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"My creature, born out of a single thought and the labor of my hands, how formidable"
The thought felt so big in Victor's head, he didn't realized the moment his brain made the decision of vocalizing it. The creature stayed on the table he had arranged, pale, unmoving; the man wondered if calling it creature was accurate anymore, its core and exterior was human, bone and flesh and blood soon to be flowing inside him, the intrinsic perfect organic machine that he had so valiantly conquered , and now life.
"Alive?" Was it alive? not yet, but was it a life? who could answer? not him, and yet that was his planned future; medicine, science, knowledge far beyond his own imagination, the human body contained universes in every cell, and he wanted to master it all.
His heart was racing, but his feet couldn't move. His eyes, fixed on the skin of its torso and its changing tint, small patches of purples and greens and yellows, so much colour was possible in the human skin.
"you're going to be surprised to know which organ is the greenest inside you" his smile imperceptible to the silent world outside. Victor heard the wind ruffling the trees, how the dry leaves shook and feel, its sound like a gentle rain, perhaps it started raining, he couldn't tell.
"I wonder what else is going to surprise you, will your brain still remember emotions? Will it be still in shock by the last thing you saw, the last thing it felt. Are your limbs going to remember how to move, how the cold wind felt at the back of your neck, a lover's kiss perhaps might still be in there, somewhere, or will your heart be too cold and still to remember how much love it could feel."
He knew he was not thinking as a scientist, what does love have to do with the nature of life. In a moment of clarity, where the dream that clung his bones lifted for the first time in a week, his mind finally arrived at an epiphany.
"I am not yet a doctor" painful feeling, a blow directly to his knowledge inflated ego. The thought did not bring happiness, but it lifted something. He was not yet a doctor, he had no obligation to think as a scientist yet, he could be human, he could act as human first.
Bring a being into life, what what would that life look like, he would have to feed this creature, bathe it, teach him, or explain him how his life had to start anew. He would have to explain to each limb how they'll need to learn to work with each other, their memories are going to be harder to assort.
He couldn't stop but think about Elizabeth, he remembered her stories of hunger, of cold and pain, of little love, and resentment. What if he didn't want it, it is a human, wasn't it? is it going to be? How can you categorize a human, are his still cold hands not human enough, he's a body right now, a full body build from human flesh. Is humanity stored in the brain? is it in the mind? Are you your thoughts? is he going to be whole? what are his thoughts going to bring?
"creature, why have you planted those kind of thoughts into my mind? what are you trying to say?"
He took a step back, his tense muscles ache, the closest chair felt so far away. He collapsed on the floor, back to the wall, his eyes still on his masterpiece spread on table.
"you are going to resent me, I feel it in my bones, an understandable response. I'm not asking you if you want to live again, I not even sure I know how you died, not whole of you. There was a boy in my class months ago, he had the most beautiful hand writing. His mother was a writer, how scandalous I know, in her old age she still had things to say so he helped her write her words, she reprehended his calligraphy so much he had to learn to do a better job. He was also a great cook, that came naturally, his brain new what the food needed to be-" his hands moved up and down in a simple gesture, trying to find the correct wording. "life changing. So much knowledge stored in those hands. Consumption took him within a month"
His eyes moved to his own hands, palms up, palms down, how much work he had done, yet they still remember a certain touch. He lifted them up to his stomach and interlaced his fingers with each other, he took a deep breath, exhaled loudly, a beat, and let them go.
His mind foggy after so many thoughts. Now the sounds of the storm felt closer, his eyes darted to the window the moment a flash of light illuminated the room for a fraction of a second. He stood up, and the sound that came after shook something inside him, it echoed in his spine, in his skull, in his soul. He turned, and took three decisive steps towards the table. Another flash of light, followed by the sound of rain. Another deep breath and exhale.
"No, I'm not going to bring you to this world" a rumble from afar followed his word, and he took a step back, closed the window and shut the door.