Frankenstein Lives Again (The New Adventures of Frankenstein) by Donald F. Glut, Mark D. Maddox Page A
Authors: Donald F. Glut, Mark D. Maddox
Tags: Fiction
Ads: Link
exclaimed, fighting to maintain his own control. “They — nor I —could not help but notice that the boxes have been sent by scientific supply houses… electrical equipment manufacturers.
“But surely, Mayor Krag, your people are not against progress, against scientific advancement.”
“ Nein ! But this is beyond progress, fraulein ! To come to my point, Miss Powell, the villagers fear that your Dr. Winslow may be up to the old tricks of the scientist who lived in this very place some two centuries ago... a scientist who had a mad dream and carried it out. My people still believe in the old legends, still fear the terrible Monster that once roamed this castle’s dark corridors and our town’s streets. Tell me, fraulein , what else can they believe when they see all of those boxes being delivered to Castle Frankenstein…?”
Lynn shuddered, anticipating what Krag was about to say.
“... Except that your Dr. Winslow is but another Victor Frankenstein , who will unleash the Monster upon them once again! For all our sakes, especially yours and the doctor’s, I pray that those suspicions are unfounded!”
Had Lynn been able to find the words to respond, she might have, even though Mayor Krag had already turned on his heel and was hurrying out the door.
CHAPTER VIII:
Traveling Terrors
The long journey back to northern Europe was uneventful but proved to be anything but boring for Dr. Burt Winslow. His time was occupied for much of the trip in thought. He hardly ever left the great wooden box that contained the object of his long and costly quest. Oftentimes he had the feeling that he and the dormant Monster had been companions for so long, in the musty cargo holds of ships and in damp railroad cars, that he would become lonesome if the two of them parted company. A few times he even considered leaving the box alone and enjoying the comforts of a private cabin or compartment, but then always dispelled such notions in favor of constantly knowing the fate of his prize.
With a bit of luck and a lot of money, Winslow managed to charter an old transport plane that condensed much of the time in journeying toward Germany. Before taking off, he had sent a wire to Lynn Powell, telling her his approximate time of arrival in Ingolstadt.
Winslow was thinking more and more of Lynn the closer his trip came to its end. He even found his thoughts drifting to her warm and beautiful image even as he constantly re-read sections of the novel Frankenstein and passages he had copied in his own notebook from The Journal of Victor Frankenstein . Oftentimes Winslow would even set aside his reading or notes, stop jotting down the calculations which would figure into his upcoming experiment, just to fantasize that she was with him.
The world was no longer just an expanse of whiteness.
There were green hills and lush forests now to see.
Winslow smiled, knowing that warmer lands and the most wonderful person he had ever known awaited him.
* * *
A creature had suddenly appeared in the hills near Ingolstadt, looking more like a corpse than a living being. His countenance was that of a dried-up mummy, with parched lips and sinister green eyes that stared from their dark sockets with almost demonic fire. There was something resembling a grin on his face, the few brownish teeth in his mouth showing in the sunlight like misshapen wooden pegs.
His withered, vulturelike face was peering through the bushes, staring intently at the raven-tressed beauty standing in the clearing of the forest, before the glistening pond.
She was slipping out of her peasant’s dress with an appealing rustic grace, and her tanned, youthful nakedness was magnificent in the morning’s sunlight.
The human vulture’s eyes widened, the heart beneath his bony chest increasing in its pace. How long had it been since his clawlike fingers had touched such a flawless female form as this? he wondered. How many years had it been since he had forsaken the pleasures
“But surely, Mayor Krag, your people are not against progress, against scientific advancement.”
“ Nein ! But this is beyond progress, fraulein ! To come to my point, Miss Powell, the villagers fear that your Dr. Winslow may be up to the old tricks of the scientist who lived in this very place some two centuries ago... a scientist who had a mad dream and carried it out. My people still believe in the old legends, still fear the terrible Monster that once roamed this castle’s dark corridors and our town’s streets. Tell me, fraulein , what else can they believe when they see all of those boxes being delivered to Castle Frankenstein…?”
Lynn shuddered, anticipating what Krag was about to say.
“... Except that your Dr. Winslow is but another Victor Frankenstein , who will unleash the Monster upon them once again! For all our sakes, especially yours and the doctor’s, I pray that those suspicions are unfounded!”
Had Lynn been able to find the words to respond, she might have, even though Mayor Krag had already turned on his heel and was hurrying out the door.
CHAPTER VIII:
Traveling Terrors
The long journey back to northern Europe was uneventful but proved to be anything but boring for Dr. Burt Winslow. His time was occupied for much of the trip in thought. He hardly ever left the great wooden box that contained the object of his long and costly quest. Oftentimes he had the feeling that he and the dormant Monster had been companions for so long, in the musty cargo holds of ships and in damp railroad cars, that he would become lonesome if the two of them parted company. A few times he even considered leaving the box alone and enjoying the comforts of a private cabin or compartment, but then always dispelled such notions in favor of constantly knowing the fate of his prize.
With a bit of luck and a lot of money, Winslow managed to charter an old transport plane that condensed much of the time in journeying toward Germany. Before taking off, he had sent a wire to Lynn Powell, telling her his approximate time of arrival in Ingolstadt.
Winslow was thinking more and more of Lynn the closer his trip came to its end. He even found his thoughts drifting to her warm and beautiful image even as he constantly re-read sections of the novel Frankenstein and passages he had copied in his own notebook from The Journal of Victor Frankenstein . Oftentimes Winslow would even set aside his reading or notes, stop jotting down the calculations which would figure into his upcoming experiment, just to fantasize that she was with him.
The world was no longer just an expanse of whiteness.
There were green hills and lush forests now to see.
Winslow smiled, knowing that warmer lands and the most wonderful person he had ever known awaited him.
* * *
A creature had suddenly appeared in the hills near Ingolstadt, looking more like a corpse than a living being. His countenance was that of a dried-up mummy, with parched lips and sinister green eyes that stared from their dark sockets with almost demonic fire. There was something resembling a grin on his face, the few brownish teeth in his mouth showing in the sunlight like misshapen wooden pegs.
His withered, vulturelike face was peering through the bushes, staring intently at the raven-tressed beauty standing in the clearing of the forest, before the glistening pond.
She was slipping out of her peasant’s dress with an appealing rustic grace, and her tanned, youthful nakedness was magnificent in the morning’s sunlight.
The human vulture’s eyes widened, the heart beneath his bony chest increasing in its pace. How long had it been since his clawlike fingers had touched such a flawless female form as this? he wondered. How many years had it been since he had forsaken the pleasures
Similar Books
