Adam & Lucifer

“I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel...” - For the Battle of the Fandoms, an adaption of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein -


1. Playing God

The Monster



everything hurts.

eyelids. heavy.

there's noise. buzzing. like  fly's wings. loud. hurts.

voice. there's a voice. it's close.

it says- "did it work? please, god, say it worked."

it keeps talking even though the buzzing stops. suddenly. like when a fly stops moving when you stand on it.

the voice says- "oh god, it didn't work. why didn't it work? everything was perfect."

try to move. fingers first. wiggle. wiggle.

then hands. curl. clench.

and the voice says- "what? has it- did it?"

then eyelids. they're heavy. they open.

bright light. blinding. pain. close eyelids. snap shut, like window shutters.  

i scream loud. wail like baby. bright light hurt.

try to move. can't. something holding my wrists down. my feet down. tight. wiggle. scream.

"wait." voice says. "wait there, adam. give me a moment. Iill get you free."

i make a sad sound. the sound a puppy makes when you step on its tail.

i am free. open eyes and see a man. he is small and thin and pale. brown locks trickle over his ears like water. his eyes are blue. like sky. like sea.

i sit up. joints twist and muscles flex. the room is dark. dingy. cold.

there is a wire in my chest. it winds around me like a python, the metal glinting in the cold light. the end that is buried in my chest in tinged with red, like a red-hot poker after it's taken from the fire. the red bubbles like water.

"remarkable, truly remarkable," voice says. "i thought that it might... but... my god." he laughs, a wild, mad, animal cackle. it rips itself from his throat and bursts into the air like a firework. it is a strange laugh, startling, and it seems to stun even himself. 

i jump at the sound.

the man leans closer, spittle dribbling from his lips in his enthusiasm. he looks wolfish- his eyes wide but his pupils retreating into pinpoints. "can you talk? you can talk, can't you?"

i say nothing. my mouth is dry. by throat feels like a desert. i need to drink. that's what people do, don't they? drink? when they're thirsty?

"halp me." i say. "halp me. halp."

the sound rattles, shakes. it punctures the air like shrapnel, leaving the night cracked like a broken mirror.

the shadows beneath his eyes shudder and tremble and the sleep that he hasn't had drains from the rough gouges in his forehead. he looks tired. hungry.

"it worked!" he screams. he howls in victory, like a wolf. a madman trapped inside his own illusion.

"i did it. it worked. i brought a man back to life."

he shakes me, large hands coiling around my arms like a snake. his presence is astonishing, consuming. it is like smoke, wreathing around me. drowning me. i fall back but he won't let go.

i can't breathe. the air transforms into a solid in my throat. he won't let go.

the monsters loom in. leer closer. I can... almost see them. they're almost there. they come closer.

i scream again. wilder this time. scared.

"don't worry." voice says. "I have you. you're going to be okay, adam. i'm here. that's what you are. you're my adam. my own perfect creation."

i scream louder. he won't let go.

why won't he let go?

the monsters move closer. i am a wounded animal. they are vultures. circling. closing.

"adam." he says. "don't be scared. i am just your maker. i am just your god."

the monsters smile down.

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