The Legacy of Frankenstein: Day 2 – Recapture

      While kink with consent can be ecstatic, it is torture for the unwilling participant.
      What of the will of this resurrected collection of corpses, the Clockwork Concubine pictured below?
      The brain transplanted into the stolen skull was that of an adult, but how many memories survived the death of the unwitting donor? What capacity for reason survived the lightning that brought life to the recipient?
      By several accounts, it is clear that her mind was sharp enough to find a means to escape the castle in which she was held captive. Likewise, she had the bravery to to take her chance, despite the unspeakable punishments her creator had inflicted in drive to dominate.
      A bit of teasing luck also spurred her to action. One night, from a small window in the tallest tower, she spied lights twinkling in the windows of the village below. In that moment, the wind turned her way, and on it came the sound of voices raised in song. They were discordant, drunkenly spilling from the hamlet’s only pub, but to her ear, it was the happiest sound she’d ever heard.
      She slipped out of the castle, through the woods, and down the hillside. The cries of owls and wolves unseen in the dark quickened her pace, and stressed her fragile seams. A patchwork person, clad in not but the collar, garter, and stockings which her creator bade her wear, one can only imagine the reception she may have found in the rustic village below.
      We do know that her flight from the castle had parched her throat, and that she managed to obtain a tall mug of spirits with which to quench her thirst. ‘Till that point in her corporeal afterlife, she’d had not but milk and water to drink. The alcohol distorted her senses. It twisted the already unfamiliar architecture into forms like those that a later generation would recognize from in a particular silent film, “The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari.” She swayed. She staggered. Alas, being virtually incapacitated would make her easier prey for the madman fast on her heels.
      Certain documents have been lost to time. Parts of the history, if ever they were recorded, have yet to resurface. We are left with many unanswered questions.
      Was she impregnated by the doctor himself? Or did the womb that he placed in her patchwork frame already contain a fetus? In either case, did she know of her condition? Did she hope to raise the child free of her creator’s control, or did she seek a more sympathetic doctor to terminate the creature within her?
      Perhaps the seed was planted by someone she encountered during her adventure in the outside world. If so, we can only hope that she was a willing participant.
      Whatever the case, she was ultimately robbed of her hard-won freedom, and denied any choice at all. Under cloak of night, her creator pursued her with one thought burning in his mind.
Acrylic on 24″ x 30″ panel
Master Nick Roberts © 2010, 2012

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