Victor - A Short Story

III.

The creature didn't seem to recognize my presence, even after a flurry of curses that went its way upon my face making impact on a tree branch (even in the state of numbness I was in, a mouthful of tree can be considerably alarming). It was then that I began observing my surroundings; I had been slightly occupied prior– with the floating, numbness, stink, and encountering a monster and all.

I surmised I had encountered the creature at the beginning of a hiking trail, because since then the creature went through some patches of foliage (and tree branches), always following the same sandy, foot-trodden path. It was only when the creature encountered a person did I know I'd been here before.

My little brother, William. With a baby a face as his baby-blue eyes, navy overalls and a patch of brown-blonde ramen-noodle hair, he skipped soundly down the sandy path...and his eyes were trained– not on me, but on the monster.

I conceived no horror within William's azure eyes, but something of an impassive expression. There was no hate, nor was there love. I looked down on the two from my abode in the air, my face as impassive as William's. He had never been my favorite sibling, ever-so-whiny and clingy; yet my eyebrows wrinkled to a degree as he halted only three feet away from the monster. His coral lips opened, revealing bunny-teeth as he began speaking.

"That is cat hat."

At least, that's what I assumed William said. To no one's surprise, I couldn't hear, nor could I read lips for my life. I couldn't see the exchange on the creature's part, as his back was exposed to me. But that was more than enough.

I crossed my legs ten meters in the air, propped my elbow on one knee, and cupped my chin in my palm. Little Willy had the same capability for intelligence as I did emotions. I wouldn't have been surprised if I could hear, and he really had said "That is cat hat.".

But– why was it that he wasn't horrified? No running in fear, fainting, or paling? I pouted, but my stomach jerked. Something wasn't right.

William meant we were in Geneva. Geneva meant we were in Switzerland.

Switzerland meant that the creature was in my home country.

*****

I waited. Waited for William to look past his silly, childish imagination and see the monster. To see the creature for what he was: ugly, rotten, and not human. I waited for William's face to contort in horror, to put on the expression I knew all too well; for the tears to trickle in rivers down his face. I waited– not for my...sadistic tendencies, but for William to run, to fetch father, as he had always done.

For once, William failed to do so. It was only until he received a blow from the creature did his expression change. Not to one of horror (I'm afraid that expression was occupied and plastered on my face), but to one of disgust.

It was as if he'd expected it. It was as if he'd met the monster before.

William's blue eyes burned bright with disgust as he voiced two final words and turned his back.

I guessed he'd said: "Follow me," as the creature began to do so soon after. And with a twang, I soon sailed along behind it.

My head pounded with pain, my heart and stomach following its example.

I had no idea what was going on. If I'd died due to the dang Defibrillator and this was the afterlife, I had only one question in mind: Where. Were. My. Velvet. Cushions?

*****

We were indeed in Geneva. I knew for a fact we were, as William and the creature halted at the facade of Frankenstein estate.

The many wide windows stared at me as my father emerged from the gaping mouth of the mansion. His face sagged, tracks of tears led down to the many folds and crevices that filled with tears. A pencil mustache played dead on his upper lip, as animated as the hair on his head was. And again, an impassive expression. And by impassive I mean no blood-curdling screams, or calling for security. For me, that was strange.

The monster's back still faced me, though I doubted it was capable of expression besides the permanent dents of its features.

Father wobbled his lips and opened his mouth, tears trickling into the new-found crevice. And again, an inaudible exchange. William quickly shrunk into the estate as Father persisted his blubbering. I glanced at the creature's back. I don't know what I expected; tears, too?

I rubbed my eyes. Nobody seemed to notice the creature's gross and grotesque features. I clutched my hair, very nearly ripping it out; my legs remained cemented cross-legged as my spine stiffened.

Father's crying escalated, I very nearly expected Noah's ark within the flooding flaps and hills of his face. The creature's back remained motionless and emotionless; I assumed it was the same situation in front. I didn't want to find out. Father seemed to notice its impassiveness, too– his face hardened, face-flaps and wrinkles receding. His jaw gaped as he shouted, and I could have sworn I heard his words:

"At a time like this?!"

It wouldn't be the first time I'd heard him say that.