Chapter Text
The floor was cold and wet. He could feel a swealtering heat coming from above. He felt the smoke reach his lungs long before he saw the fire. He was in the basement of the tower, the very one he had burned down. There was no creature this time, just himself, unable to move. He was chained to that damned slab. The same one he had chained his creation to.
The smoke made it nearly impossible to breathe or see. But he didnt need to see to know that the fire was upon him. He felt its heat rise up, licking up his legs and body. He tried to scream, but no sound came. No one was here, and no one would save him. The only thing there was the face of his dark angel, mocking him.
Victor wakes in a cold sweat, heart pumping. He can still feel the phantom smoke permeating his lungs. A cough drags its way out of his throat. His sweat-damp skin prickles in the cold air of an early winter morning. He draws his blankets tighter around his body, trying to rid himself of the imposing cold. He sinks further into the mattress, debating whether to call it an early morning or crawl back into restless sleep.
The memory of his dream pushes him out of bed. He pulls the covers off himself, revealing the punishment he has been left with. The stump where his right leg used to be. It's only been 6 weeks since the fire and his subsequent amputation. There is still quite a bit of swelling, so he has not been fitted for any prosthetic. Victor grabs the crutch that rests against his bed and slowly stands up. Now that he is standing, he throws on a robe and ties it loosely around his waist.
Victor slowly makes his way to the fireplace, trying to warm his body. He sits in a plush chair nearby, setting the crutch against its back. He settles into the chair and closes his eyes, thinking over the past weeks. Dear Willian and sweet Elizabeth had pushed their wedding back a few months to care for Victor. He wished he could have told them that there was no need to do such a thing, but he had been dosed with laudanum. Only this week has the pain been manageable without it.
Victor no longer needs someone present with him at all times. No longer has the sorrowful eyes of William or the scornful look of Elizabeth at his bedside.
He opens his eyes, looking into the fire. It makes him nervous, like his nerve endings are on fire. He takes his eyes away and looks about his room. Just then, something catches his eye. He can see something blazing red on his balcony. What could be such a color in the midst of winter? Was it a bird?
Using the chair as leverage, Victor stands up and grabs the crutch once more. As he gets closer to the large glass doors, he notices that it is not a bird but an autumn leaf. He peered through the doors, looking for what might be the cause of the leaf.
How could there be such a leaf here?
Victor drew the robe closer to himself and balanced himself on the crutch. A small bit of snow blew in as he opened the door. The frigid air went right through him. Trusting that his crutch wouldn't slip, he carefully bent down to grab the blazing autumn leaf. It was strange. Any leaves should be under the snow, decaying and brown. This leaf seems to have been carefully kept.
Victor turned and went back into his room, pulling the door closed behind him. He made his way back to the fireplace to properly investigate the strange leaf. He sat down with a groan, feeling a dull pain in his missing limb. He held the leaf up, spinning it between his fingers by its stem. It was perfectly flat, like it had been pressed between the pages of a book. He wondered if maybe it had belonged to one of the sevents, but swiftly threw the idea away. It wouldn't make sense as to how the leaf ended up on his balcony.
Now that he was rather invested in finding out where the leaf came from, he decided he would keep the leaf until he found its origin. He got up from his seat at the fireplace once more and made his way to his writing desk, placing the leaf in one of the drawers.
Victor looks back at the balcony doors, the sun now shining above the horizon. The day has officially started. Someone will likely bring him his breakfast soon. He sits back down in the plush chair next to the fireplace and thinks about the blazing leaf and its odd origins.