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This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
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Summary
"The art of calling something into existence is not a peaceful endeavor.
Perhaps that’s why mothers cradle their bloody cooing babes after birth, pressing them close to their chests. They press promises of the world into their tender skin as an instinctive bond intertwines them as surely as a single being. Maker and made. Protection and protected.
Mel isn’t given any promises at her creation.
Lightning stolen from the sky and warped through impossible instruments forces life into her with a burning current. It races through her uncontrollably, compelling her heart to give that first fateful pulse.
Life takes Mel in both hands as it drags her forth.
Her creator is silent."
OR
What if Frankenstein had agreed to make the creature a companion? What if Mel was created out of the deepest affection and the lowest of threats?