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This content contains mature situations, violence,
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Chapter 9
Victoria's Juggernaut
Victoria thinks on her time in India for that is where she learned about the Hindu god of all creation. Jagganath. Upon British integration into India the name was received as more than that of just creation but the great and all powerful mover. A god who could destroy anything. Who could destroy everything. A truly merciless force that would be... unstoppable. The name transitioned in the integration to "Juggernaut". A formidable perilous force.
The wind whips, and the cold lashes at Victoria. She can see a blueprint piecing together all the factors in this gallant stand and they are more than unprepared. The odds are building up against them. It is only a matter of time before the cold will cut through their clothes. Their weapons have a fortitude that will run out. Exhaustion is not far after combing the fields and woods half the day. She feels hopeless taking a chance on a losing gamble.
With the axe in her hands she feels like she is weaponless and it reminds her of how she felt when she was taught how to hunt in Zimbabwe at fourteen. With only a spear she hid among the grass to stalk oblivious antelope, unaware she was being hunted by a Barbary lion.
The folding of the grass under each calm foot step behind her, the quake of his deep rumbles hum like ripples in the ground, the musk from his mane carried.
It was strong within her to act carelessly and at the same time confidently. She spun around to face him, meeting him eye to eye in the walls of the tall grass. Raising her spear perfectly between them. He may get his kill but so would she. If the crushing jaws of a lion were her death then she intended to face it without the anger of a fearful dog or the groveling of a rodent in deaths presence. Afraid but still so terribly oblivious to pain at her young age. She almost could spare a bit of humor to think that death itself would indeed need to see her out with a Barbary lion.
"For I am, the Victoria Frankenstein. The greatest of all animals is needed to bring about my fall."
Tearing through the air the lions massive paw takes her spear leaving her weaponless. She held her calm demeanor, staying strong with confidence in the face of diversity. He growled and roared attempting to make a crack in her strength to then search her over for any weakness. Maybe he saw in her a lioness. Maybe she was not enough to satisfy a meal. Maybe he knew Victoria, not as a beast or human but as an other, and it chose on its own accord to leave her be that day but not without a long pondering look at a rare species. She contemplated being torn muscle from bone piece by piece and knew death was a moment away and then began repeating in her head over and over as she stared into his eyes, "Death follows Frankensteins."
Far from those years now, Victoria can feel the night air biting and hear the lightning's growlecho high above. It is with unquestionable fear that Victoria feels weaponless again, now traveling with a lifetime's knowledge of pain, she is burdened with doubts of victory as she faces a great beast once more.
"Death has followed this Frankenstein and it has finally arrived, to put an end to us once and for all." that is of which the only thing within her thoughts that she has no doubts about.
That and the certainty that there is no heartless cold this creature could suffer too. It will eat the fortitude of any man made weapon. It knows no such boundary of exhaustion. It is the artificial human that prevails where mankind will fail.
From where she stands, Victoria inspects her creature, mapping out its features. Even starting to do so raises her skin. She gives no credit to the ghostly wind that passes through her but instead all merit goes to the fear that rises like a tidal wave. It's the way there are no oil lamps or torches present but the burning light coming from her creature's veins that make the darkness bright. She sees its pale dead flesh is drowned out by its ultraviolet glow and she tries to look past the terror of the worst of shadows and light that she beholds. She can see the stitching on the top of it's head. Through the middle and across "Where the brain was transplanted" she thinks to herself.
Victoria feels a minor wave of confusion because she acknowledges that it's as though the skin never healed. Though it is of the human form displayed the creature's skin is a pale dead of fair yellow and translucent. Immortality that is in a perpetual state of dying and regenerating. Living flesh that looks dead but never rotting or aging.She sees its black lips that are a resemblance of a body lacking warm blood. It is toweringin stature standing upright firmly at eight feet in height with long putrid black hair. With every determined step it is pressing closer.There is an equipped preparedness it carries itself with having shoulders wide but bearing a hideousness that unnerves the eyes. It walks with all the rot of an unloved creation. He is wearing a fisherman's attire, consisting of a long sleeved dark coat, worn down overalls and muddied boots.
It takes it's first steps into the village.
Just like that dreary night eight years ago when the lightning storm was also present and the dark was deep with the creature's glow clawing its way out.Victoria feels she is rescinding within herself confronting the sum of all her fears. It is disheartening for her to see the valor erode and crack in those around her as they feel fear like this for the first time because of the likes of a monster this world has never seen.Involuntarily she remembers the sights of that day eight years ago where she walked through Mill Valley. Where she bared witness to the aftermath of her monsters destruction. The sounds of animals picking apart remnants of flesh echo in her mind still. A preview perhaps, of what's to come, for she has brought the scorn of nature unto this village and the lives of its people.
It's lantern eyes veer toward Knelis. He is dum-struck with his mouth agape. Caught in its snarelike a ship in the fog, drawn to a lighthouse beacon. It explodes into a lunge. Knelis isn't given a moment to decide weather to turn and run now or strike and it is within that moment's hesitation that the monster strikes.That pulsing glowin the monster's veins blur as they swing on Knelis and he is quickly thrown into a nearby houseappearing as though he was weightless. Knelis's body merely bangs against the exterior to then collapse to the ground limp.
"Keep it from going into the village!" Jacop commands, taking the lead in their stand. They come together encircling the monster but keep their distance while occasionally attempting to strike it. "We must put him down!" he screams, "Kill him! Kill him!" Ignaas growls as their pitchforks and axes maneuver wildly in the dark. They stab and slash the monsters clothes, but their efforts to put it down are to no avail. Each blow of their deadly weapons bounce off the monster like it is made of the same metals as the weapons themselves. The task soon becomes tiring for most of them. A cloud climbs upward made from the vapors of their breath in the cold as though it was from a bond-fire without a flame.
Victoria sees everyone's exhaustion and yells, "Our efforts are futile. I will run and retrieve a horse. We can attempt to drag him out of the village!" Jacop responds to her, "Quickly go! Get two if Pepijn can be found there. We need more men!"
Victoria is sprintingthrough the Village. Down the roads and around corners.When she reaches the stables she findsPepijn Inside. Wasting no time she moves frantically void of hesitation in her movement as she prepares a horse for her to take. All the while she is yelling at Pepijn in Dutch explaining for him to follow her with rope and a horse.Victoria makes a lasso of their ropes to which then they mount their horsesand leave the stables together, riding through the Village.
Luarens's muscles burn and have grown fatigued. He jabs with his pitchfork twice winding up to jab again. The monster grabs the handle of the pitchfork, pulling Laurens in. Everyone breaks away as the monster hits Luarens. He is hit with such power and force it lifts him off his feet and he crashes into Geertrudia. Her head hits the ground with a bounce leaving her unconscious.
Kasper hears horses. He turns. Only for a second. Two riders barely visible. Victoria and Pepijn. The galloping is relieving. Reinforcements have arrived. He turns backand the monster's hands grab him. The monster's hands lift him. All yell furiously in protest but it is pointless. The monster folds him in half… and it folds him again. Droppinghis quiet dead body at its feet with a dull thud adding punctuation to the creature's discard of Kasper, effortless and unwarranted of notice as if it were simply dropping a small stone.
Victoria screams like she's tearing her vocal cords, "No!" Pepijn's horse wont go any further as he pulls back on the reigns. Victoria continues forward with vigor and lassos a rope around the monster's neck. She jumps off her horse. Aggressively smacking its hide. The horse cuts through the night as it runs into the fields. Themonster isviolently toppled,pulled off of its feet. But using only its hands it quickly tears the rope off of its neck. It stands as lightning strikes.
"Impossible!" Jacop exclaims angered. Pepijn dismounts from his horse on the other side of the well. He tosses a bundle of ropes over to Jacop before throwing his rope in a lasso to ensnare the creature's arm. Jacop quickly throws his rope to lasso its neck.
Temperatures only get lower and the dry air makes Jacop and Pepijn's hands drier. They pull on the ropes with what might they still have in their bodies. It makes the skin beside their fingernails crack and bleed. Ignaas joins Pepijn. Grabbing hold of the rope he helps him pull. But he becomes dismal with the awareness that three men are no match against this creature.
"Luarens! Run!" Ignaas screams, "Find Albertus! We need him! Check the mill! Hurry!"
Luarens's legs start running before he can push himself up off the ground kicking dirt about as he goes. Pepijn is yelling in Dutch non-stop curses and questions and Ignaas is doing his best to reply while struggling to keep the rope anchored. While struggling, they see the light it emits is as hostile a light as the lighting that cracks. With each thunderous boom the men shiver. It is an unforeseeable victory for how must they prevail with their strength fading and the monster's is insurmountable.
An axe rests on the ground. Victoria grips the handle and wields it once more. Then, without preparing a firm grip the monster grabs the rope Pepijn and Ignaas tug at. It pulls on the rope. Both Pepijn and Ignaas are pulled hard and fast. Their feet leave the ground as their bodies are launched toward the monster.
In one motion the creature raises it's arms and then slams down on Pepijn mid-air. His inertia was changed twice so fast that there is no time to catch himself. A motionless Pepijn lays like a crumpled mound. Themonster's fishing boot kicksPepijn in the ribs with a force that heaves him at the mouthof the well. Caught under the wells roof, Pepijn slips inside and disappearsdown into its depths.
After Ignaas hits the ground Jacop stammers over with a frustrated clumsinessto help him come to his feet. Ignaas could see the monster there, behind Jacop rising to its full stature. Ignaas, feeling exhausted, reasons with himself that there was never going to be an opportunity where he was faster, or stronger than this creature. It was never far behind and it was frightening to feel that the greatest desideratum of the monster is to have utter decimation pass through its hands.
The men see with a hopelessness the speed in which it runs toward them. Their guts liquefy and their eyes buldge as the monster's terror stampedes at them.
A lasso grips the monster's ankle. Victoria sends Pepijn's horse running off with the rope tied to its saddle.Again the monster's feet are pulled out from underneath it. It's body is dragged violently. As the monster passes Victoria she raises her axe above her head and with the same fury as lightning she swings down. Her axe hits the side of its face barely causing injury.
Geertrudia opens her eyes to see Victoria cut at the monster as it is dragged away. Jacopgrabs Geertrudia by her arms and brings her to her feet. He pleas with her to run, "Run. Running is the only way to survive."
"No!" she argues. "There is no where for me to run with you not beside me!"
He begs her, "Nor is there a life I want without you! Please, my love, run!"
Just thenscreaming lightning rains down in a barrage of explosive booms. Victoria can see the light of the monstermoving astoundingly fast as it barrels through the dark in a path back to them.Picking up a pitchfork and dashing, Victoria runs to meet the monster head on. She drives the pitch fork at its gut. They collide. The prongs pierce the monster. Victoria takes a second to smile at the wound. But her victory is short lived. Taking control of the pitchfork the monster dislodges the prongs and with Victoria still holding on it throws her.She lands on theother side of the well, skidding across the ground. "Go help Victoria." Jacop commands Geertrudia. He then runs,picking up one of the pitchforks.
Geertrudia goes to Victoria who is disoriented. Geertudia is not gentle and tries as she might to peel her off the ground. Eventually Victoria stands and they both see Jacop and Ignaas attacking the monster. Their will to fight is there but both men look pathetic. The monster is aggressive and erratic as it emits its cold glow in the pitch black.
Leaning over too far to swipe at Jacop, the monster misses. Using two hands Jacop swings the axe overhead. The edge of its blade comes down cutting into the monster for the first time, disappearing into its neck. Milky white ultra violet bleeds out. There is a still atmosphere as the intensity of the fight absolutely stops.
The watching storm flickers while Victoria searches for those beaming white eyes. She knows it can be slowed down. But it cannot be be stopped.
Jacop is immediately accosted with the monsters unrelenting nature as he is struck. In shock, he looks down to see the monster has gouged into his stomach with its hand. Its knuckles swimming beneath his organs.
Geertrudia falls to her knees screaming, "Jacop!"Catatonic and mortified, the air is stolen from Victoria's lungs. As if pierced herself, Victoria's heart aches, amplified by Geertrudia's cries. Frozen at the sight, her instincts begging for her to flee, still petrified, she cannot obey.
Jacop looks at the creature's veins that resemble tree roots spreading throughout its body. The glow comes from within its hands and wrists. From under the coat it wears, the veins run out from its chest and up its neck where they hug the monster's face. Its face, mountainous and leathered like any man who has been hardened by laborious toil. He stares at the two eyes that burn bright of a white fire overtaking his features.
The monster quickly stands lifting Jacop off the ground. The monsters hand drills through his stomach and then destructively erupts out of his sternum. His body is silhouetted before the monster's shining presence. These dark hours steal the color from sight leaving only a shadow dance to what is made feasible to Jacop's mutilation. He drops to his back, unmoving.
Ignaas hits the monster in the back. Taking notice that the pitchfork is wearing down, bending and dulling at the tips.
It turns around swinging wildly and with each treacherous step it comes for Ignaas, motivated. Ignaas runs for his blacksmith workshop to which the monster sprints after him. Ignaas throws the pitchfork aside and upon entering his workshop he seizes a metal rod, a piece of scrap metal that was sitting in a large wooden bucket of water. The buckets rope handle is hoisted on a hook. Ignaas dips the dry end of the rod into the furnace where a resting batch of molten metal is still glowing of red embers in a pool of burning yellow.
The monster close behind is making a mad dash into the cramped workshop filling up the space with its size. Ignaas sees his mistake all too late in luring such a creature of grand scale in here. The monster barrels in taking the brunt of the rods molten tip ahead of pummeling Ignaas across the workshop. Ignaas crashes through the dangerously sharp metals and hooks, colliding with the bucket of cooling water. The rope handle on the bucket breaks unable to endure Ignaas's body weight spilling the water straight into the furnace's molten metal.
A stream of smoke and molten metal explode through the roof of the workshop. The roof catches fire. It carries in the flaming geyser and raids other nearby houses alongside an innumerable amount of sparks and embers. The workshop is brimming with fire. Victoria and Geertrudia raise their arms to shield themselves from the heat enveloping them. Victoria stares into the inferno as she feels in her soul the world she cares for is being torn away one fragile piece at a time. Geertrudia gets up and comments in a coarse voice, "God help us."
Victoria's feelings boil and her personal animosity spills within her thoughts, "There is no god in it." She thinks to herself, "The tyrannical creation. That titan I've awoken brings foreseeable ends to all the places in the world that have found peace. There are nightmares I wish to return to that never reached the heights of terror where my heart endured exhausting torture. Nightmares that held a better place than this one. Where I have cried. Cried in sorrow to the end of tears and cries, and still wallow more. A peace-less life, where no meal or silent rumination is safe from the stains of horror this monster has made me to see. I wish this pain on them, in hopes there is some lesson they will learn, a mental stone turned to the face of empathy and a relearning of love, and the love of humanizing the people of the world. To see people as beautiful again the way we see nature as beautiful. The way we stop breathing to watch a single dew drop on a tulip's pedal in spring or the way the clouds build like castles in the sky high above the mountain. Still, to see them as people is enough, as a body of dreams, worlds residing under the surface housing compassion's, loves, fears, needs and talents. Still ill, I am confident in my clairvoyance and predict such a measure would be… it would be... to no avail. For to be a monster, it would first mean eradicating all remorse. There is no heart to seek out, none to negotiate with. I see a profoundness in perpetuating the belief of god now. To believe there is an all loving entity and yet; it is always the remorseless, unemphatic, dehumanizing, blood lust monsters that "god" grants power to. It is power, the pursuit of it and the abuse of it that have killed god the swiftest for me. I hope to climb above the pillars so that I may spit in the face of such a maker for the cruelty of their negligence."
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