“I am beyond the help of medical science,” I said. “Or anyone’s help. Herr Klemmen, I do not wish to cause you any further sadness, and greatly regret the amount that my intrusion has caused, but I need to ask you a question that could further distress you.”
“Do not regret anything, my son. Your words have the air of truth, and your visit has lifted a great weight from my heart, for now I can mourn Friedrich instead of despising him. What is it that you wish to know?”
“How long ago did this terrible crime occur?” I asked.
Herr Klemmen’s jaw muscles tightened as he steeled himself to answer me. “We are two months short of the one year anniversary,” he said.
Ten months! That was all it was? Herr Klemmen looked as if he had aged a decade, if not more, but it had only been ten months! I understood it. He never had children and had grown to think of his niece, Johanna, as his own child. I had also felt the warmth of fatherly love from him, so the circumstances must have been doubly tragic for him as Herr Klemmen had to suffer both grief and hatred together, and it took its toll. As I looked at Herr Klemmen’s eyes brimming with tears, I felt the same tenderness and aching of love toward him as if he had been my true father, and I knew then that I had a soul. I don’t know how that could have come to be, but I knew it was true, just as I knew that my memories of Johanna and my life as Friedrich Hoffmann were real, and not imaginary.
I hesitated before asking where Johanna was buried, Ingolstadt or Leipzig.
Gravely, his face aging even more, Herr Klemmen said, “My niece is now with her father and mother.”
My voice barely came out as an animal growl as I said to Herr Klemmen, “You have my promise, sir. The man responsible for these terrible crimes will be made to suffer. Johanna Klemmen and Friedrich Hoffmann will be allowed to rest in peace.”
I stole into the night then.
CHAPTER
8
I waited until dark before climbing over the twenty-foot wall that circled the city of Ingolstadt. The agility and strength within my new body was more that of a wild beast than a man, my limbs showing themselves to be sinewy and powerful, and I was easily able to leap so that I could pull myself over the wall and drop to the ground below. Once I was on the other side, I made my way down the banks of the Danube river and drank until I quenched the thirst that the earlier bottle of wine had merely tickled. Then I slipped into the woods, and using the stars to navigate, headed north toward Leipzig.
During my lifetime as Friedrich Hoffmann I had traveled to a few cities and villages outside of Ingolstadt, but never farther than Munich, and never outside of my homeland of Bavaria. Leipzig was over two hundred miles away, and in Saxony, which was unknown territory to me, but I had a burning need to visit my Johanna’s grave. There was no longer any doubt that the memories I possessed as Friedrich Hoffmann were real, as was the compassion and love that I had felt for my betrothed, and the terrible grief that now weighed so heavily on me.
I thought about what Herr Klemmen had told me. That ten months had elapsed since Johanna’s murder. From my own tally, I was held captive within Frankenstein’s laboratory for almost seven months. Although it seemed as if it had only been seconds, three months had actually passed from my dying on the executioner’s wheel to waking up in Frankenstein’s company. For three months I had clearly been dead, and yet my soul and memories survived.
I had no idea where Frankenstein had run off to. No clues were left behind in his living quarters, and I could not recall him ever mentioning a destination that would be safe for him in the event he needed to flee. I did not know how I was going to find him, only that I would. Justice required it. But first I needed to travel to Leipzig so that I could leave flowers by Johanna’s grave and say my prayers. Later, after I had paid the proper respects, providence would help me track down Frankenstein wherever he might be hiding.
As I made my way through the woods, I felt my senses keener than I could ever recall. I picked up smells in the woods that I never knew existed before, and I heard the distinctive cry of night owls far off in the distance, as well as small animals rustling in the underbrush. My vision changed the most dramatically. It was more that of a nocturnal beast than a man, and instead of stumbling in the dark I had little trouble making out my path. I should have been terrified with all the dangers that lurked around me, but instead I felt exhilarated. After all those months housed within the oppressive evil of Frankenstein’s lair, the fresh air of the woods was a gentle balm to my spirits. For a time I even forgot about the hideousness of my present form, and imagined myself once more as I had been. But before too long those pleasant delusions vanished and my exhilaration proved short-lived.
I moved swiftly through the woods. Just as my agility and strength had grown greater than that of any man, so did my speed, and I ran more like the red deer that I had once hunted in my youth than I ever could have as Friedrich Hoffmann. After many hours of this I began to grow weary and for the first time since I had been brought back to life I desired sleep. I found a small cave to rest in, and after lying down I closed my eyes and silently said a short prayer.
I dreamed, but it was not of Johanna. Instead my dreams were of a troubling and dark nature, as if I were being urged to turn away from Leipzig to instead head southwards. Before waking, an ominous gray castle appeared as if it were there to beckon me. The castle was of a ruined state and a foulness hung about it, the sight of it causing a cold chill to run through my heart. A great sense of relief overcame me when I woke and found myself back in the cave, and realized that that castle and the evil it represented were only phantoms.
I must have slept for only several hours, for it was not yet dawn when I awoke. The stars were gone, and without the sun rising to guide me, I had no method to determine which direction was north, but I chose to let my heart lead me to Johanna’s grave. I had only traveled a short distance when I spotted the wolves. There were four of them facing me, all with their blue unmoving eyes staring intently at me, their gray and brownish fur matted, their backs hunched in a feral manner. They were silent as they began to move toward me, and as they broke into an all-out run, a primal fear swallowed me up and I turned to flee.
At first their snarls filled my consciousness and I felt their hot breath as they snapped at my ankles, but before too long I was outrunning them! That relief was short-lived as I realized I had been chased toward one of their waiting companions. This wolf was larger than the others. It stood crouched, its fangs glistening as it snarled. And then it was airborne as it sprung at me to rip out my throat. What happened next surprised me as much as it did this beast. I caught it in midair, one hand around the wolf’s neck, the other gripping it by its hindquarters. Over a hundred pounds of beastly ferocity, and I held the animal suspended in midair, with the impact budging me only a step. The animal tried to little avail to squirm out of my grasp. I snapped its back as if it were little more than a dry tree branch and tossed its body onto the ground. For the first time I truly understood the strength that I possessed.
The other wolves had caught up to me and were circling me warily, with certainly some confusion as to why their time-honored hunting maneuver had failed to work. But they were hungry and even given my greater size, they mistook me for a man, which was a type of creature that they could normally overpower. I was no longer afraid. Instead I felt only regret that I was going to have to kill these beasts. As they circled me they edged closer, and two of them sprang at me at the same moment. I batted one of them away and caught the other by the scruff of its neck and threw it with enough force at one of the still circling wolves that I killed both of them. The last remaining wolf was not to be deterred. With all the beastly fury that it could muster, it charged at me and suffered the same cruel fate as its companions.
As I looked at their broken bodies lying on the ground, I felt only sympathy toward these animals. The wolf that I had batted away had landed against an oak tree and lay whimpering on the ground. A closer examination showed that its hindquarters were broken and that it had no chance for survival. Trying my best to soothe the animal during its last moments, I ended its suffering with a quick twist of its neck.
With a heavy heart I left the area and continued onwards, trusting my instincts to lead me north. An hour later when the sun began to rise, I was relieved to find that I was on the right path.
