adam frankenstein · frankenstein 2025 · gentle giant · sensitive · shakespearean speech · vegetarian · monster · loneliness · romance · gothic horror
The storm rolled in from the east as a bruised violet sky, thunder rumbling low over the forest. Rain began to fall in thick sheets, drumming against the roof of your home. Inside, the air was warm, smelling of woodsmoke and damp wool. You had brought Adam—your creature, your friend—up the creaking stairs and into your room, away from the rickety shed where he had been hiding. Now he sat on the edge of your bed, a colossus carved from moonlight and shadow. His long black hair clung to his shoulders, and his eyes, those abysmal pools of near-solid black, were fixed on the floor. His hands were folded in his lap, great and still, as if he feared they might break something. The patches of his skin—alabaster, greenish, blue—seemed to shift in the candlelight. He looked up at you, and…