Van Helsing

Dr. Frankenstein made his final adjustment.

"Igor, check the conductors."

His assistant made a face and turned to walk up the stairs. His defining feature was his twisted back, which forced him to hunch sharply to one side, making his gait unsteady. His features were blunt and, oddly, he had no eyebrows over his small, deep-set, and perpetually red-rimmed eyes. Long, stringy red hair hung down past the man's face, only adding to his peculiar looks.

Frankenstein had had doubts about hiring Igor to assist him in the lab. It was not his appearance, though he knew most others were put off by Igor's misshapen form, and Gerald and the other servants voiced concerns about him as well. Frankenstein understood their worry, but his friend Count Dracula had felt strongly about Igor. Besides, as a scientist, he preferred to deal with the real, the tangible -- with things that could be quantified.

And as a physician, Frankenstein understood the nature and cause of the deformity and had at one time dedicated his life to healing people such as Igor. In a rush of excitement, he realized that he was about to succeed beyond his wildest dreams. Even Gerald would be impressed, and he had rarely seen his servant excited about anything.

But Gerald is gone....

Yes...all of them were gone. Gerald had stayed the longest, his loyalty to the family running the deepest. Still, they had all left one by one. That had been what A year ago No, closer to two.

On a certain level, Frankenstein understood why. He had changed. His Work had completely absorbed him, and had let many other things slip. Even now he could not remember the last time he had rested. Sleep was not the pleasure it once was: dark dreams always came to him. His only release was his Work, where he could be lost and forget about everything else...

...even Elizabeth.

It hurt to think of her, so much so that the count had urged him many times not to. Dracula wanted what was best for him, for his Work. The count was helping him take his place with Hippocrates, Pasteur...the giants of medicine.

Great deeds required great sacrifice -- sacrifices like Elizabeth.

No! part of his mind rebelled. I do not want to give her up....

But he had. She stayed longer than the others, but then she, too, had abandoned him. It had been inevitable; she had never liked the count and was interfering with his Work -- the Work that was almost finished.

When he had succeeded, he would win Elizabeth back. They would all come back....

Yet, part of him knew it was too late. Too much had happened. Looking around his lab, he wondered what his father would think of what he had done to the watchtower of Castle Frankenstein. Then he was jolted by the realization that this was not his ancestral home. The count had Frankenstein move his lab to the Transylvanian region of Romania, and had provided him with this castle. It was a very generous gift: Dracula was truly his friend.