When I returned, I found a letter from my father waiting for me.
“My dear Victor,
“I imagine you have been waiting impatiently for news about when you can return home. At first, I thought I would write only a few lines and tell you the date when I expected you.
“But I could not bring myself to do that. It would be cruel to let you come home expecting a happy reunion, only to find our family drowning in grief.
“How can I tell you what has happened? You have been away for so long, but I cannot believe that you have forgotten the happiness and sorrow of those who love you.
“I wish I could somehow prepare you for what you are about to read, but I know that is impossible. Even now, I imagine your eyes racing across these lines, searching for the terrible words.
“William is dead.
“That sweet little boy, whose smile could brighten my heart, whose gentle nature made everyone love him—he has been murdered.
“I will not try to comfort you with empty words. I will simply tell you what happened.
“Last Thursday, May 7th, I went for a walk in Plainpalais with Elizabeth, your niece, and your two brothers. The evening was warm and peaceful, so we stayed out longer than usual.
“By the time we decided to return home, it was already getting dark. We then realized that William and Ernest, who had gone ahead of us, were nowhere to be seen.
“We sat down and waited for them.
“After a while, Ernest came back alone.
“‘Have you seen William?’ he asked.
“We told him we had not.
“‘I was playing with him,’ Ernest explained. ‘He ran away and hid somewhere. I searched for him for a long time, but I couldn’t find him. I waited for him to come back, but he never did.’
“His words immediately worried us.
“We searched for William until it was completely dark. Elizabeth finally suggested that perhaps he had already returned home.
“But when we got there, he was not there.
“I could not rest. The thought of my little boy wandering alone through the cold night terrified me. So we went back out with torches and searched again.
“Elizabeth was suffering terribly too.
“Then, around five in the morning, I found him.
“Only hours earlier, I had seen my beautiful boy running around full of life and health. Now he was lying motionless on the grass, his body cold and pale.
“There were marks around his neck. The murderer had strangled him.
“We carried him home.
“My face must have revealed what had happened, because Elizabeth immediately realized that something terrible was wrong.
“She insisted on seeing William.
“At first I tried to stop her.
“‘Please, Elizabeth, don’t,’ I begged.
“But she would not listen.
“She entered the room and hurried to William’s body. The moment she saw the marks on his neck, she clasped her hands and cried:
“‘Oh God! I have killed my darling child!’
“She collapsed.
“It took us a long time to bring her back to consciousness. When she finally recovered, she could do nothing but cry.
“She then told me something that has made her grief even worse.
“That evening, William had begged her to let him wear a valuable miniature portrait of your mother that she owned.
“The miniature is now missing.
“She believes that someone murdered William because of that picture.
“We have not yet found the murderer, although everyone is doing everything possible to discover who he is. But even if we find him, nothing can bring my beloved William back.
“Come home, Victor.
“You are the one person who may be able to comfort Elizabeth. She cries constantly and blames herself for William’s death. Hearing her say such things breaks my heart.
“We are all suffering. Perhaps that is even more reason for you to return and help us through this terrible time.
“Your mother…”
My father’s words seemed to break down at that point.
“Thank God she did not live to see the cruel death of her youngest child.
“Come home, Victor. But do not return filled with hatred or thoughts of revenge. Come with a peaceful heart. Come with kindness for the people who love you.
“Our family is grieving, and we need your love more than anything.
“Your loving and sorrowful father,
“Alphonse Frankenstein.
“Geneva, May 12th.”
I had read the letter while Henry Clerval watched my face.
At first, I had been overjoyed to receive news from home. But as I read, my happiness disappeared completely.
I threw the letter onto the table and covered my face with my hands.
Henry rushed toward me.
“My dear Frankenstein, why are you crying like this? What has happened?”
I could not answer.
Instead, I pointed toward the letter.
“Read it.”
Henry picked it up.
As he read, tears filled his eyes too.
“I don’t know what to say,” he whispered. “There is nothing I can say that will make this better. What are you going to do?”
“I am going to Geneva immediately.”
I stood up.
“Come with me, Henry. We need to arrange the horses.”
As we walked, Henry tried to comfort me, but there was little he could say.
“Poor William,” he said quietly. “That beautiful little boy. He is with his mother now.
“Anyone who had ever seen him happy and full of life would have loved him.
“To die like this… to feel a murderer’s hands around his neck… How could anyone destroy such innocent happiness?
“But there is one small comfort. William is no longer suffering. His pain is over.
“He lies beneath the earth now, where nothing can hurt him.
“We are the ones who must continue living with the pain.”
His words stayed in my mind.
But at that moment, I could think of nothing except getting home.
As soon as the horses arrived, I climbed into the carriage and said goodbye to Henry.
The journey was miserable.
At first I wanted to travel as quickly as possible. I desperately wanted to see my family and share their grief.
But as I came closer to Geneva, I began to slow down.
A thousand thoughts rushed through my mind.
I had not seen my hometown for almost six years.
How much could have changed during that time?
One terrible change had already happened. William was dead.
But there must have been countless smaller changes too—changes that had happened slowly and quietly, yet might have changed everything.
The closer I came, the more frightened I became.
I was afraid of what I would find at home, even though I could not explain exactly what I feared.
I stopped in Lausanne and remained there for two days.
I sat beside the lake and stared at the peaceful water.
Everything around me was calm.
The mountains were covered with snow, just as I remembered them.
Slowly, that beautiful scene began to calm my mind.
At last, I continued toward Geneva.
The road followed the lake, which became narrower as I approached my hometown.
The dark slopes of the Jura Mountains became clearer, and the bright peak of Mont Blanc rose above them.
I began to cry.
“My dear mountains,” I whispered. “My beautiful lake. Do you welcome me home?
“The mountains are clear. The sky and water are peaceful.
“Does this mean that peace is waiting for me?
“Or are you simply mocking my misery?”
For a little while, I allowed myself to enjoy the sight of my homeland.
Those memories were painful, but they were also among the happiest moments I had known since leaving home.
How could anyone who was not born there understand what it meant to see those mountains, those streams, and that beautiful lake again?
But as I drew closer to Geneva, my fear returned.
Night fell.
The mountains became dark shapes in the distance.
Everything around me seemed filled with sorrow.
I had a terrible feeling that I was destined to become the most miserable man alive.
And I was right.
In fact, I had no idea how much worse my suffering would become.
By the time I reached the outskirts of Geneva, it was completely dark.
The city gates were already closed, so I had to spend the night in Secheron, a small village about half a mile from the city.
The sky was clear, but I could not sleep.
I decided to visit the place where William had been murdered.
Since I could not enter Geneva, I took a boat across the lake and headed toward Plainpalais.
As I crossed the water, lightning flashed around the peak of Mont Blanc.
The sight was strangely beautiful.
But the storm was moving closer.
When I reached the shore, I climbed a small hill to watch it.
The clouds gathered quickly.
Large drops of rain began to fall.
Within minutes, the storm became violent.
I got up and continued walking.
Thunder exploded above me.
The sound echoed from the mountains around the lake.
Lightning flashed so brightly that the entire lake seemed to become a sheet of fire.
Then everything disappeared into darkness again.
Storms were breaking out in different parts of the sky.
One raged over the northern part of the lake.
Another flickered faintly over the Jura Mountains.
Farther away, the mountain called Môle appeared and disappeared behind the clouds.
I stood there watching the storm.
It was terrifying, but there was something magnificent about it too.
The power of nature lifted my spirits.
I raised my hands toward the sky.
“William, my dear angel!” I cried. “This is your funeral. This is the song being played for you.”
Then I saw something moving in the darkness.
A figure stepped out from behind a group of trees.
I froze.
I stared at it.
Then lightning flashed.
For one brief moment, the figure was completely visible.
It was enormous.
Its body was horribly deformed.
Its appearance was so unnatural and terrifying that I knew immediately who it was.
The creature I had created.
The being to whom I had given life.
My blood ran cold.
“What is he doing here?”
Then another thought struck me.
“Could he be William’s murderer?”
The moment the idea entered my mind, I knew it was true.
My teeth began to chatter.
I had to hold onto a tree to keep myself from falling.
The creature moved quickly past me and disappeared into the darkness.
No ordinary human being could have killed a child as innocent and beautiful as William.
It had to be him.
I could not doubt it.
I thought about chasing him.
But another flash of lightning revealed him again.
He was climbing the almost vertical rocks of Mont Salêve with incredible speed.
No ordinary man could have done such a thing.
Within moments, he reached the summit and disappeared.
I stood there in silence.
The thunder eventually stopped.
The rain continued to fall.
Darkness surrounded me.
My mind returned to everything I had tried so hard to forget.
The experiments.
The creation.
The terrible night when I gave life to the creature.
The moment I saw him standing beside my bed.
His escape.
Almost two years had passed since I had created him.
And now I had to face the truth.
Was William his first victim?
I had released a monster into the world.
A creature with the strength and will to cause terrible suffering.
And now he had murdered my brother.
I spent the rest of the night outside in the rain.
I was cold and completely soaked, but I hardly noticed.
My mind was filled with horrible thoughts.
I kept imagining the creature I had brought into the world.
He was like my own evil spirit, released from the grave and sent out to destroy everything I loved.
At dawn, I finally began walking toward Geneva.
The gates were open.
I hurried to my father’s house.
My first thought was to tell everyone what I had seen and have the creature hunted down immediately.
But then I stopped.
How could I possibly explain it?
I would have to tell them that I had created a living being.
I would have to tell them that this creature had appeared before me in the middle of the night and then climbed the cliffs of Mont Salêve.
Who would believe such a story?
I remembered the terrible illness I had suffered around the time of the creature’s creation.
Anyone who knew about it would probably think I had gone insane.
If someone else had told me such a story, I would have believed he was suffering from delirium.
And even if my family believed me, how could they possibly catch the creature?
He could climb mountains that no ordinary person could even approach.
There was no point.
So I decided to remain silent.
It was around five in the morning when I entered my father’s house.
I told the servants not to wake anyone.
Then I went into the library and waited for the family to rise.
Six years had passed since I had last stood there.
Six years that seemed like a dream, except for the terrible memory that had changed everything.
I was standing in the same room where I had last embraced my father before leaving for Ingolstadt.
My father was still alive.
That thought alone brought me comfort.
I looked at the portrait of my mother above the fireplace.
The painting showed her kneeling beside the coffin of her dead father, overcome with grief.
She looked pale and sorrowful, but there was still dignity and beauty in her face.
Below the painting was a small portrait of William.
The moment I saw it, tears filled my eyes.
Then Ernest entered the room.
He had heard that I had arrived and hurried to welcome me.
“Victor! My dear brother!”
He embraced me.
“Welcome home. I only wish you had come three months ago. If you had, you would have found all of us happy.
“Now you have come home to share our grief.
“But perhaps your presence will give Father some strength. He seems to be collapsing under the weight of what has happened.
“And perhaps you can convince poor Elizabeth to stop blaming herself.
“William was our darling. He was the pride of our family.”
Tears rolled down Ernest’s face.
Seeing his grief made my own suffering even worse.
Until that moment, I had only imagined how terrible my homecoming would be.
Now I was seeing the reality.
I tried to comfort Ernest.
“How is Father?”
“He is devastated,” Ernest replied.
“And Elizabeth?”
Ernest hesitated.
“She needs comfort more than anyone.
“She believes she is responsible for William’s death. She keeps blaming herself, and it is destroying her.
“But now that the murderer has been discovered—”
I stared at him.
“The murderer has been discovered?”
“Yes.”
“How is that possible?”
I could hardly control myself.
“Who could possibly have caught him? I saw him last night. He was still free.
“You might as well try to catch the wind or stop a mountain stream with your hands.”
Ernest looked at me in confusion.
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.
“But the discovery we have made has only made our suffering worse.
“At first, none of us could believe it.
“Even now, Elizabeth refuses to believe it.
“How could anyone believe that Justine Moritz, who has always been kind and loving toward our family, could suddenly commit such a terrible crime?”
“Justine Moritz?”
My heart sank.
“Poor Justine. She is the one they are accusing?
“She is innocent. Everyone knows that.
“Surely no one really believes she killed William?”
“No one did at first,” Ernest said.
“But then several things were discovered.
“They have made people almost certain of her guilt.
“And her behavior has also made things worse. She has been so nervous and confused that people think she must be hiding something.
“She will be put on trial today.
“You will hear everything then.”
Ernest explained what had happened.
The morning William’s body was discovered, Justine had suddenly become ill.
She was so sick that she had remained in bed for several days.
During that time, one of the servants examined the clothes she had worn on the night William died.
The servant found something in one of her pockets.
It was the miniature portrait of my mother.
The same portrait Elizabeth had said was missing.
The servant immediately showed it to another servant.
Without telling anyone in the family, they went to a magistrate and reported what they had found.
Justine was arrested.
When she was questioned about the miniature, she became extremely confused and nervous.
That behavior made everyone even more suspicious.
Ernest finished his story.
I shook my head.
“You are all wrong.
“I know who killed William.
“Justine is innocent.”
At that moment, my father entered the room.
The grief on his face was impossible to hide, although he tried to greet me warmly.
After we embraced, Ernest immediately spoke.
“Father, Victor says he knows who murdered William.”
My father looked at me.
“So do we, unfortunately,” he said sadly.
“I almost wish we had never discovered the truth.
“It is terrible to learn that someone we trusted could be capable of such cruelty and ingratitude.”
“Father, you are mistaken,” I said.
“Justine is innocent.”
My father sighed.
“If she is innocent, then God forbid she should suffer for a crime she did not commit.
“She will be tried today.
“I sincerely hope the court will find her innocent.”
His words calmed me.
I was absolutely certain that Justine had not killed William.
In fact, I knew that no human being was responsible.
There was no way ordinary evidence could prove otherwise.
I could never tell them the truth.
If I told them about the creature I had created, everyone would think I was insane.
Who would believe that a man could create a living being and then see that being walking freely through the mountains?
Only I knew the truth.
I was the creator.
And the creature was the living proof of my terrible ambition and reckless ignorance.
Soon Elizabeth joined us.
She had changed greatly since I had last seen her.
She was no longer the innocent girl I remembered.
She had grown into a beautiful young woman, with the same warmth and energy as before, but now there was greater intelligence and sensitivity in her expression.
She came toward me and embraced me.
“Victor, your return gives me hope,” she said.
“Perhaps you can find some way to prove that poor Justine is innocent.
“If they can condemn her for something she did not do, then who among us is safe?
“I know she is innocent just as surely as I know I am innocent.
“We have already lost William.
“Now this poor girl, whom I love dearly, may be taken away from us too.
“If she is condemned, I don’t think I will ever be happy again.
“But she won’t be condemned.
“I know she won’t.
“And when she is set free, perhaps I can finally find some happiness again, even after losing my dear little William.”
“She is innocent, Elizabeth,” I said firmly.
“And I will make sure the truth comes out.
“Don’t be afraid.
“She will be acquitted.”
Elizabeth looked at me gratefully.
“How kind you are, Victor.
“Everyone else seems to believe she is guilty.
“That made me miserable because I knew it couldn’t be true.
“Seeing everyone turn against her made me feel completely hopeless.”
She began to cry.
My father gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
“My dear Elizabeth, dry your tears.
“If Justine is truly innocent, then trust our laws.
“I will personally do everything I can to make sure she receives a fair trial.”