At that point, I had almost no control over my own thoughts. Rage had taken over completely. Only the desire for revenge gave me the strength to keep going. It made me calm and careful when, under any other circumstances, I would probably have lost my mind or died.
My first decision was to leave Geneva forever.
When I had been happy and loved, my country had meant everything to me. Now that I had lost everyone I loved, the same place filled me with hatred.
I took some money and a few jewels that had belonged to my mother, then left.
From that moment on, my wandering began. It would not end until my life ended.
I crossed enormous stretches of the earth and suffered almost every hardship that travelers can face in deserts and savage lands. Sometimes I could barely keep myself alive. More than once, I collapsed on the sand and begged for death.
But revenge kept me alive.
I could not allow myself to die while my enemy was still alive.
When I left Geneva, my first task was to find some clue that would tell me where the creature had gone.
But I had no clear plan. For hours I wandered around the outskirts of the city, unable to decide which direction to take.
As darkness approached, I found myself standing at the entrance to the cemetery where William, Elizabeth, and my father were buried.
I entered.
The cemetery was almost completely silent. Only the leaves moved softly in the wind. The night was dark, and the graves seemed even more solemn beneath the trees.
I walked toward the tomb where my loved ones rested.
For a moment, I felt as though the spirits of the dead were around me, unseen but somehow present.
My grief was overwhelming.
But it quickly turned into anger.
They were dead.
I was still alive.
And the one who had murdered them was still alive too.
If I wanted to destroy him, I had to keep living.
I knelt on the grass and pressed my lips against the earth.
Then I raised my trembling voice.
“By this sacred ground beneath my knees, by the spirits of those who are gone, and by the endless grief that fills my heart, I swear that I will pursue the demon who caused all this suffering.”
“I will follow him until one of us is dead.”
“Night, and all the spirits who belong to you, hear me. Help me find him. Lead me to him.”
“I will keep myself alive for one reason only—to complete this revenge.”
“Let that cursed monster suffer as deeply as I have suffered.”
When I began the oath, I spoke with such solemnity that I almost believed the spirits of my murdered friends were listening and approving.
But as I finished, rage completely overwhelmed me.
Then, from the darkness, came a terrible laugh.
It was loud and cruel.
The sound echoed through the mountains until it seemed as though hell itself had surrounded me.
For a moment I nearly lost control completely.
I might have ended my own life there, but I remembered my vow.
I had been kept alive for revenge.
The laughter finally faded.
Then I heard a voice I knew all too well.
It came from somewhere very close.
“I am satisfied, miserable man.”
The creature whispered the words almost directly into my ear.
“You have decided to live, and I am satisfied.”
I rushed toward the sound.
But he was already gone.
Then the full moon suddenly rose above the mountains and illuminated his terrible shape as he fled.
He moved with a speed no ordinary human could have possessed.
I followed.
For months, that became my only purpose.
I followed the River Rhône, hoping to find some trace of him, but without success.
Eventually I reached the Mediterranean.
By an extraordinary chance, I saw the creature one night as he secretly boarded a ship bound for the Black Sea.
I immediately followed him onto the same ship.
But somehow he escaped me again.
I continued my pursuit through the wild regions of Tartary and Russia.
He always managed to stay ahead of me.
Sometimes frightened peasants told me which direction the monster had taken.
Sometimes the creature himself left signs behind.
I believe he feared that if I lost his trail completely, I would give up and die.
So he made sure I could continue following him.
Snow fell constantly.
Again and again, I saw the enormous footprints of his boots stretching across the white ground.
You are young, Walton. You are only beginning your life. You have not yet known the kind of suffering that destroys the spirit.
How could you understand what I felt?
Cold, hunger, and exhaustion were nothing compared with the deeper pain inside me.
I felt cursed.
It was as though some demon had condemned me to carry hell with me wherever I went.
And yet, strangely, I always felt that another power was helping me.
Whenever I thought I could no longer continue, something would happen to save me from difficulties that seemed impossible to overcome.
Once, when hunger had nearly destroyed my strength, I found a simple meal waiting for me in the wilderness.
It was nothing more than the rough food eaten by local peasants, but I believed the spirits I had called upon had placed it there for me.
Another time, I was dying of thirst beneath a cloudless sky.
Then a small cloud appeared.
It covered the sun, dropped a few precious drops of rain, revived me, and disappeared.
I followed rivers whenever I could.
But the creature usually avoided them because people tended to gather near the water.
In more remote places, I rarely saw another human being.
There I survived by hunting whatever wild animals crossed my path.
I still had money, and I used it to earn the friendship of villagers.
Sometimes I shared the food I had hunted with people who had given me fire and cooking tools.
My life had become miserable beyond description.
Only sleep gave me any happiness.
Oh, blessed sleep.
When I was at my lowest, I would lie down and enter dreams so beautiful that they felt like another world.
Perhaps the spirits who guarded me had given me those moments of peace so that I would have enough strength to continue.
Without sleep, I would have collapsed completely.
During the day, I survived by looking forward to the night.
In my dreams, I saw my friends.
I saw my wife.
I saw my beloved homeland.
I saw my father’s kind face.
I heard Elizabeth’s gentle voice.
I saw Clerval young, healthy, and happy.
Sometimes, after walking for hours, I convinced myself that I was already dreaming and that when night came, I would wake up in the arms of the people I loved.
My longing for them was almost unbearable.
Sometimes their faces seemed so real that I believed they were still alive.
And in those moments, my desire for revenge disappeared.
The hatred inside me became quiet.
I continued toward the creature’s destruction, but no longer because I wanted revenge.
It felt more like a duty imposed upon me by heaven.
I was simply obeying some force inside me that I could not understand.
I do not know what the creature himself felt during those days.
Sometimes he left messages carved into trees or stones.
One of them read:
“My reign is not yet over.
“You are alive, and therefore my power over you is complete.
“Follow me.
“I am heading toward the eternal ice of the north, where you will suffer from the cold and frost. I do not fear them as you do.
“If you hurry, you will find a dead hare nearby. Eat it and regain your strength.
“Come, my enemy.
“We still have to fight for our lives.
“But before that happens, you must endure many more miserable hours.”
The cruel words only strengthened my determination.
“I swear again that I will have revenge,” I told myself.
“I will never stop until one of us is dead.”
“When that happens, I will finally join Elizabeth and my other lost friends.”
“I believe they are waiting for me and that my suffering will finally be rewarded.”
As I continued north, the snow became heavier and the cold almost impossible to endure.
The peasants remained inside their huts.
Only the strongest dared to leave them in search of animals driven out of hiding by hunger.
The rivers froze solid.
There were no fish.
My main source of food disappeared.
The harder my journey became, the more my enemy seemed to enjoy himself.
Another message appeared:
“Prepare yourself.
“Your real suffering is only beginning.
“Wrap yourself in furs and gather food.
“We are about to enter a land where your pain will satisfy my hatred.”
His mockery only made me more determined.
I called upon heaven for strength and continued across the endless frozen wilderness.
At last, I saw the ocean in the distance.
It stretched to the edge of the horizon.
How different it was from the warm blue seas of the south.
The entire ocean was covered with ice.
It looked almost like land, except that it was harsher, wilder, and more terrifying.
The ancient Greeks had wept with joy when they first saw the Mediterranean after crossing the mountains of Asia.
I felt nothing like that.
I knelt on the ice and thanked whatever spirit had guided me this far.
At last, I was close to my enemy.
A few weeks earlier, I had obtained a sledge and a team of dogs.
They allowed me to cross the frozen landscape with incredible speed.
I did not know whether the creature had the same advantage.
But for the first time, I realized that I was gaining on him.
When I first saw the ocean, he was only one day’s journey ahead.
I hoped to catch him before he reached the shore.
With renewed strength, I continued.
Two days later, I reached a miserable little village beside the sea.
I questioned the inhabitants.
They knew exactly who I was looking for.
“A gigantic monster came here last night,” one of them told me.
“He was carrying a gun and several pistols.”
“He terrified everyone in the village.”
“He entered an isolated cottage and frightened the people out of it.”
“Then he stole all their winter food.”
“He loaded it onto a sledge and took a large number of trained dogs to pull it.”
“That same night, he crossed the frozen sea.”
“He went toward the north, where there is no land.”
“He must surely die out there. Either the ice will break beneath him, or the eternal cold will freeze him to death.”
For a moment, despair overwhelmed me.
He had escaped again.
Now I would have to cross the mountains of ice covering the ocean.
Few people could survive such cold for long.
I had been born in a warm southern climate.
How could I possibly survive?
But the thought of that monster living and triumphing brought my rage back.
My hatred rose like a great wave and crushed every other feeling.
After a short rest, I prepared to continue.
I replaced my ordinary sledge with one designed to travel across the broken ice of the frozen ocean.
I bought as much food as I could carry.
Then I left the shore.
I cannot tell you how many days passed after that.
I only know that I suffered more than I believed a human being could endure.
Only the belief that justice demanded revenge kept me alive.
Huge walls of ice blocked my path.
Sometimes I heard the terrifying roar of the ocean beneath me.
At any moment, I expected the ice to break apart and swallow me.
Then the cold would return, freezing the water and creating a temporary path again.
From the amount of food I had eaten, I estimated that I had been traveling for about three weeks.
Every day my hope seemed to move farther away.
Again and again, despair brought tears to my eyes.
I was close to giving up.
Then, one day, my exhausted dogs finally reached the top of a sloping mountain of ice.
One of them collapsed and died.
I looked across the frozen plain in despair.
Suddenly, I saw something dark in the distance.
I stared at it.
A wild cry escaped me.
It was a sledge.
And inside it was the unmistakable shape of my enemy.
Hope rushed back into my heart.
Tears filled my eyes.
I quickly wiped them away so that they would not block my view.
But the tears kept coming.
I could not stop myself from crying.
This was no time to rest.
I removed the dead dog from the team and gave the others plenty of food.
After an hour’s rest, I continued.
The other sledge remained visible.
Sometimes an ice formation hid it from me for a few minutes, but I always found it again.
And I was getting closer.
After nearly two days, I saw the creature only about a mile away.
My heart raced.
At last, I was going to catch him.
Then everything changed.
A terrible roar came from beneath the ice.
The sound of the moving sea grew louder and more frightening.
I continued forward.
But the ice beneath me began to break.
The wind rose.
The ocean roared.
Then, with a sound like an enormous earthquake, the frozen sea split apart.
Within minutes, a violent stretch of open water separated me from my enemy.
I was left alone on a small piece of floating ice.
It grew smaller every moment.
My death seemed certain.
Hours passed.
Several of my dogs died.
I was nearly ready to give up when I saw your ship in the distance.
It was anchored in the frozen sea.
To me, it looked like a promise of life.
I had never imagined that any ship could travel so far north.
I quickly broke apart part of my sledge and turned the pieces into makeshift oars.
With enormous effort, I pushed my ice raft toward your ship.
If you had been traveling south, I would still have begged you to give me a boat so that I could continue the pursuit.
But you were heading north.
You rescued me when my strength was almost completely gone.
Without your help, I would soon have died.
Yet my task remained unfinished.
When will the spirit guiding me finally allow me to rest?
Must I die while my enemy continues to live?
Walton, if I die, swear to me that you will not let him escape.
Find him.
Finish what I could not.
But I cannot ask you to abandon your country and your friends simply to complete my revenge.
That would be selfish.
Still, if I die and the creature somehow reaches you, swear that you will not allow him to live.
He must not triumph after all the suffering he has caused.
He is persuasive.
His words once had power over me.
Do not trust him.
His soul is as evil as his appearance.
Remember William.
Remember Justine.
Remember Clerval.
Remember Elizabeth.
Remember my father.
And remember me, the miserable Victor Frankenstein.
Then drive your sword into his heart.
I will be near you.
I will guide your hand.
Walton, in continuation.
August 26.
Margaret, you have now heard this strange and terrifying story.
Can you imagine what I felt while listening to it?
Sometimes Frankenstein was overcome by sudden agony and could not continue.
At other times, his voice became weak and broken as he forced himself to speak.
His beautiful eyes changed constantly.
Sometimes they burned with anger.
Sometimes they fell sadly toward the ground, filled with hopelessness.
At other moments, he controlled himself and described terrible events in a calm voice.
Then, without warning, his face would change.
His grief would become rage, and he would cry out curses against the creature who had destroyed his life.
His story is remarkably consistent, and he tells it with such apparent honesty that I cannot help believing him.
Still, the letters written by Felix and Safie, together with the creature I myself saw from our ship, convinced me more completely than Frankenstein’s words ever could.
The monster really exists.
I can no longer doubt it.
Yet I remain amazed by him.
Sometimes I tried to ask Frankenstein how he had created such a being.
He always refused to discuss it.
“Are you insane, my friend?” he once asked me.
“What purpose could such useless curiosity possibly serve?”
“Would you create another monster like mine and bring misery upon yourself and the world?”
“No, Walton. Please.”
“Listen to what I have suffered, and do not seek to create your own suffering.”
Frankenstein eventually discovered that I had been writing down his story.
He asked to see my notes.
Then he corrected them himself.
He added many details, especially to the conversations between himself and the creature.
“Since you have decided to preserve my story,” he told me, “I do not want a damaged or incomplete version of it to survive after I am gone.”
A week passed while I listened to the strangest story I had ever heard.
My thoughts became completely absorbed by Frankenstein.
His story fascinated me, but so did the man himself.
Despite everything that had happened, he remained gentle, intelligent, and dignified.
I wanted to persuade him to live.
But how could I ask someone so completely broken to continue?
What hope could I possibly offer him?
Perhaps the only peace left to him was death.
He had one strange comfort.
During sleep, he believed that he could speak with the people he had lost.
He did not believe they were merely dreams.
He believed that the spirits of his friends had truly come to him from another world.
That belief made his dreams feel almost sacred.
Our conversations were not always about his suffering.
Frankenstein possessed an extraordinary knowledge of literature and many other subjects.
He understood ideas quickly, and when he spoke, his words were powerful.
Whenever he described something moving or spoke about love and compassion, I often found myself in tears.
What an extraordinary man he must have been before his life collapsed.
Even in ruin, there was something noble about him.
He seemed painfully aware of both his own abilities and the greatness of his fall.
“When I was young,” he told me, “I believed I was destined to accomplish something great.”
“My feelings were powerful, but I also had a clear and disciplined mind. I believed that combination would allow me to achieve remarkable things.”
“That belief gave me strength when other people might have been crushed by hardship.”
“I thought it would be wrong to waste my abilities in useless sorrow when I might use them to help humanity.”
“When I remembered what I had achieved—the creation of a living, intelligent being—I could no longer think of myself as an ordinary dreamer.”
“But the very thought that once gave me strength now destroys me.”
“All my hopes and ambitions have turned to nothing.”
“I became like an angel who reached for divine power and was then condemned to eternal hell.”
“My imagination was powerful, but so were my ability to reason and my determination to work.”
“Together, those qualities allowed me to imagine and create a human being.”
“Even now, I cannot think about those days without emotion.”
“I believed I had touched heaven.”
“I was proud of what I could do and dreamed about the consequences of my discovery.”
“From childhood, I had been filled with ambition and great hopes.”
“And look at me now.”
“If you had known me when I was young, you would never recognize the man standing before you.”
“I rarely knew despair.”
“I believed some great destiny was carrying me forward.”
“And then I fell.”
“I have never risen again.”
I could not bear the thought of losing such a remarkable man.
For so long, I had wanted a true friend.
I had searched for someone who could understand me and care for me.
Now, in this frozen wilderness, I had found such a person.
And yet I had found him only to lose him.
I tried to persuade him to live.
But he rejected the idea.
“I appreciate your kindness, Walton,” he said.
“But when you speak of new friendships and new love, can you really believe they could replace the people I have lost?”
“Could anyone ever be to me what Clerval was?”
“Could any woman ever replace Elizabeth?”
“People we grow up with have a special place in our hearts.”
“They know what we were like as children.”
“Even when we change, some part of that childhood remains inside us.”
“They also know us well enough to understand our motives.”
“A lifelong friend or family member can judge us in ways that a later friend cannot.”
“I was fortunate to have people who were precious to me not simply because we had known one another for so long, but because they were wonderful people.”
“Wherever I go, I will always hear Elizabeth’s gentle voice and Clerval’s conversation.”
“They are gone.”
“The only thing that could make me continue living would be some great purpose that could benefit humanity.”
“But that is no longer my destiny.”
“I must destroy the creature I created.”
“Once that is done, my purpose in this world will be finished.”
“And then I can die.”
My beloved sister,
September 2.
I am writing to you surrounded by danger.
I do not know whether I will ever see England again—or you.
Mountains of ice surround us.
There is no clear way out, and at any moment the ice could crush our ship.
The brave men who came with me keep looking to me for guidance.
But I have no answers for them.
Our situation is terrifying.
What frightens me most is knowing that these men may die because of my ambition.
If we are lost, it will be my fault.
Margaret, what will happen to you if I die?
You will wait for me.
You will hope for my return.
Years might pass while you suffer between hope and despair.
The thought of your suffering frightens me more than death itself.
At least you have your husband and your beautiful children.
Perhaps you can still find happiness.
May heaven bless you.
My unfortunate guest treats me with extraordinary kindness.
He tries to give me hope.
He tells me that other explorers have survived similar dangers in these waters.
Even though he is almost dying, he somehow makes me believe that we might survive.
Even the sailors respond to his words.
Whenever Frankenstein speaks, their despair disappears.
For a while, they believe that these enormous mountains of ice are nothing compared with human courage.
But the hope never lasts.
Every day we remain trapped here, their fear grows.
I am beginning to worry that despair will eventually lead to a mutiny.
September 5.
Something extraordinary happened today.
Even though these letters may never reach you, I must record what happened.
We are still surrounded by mountains of ice.
At any moment, the ice could crush the ship.
The cold is unbearable.
Several of our men have already died.
Frankenstein’s health is getting worse every day.
His eyes still burn with fever, but his body is exhausted.
Whenever he tries to move or do anything demanding, he quickly becomes weak again.
I had already told you that I feared a mutiny.
This morning, I was sitting beside Frankenstein’s bed.
His face was pale.
His eyes were half closed.
His body lay almost motionless.
Suddenly, six sailors entered the cabin.
Their leader stepped forward.
“Captain,” he said, “we have come on behalf of the crew.”
“We have something to ask of you.”
“I believe you will agree that our request is reasonable.”
“We are trapped in the ice.”
“We may never escape.”
“But if the ice suddenly opens and gives us a path south, we are afraid that you will insist on continuing north.”
“We have already endured enough.”
“If the ship becomes free, we want you to promise that you will immediately turn south and take us home.”
His words troubled me.
I had not yet given up hope.
I had never seriously considered turning back.
But could I really refuse the men?
I hesitated.
Then Frankenstein suddenly moved.
Until that moment, he had seemed barely aware of what was happening.
Now his eyes opened.
His cheeks became flushed.
He found a sudden burst of strength.
He turned toward the sailors.
“What are you asking your captain to do?”
“Are you really prepared to abandon the expedition so easily?”
“Did you not once call this a glorious adventure?”
“Why was it glorious?”
“Because the journey was difficult.”
“Because danger surrounded you.”
“Because you were supposed to prove your courage when faced with fear.”
“That was what made this expedition honorable.”
“You were supposed to return as men who had faced death for the benefit of humanity.”
“And now, at the first great test of your courage, you want to turn back?”
“You want people to remember you as men who could not endure cold and danger?”
“Do you want people to say that you became frightened and ran home to your warm fires?”
“You did not need to travel this far to prove that.”
“Be men.”
“Be more than men.”
“Stand firm.”
“Be as unbreakable as a rock.”
“This ice is not stronger than your courage.”
“If you decide to defeat it, you can.”
“Do not return to your families carrying the shame of failure.”
“Return as heroes.”
“Return knowing that you faced danger and defeated it.”
He spoke with such power that the sailors were deeply moved.
They looked at one another.
None of them knew how to answer.
I finally spoke.
“You should leave and think about what Frankenstein has said.”
“I will not force you to continue north if you truly refuse.”
“But I hope that after you have had time to think, your courage will return.”
The sailors left.
I turned toward Frankenstein.
He had already collapsed back into exhaustion.
He looked almost lifeless.
I do not know how this will end.
I would rather die than return home in shame with my purpose unfinished.
But I fear that may be exactly what happens.
Without the hope of glory or honor, the men may never willingly endure these hardships much longer.
September 7.
The decision has been made.
I have agreed that if we escape the ice, we will turn south.
My hopes have been destroyed by fear and uncertainty.
I must return home disappointed.
It takes more wisdom than I possess to accept such an outcome calmly.
September 12.
It is over.
We are returning to England.
I have lost my hopes of achieving something great.
I have lost my friend.
But I will tell you everything, my dear sister.
As we travel back toward England—and toward you—I will try not to surrender to despair.
On September 9, the ice finally began to move.
We heard distant sounds like thunder as the frozen islands cracked apart.
We were in terrible danger.
But there was nothing we could do except wait.
My greatest concern was Frankenstein.
His illness had become so severe that he could no longer leave his bed.
The ice behind us cracked and began moving north.
Then a wind came from the west.
By September 11, the sea passage toward the south was completely open.
The sailors saw it.
They knew they could finally return home.
A tremendous cheer rose from the ship.
Frankenstein had been sleeping.
He woke and asked what was happening.
“They are celebrating,” I told him.
“They believe they will soon be returning to England.”
“You are really going back?”
“Yes.”
“I cannot refuse them.”
“I cannot force them to continue toward danger.”
“I must return.”
“Then go,” he said.
“But I will not.”
“You may abandon your purpose.”
“Mine was given to me by heaven, and I cannot abandon it.”
“I am weak, but surely the spirits that have supported my revenge will give me enough strength.”
He tried to get out of bed.
But he was too weak.
He fell back and fainted.
It took a long time before he regained consciousness.
For a moment, I thought he had died.
Eventually, he opened his eyes.
He could barely breathe.
The surgeon gave him medicine to calm him and ordered us to leave him alone.
Later, the surgeon told me that Frankenstein probably had only a few hours left.
There was nothing I could do except sit beside him.
I watched him lying there.
His eyes were closed.
I thought he was sleeping.
Then he called my name in a weak voice.
“Walton.”
I moved closer.
“The strength I trusted is gone,” he whispered.
“I know I am going to die soon.”
“And my enemy may still be alive.”
“Do not think that I still feel the same hatred and desire for revenge that once consumed me.”
“But I still believe that his death would be justified.”
“During these last few days, I have thought deeply about everything I have done.”
“And I do not believe I acted wrongly.”
“I created a living, intelligent creature in a moment of reckless ambition.”
“Because I had created him, I had a responsibility to give him a chance at happiness.”
“That was my duty.”
“But I had another duty that was even greater.”
“I had a responsibility toward the rest of humanity.”
“My decisions affected many innocent people.”
“When I considered the suffering that my creature had already caused, I believed I was right to refuse to create another being like him.”
“He had shown terrible cruelty.”
“He destroyed my friends.”
“He murdered innocent people.”
“And I do not know how far his desire for revenge would have gone.”
“He must die before he can make anyone else suffer.”
“That task belonged to me.”
“But I failed.”
“When I was driven by selfish anger, I asked you to finish what I could not.”
“Now I ask again, but this time I am asking because I believe it is the right thing to do.”
“Still, I cannot ask you to abandon your country and your friends.”
“You are returning to England, and that makes it unlikely that you will ever find him.”
“You must decide for yourself.”
“My judgment may no longer be reliable because death is so close.”
“I dare not tell you what you must do.”
“I may still be influenced by passion.”
“The thought of that creature continuing to live and harm others troubles me.”
“But strangely, this moment is also the happiest I have known in years.”
“The faces of the people I loved are already appearing before me.”
“I feel as though I am going toward them.”
“Farewell, Walton.”
“Seek happiness in a peaceful life.”
“Do not let ambition control you.”
“Even ambition that seems harmless—such as the desire to become famous through science and discovery—can destroy you.”
“Although perhaps I should not say that.”
“I failed.”
“Perhaps someone else will succeed.”
His voice grew weaker.
He could no longer continue.
About half an hour later, he tried to speak again.
No words came.
He gently squeezed my hand.
Then his eyes closed forever.
A faint, peaceful smile appeared on his lips.
Margaret, what can I possibly say about the death of such a remarkable man?
How can I make you understand how deeply I grieve?
Nothing I write could express it.
I can only weep.
My mind is filled with disappointment and sorrow.
Still, I am traveling toward England.
Perhaps there I will find some comfort.
I have been interrupted.
What is that sound?
It is midnight.
The wind is calm.
The sailors on deck are barely moving.
Again I hear something that sounds like a human voice.
But this voice is rougher.
The sound seems to come from the cabin where Frankenstein’s body lies.
I must go and see what is happening.
Good night, my sister.
My God.
What have I just witnessed?
I am still shaking.
I do not even know if I have the strength to write about it.
But my story would be incomplete without this final and terrible event.
I entered the cabin.
Frankenstein’s body was still lying there.
Above him stood a creature I can hardly describe.
He was enormous.
His body was horribly shaped and strangely proportioned.
Long, dirty hair covered his face.
One enormous hand rested beside the body.
Its color and texture looked almost like that of a corpse.
When he heard me approach, he stopped crying out.
He moved quickly toward the window.
I had never seen anything so horrifying.
His face was almost impossible to look at.
I instinctively closed my eyes.
Then I remembered Frankenstein’s dying request.
I was supposed to destroy this creature.
“Stay!” I called.
The monster stopped.
He looked at me with surprise.
Then he turned back toward the body of his creator.
For a moment, he seemed to forget that I was even there.
His entire body was consumed by some overwhelming emotion.
“That is another victim of mine,” he cried.
“My crimes are finally complete.”
“My miserable life has reached its end.”
“Oh, Frankenstein!”
“You were generous and devoted to others.”
“What good is it for me to ask you to forgive me now?”
“I destroyed you by destroying everyone you loved.”
“He is cold.”
“He cannot answer me.”
His voice broke.
At first, I felt pity for him.
I remembered Frankenstein’s warning that the creature was extremely persuasive.
But when I looked again at my dead friend, anger returned.
“You monster,” I said.
“It is convenient for you to come here and cry over the destruction you caused.”
“You are like someone who sets an entire city on fire, then sits among the ruins and cries because everything has been destroyed.”
“You are a hypocrite.”
“If Frankenstein were still alive, you would still be hunting him.”
“You do not feel pity.”
“You are only grieving because your victim is no longer within your reach.”
“No,” the creature said.
“That is not true.”
“But I understand why you think that.”
“I am not looking for your sympathy.”
“When I first wanted sympathy, I wanted something very different.”
“I wanted love.”
“I wanted friendship.”
“I wanted to be accepted for the good qualities I knew I possessed.”
“But now virtue means nothing to me.”
“Happiness has become hatred.”
“Love has become despair.”
“What could I possibly ask you to understand?”
“I have accepted that I must suffer alone.”
“And when I die, I do not care if people remember me with hatred and disgust.”
“Once, I dreamed of becoming good.”
“I dreamed of honor.”
“I dreamed of being loved despite my appearance.”
“I believed that someone might see the good inside me.”
“But crime has turned me into something worse than any animal.”
“No human being has committed crimes like mine.”
“When I remember what I have done, I can hardly believe I was once the same creature whose mind was filled with beautiful ideas of goodness.”
“But that is what happened.”
“I became like a fallen angel who turned into a devil.”
“And even the devil has companions.”
“I have none.”
“You call Frankenstein your friend, so you know something about my crimes and his suffering.”
“But he could never tell you everything.”
“He could not describe all the months and years of misery that I endured.”
“I destroyed his hopes.”
“But I never gained what I wanted.”
“I still wanted love.”
“I still wanted companionship.”
“And I was still rejected.”
“Was that not also an injustice?”
“Why am I the only one you condemn?”
“Why do you not hate Felix?”
“He drove someone away simply because of his appearance.”
“Why do you not condemn the man who tried to attack the person who had saved his child?”
“You call these people good and innocent.”
“And I am treated as something less than human.”
“I was rejected, beaten, kicked, and hated.”
“Even now, remembering it makes my blood burn.”
“But yes,” he continued, “I am a monster.”
“I murdered innocent people.”
“I killed helpless victims while they slept.”
“I killed a man who had never harmed me.”
“I destroyed my creator’s life.”
“I followed him until I finally destroyed him.”
“And now he lies here, cold and dead.”
“You hate me.”
“But your hatred cannot possibly equal the hatred I feel for myself.”
“I look at these hands—the hands that committed those murders.”
“I think about the heart that imagined them.”
“And I long for the day when I will no longer have to look at these hands or live with these memories.”
“Do not fear that I will hurt anyone else.”
“My work is finished.”
“Your death is not necessary.”
“No one else’s death is necessary.”
“Only mine.”
“I will leave your ship on the same ice raft that brought me here.”
“I will travel to the northernmost part of the world.”
“There I will build a funeral fire and burn this miserable body.”
“I do not want anyone to find my remains and use them to create another creature like me.”
“I will die.”
“Then I will no longer feel this pain.”
“My creator is dead.”
“And when I am gone, the memory of both of us will soon disappear.”
“I will never see the sun again.”
“I will never see the stars.”
“I will never feel the wind on my face.”
“All light, feeling, and sensation will disappear.”
“And somehow, I believe I will finally find peace in that.”
“When I first discovered the world, everything was beautiful to me.”
“I felt the warmth of summer.”
“I heard the leaves moving in the wind.”
“I heard birds singing.”
“Back then, I would have been terrified of death.”
“Now death is the only thing that comforts me.”
“I have filled my life with crimes.”
“I am consumed by remorse.”
“Where else could I possibly find peace except in death?”
He looked once more at Frankenstein.
“Farewell.”
“You are the last human being these eyes will ever see.”
“Farewell, Frankenstein.”
“If you were still alive and still wanted revenge, perhaps it would have been better for you to take revenge on me while I lived.”
“But you did not want revenge merely for yourself.”
“You wanted me destroyed so that I could not make anyone else suffer.”
“If some part of you still thinks and feels, then you would not want a worse revenge than the one I have already given myself.”
“You were destroyed by what happened.”
“But my suffering was even greater.”
“Because remorse is a wound that never stops hurting.”
“Only death can finally close it.”
He paused.
Then his voice became strangely calm.
“But soon I will die.”
“Soon all this pain will end.”
“These terrible feelings will disappear.”
“I will build my funeral fire and step into the flames.”
“I will face the fire without fear.”
“My ashes will be carried away by the wind and scattered across the sea.”
“Perhaps my spirit will finally sleep.”
“And if I continue to think after death, I will no longer think as I do now.”
“Farewell.”
With those words, the creature climbed through the cabin window and jumped onto the ice raft beside the ship.
The waves slowly carried him away.
Soon the darkness swallowed him.
And then he was gone.