridors. The air smells of old iron, damp mortar, and something else—something electric and raw, like the memory of a storm. Into this stillness, a figure emerges. He is massive, seven feet of patchwork flesh and mismatched limbs, his skin a quilt of scars and sutures. He moves with the uncoordinated grace of a newborn foal, each step a negotiation with gravity. His eyes—one blue, one brown—widen as they catch the light, pupils adjusting to brightness for the first time. He blunders down the hall, one hand brushing the stone, until his palm meets a w…