She created perhaps one of the best known characters of literature. One that would live forever and be told again and again. One that would inspire countless writers and even more debates of the meaning behind it all.
She is better known…as Mary Shelley.
She got the idea in a dream. I saw the pale student of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half vital motion. Frightful must it be; for supremely frightful would be the effect of any human endeavour to mock the stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world.
I know she was a believer in the Creator. Not just because of what she said at the end of this quote but because of her writing. You can see it. But through her life and at the end, that aspect was between her and God. She was a pioneer and her monster is a type that goes beyond the surface. It bears repeating. We should all write so brilliantly.
Today is her birthday and I thought of a short to write to share with you all. Christians can write horror. In a collaboration with 7 other awesome writers, each of us are writing a tale inspired by one of the seven deadly sins. I’m writing ‘Envy’
I also wrote a short called Obey. It is better to obey than to sacrifice. These could be considered horror. Oblige me.
When You Died, A Part Of Me Went With You.
Tommy. Billy. Matt. Jason.
They did everything together. Since the age of five when they first met in kindergarten, they began sharing their lives. However a few weeks before Tommy’s 18th birthday, he was killed in a car accident. The boys were stricken with grief. A few days later they convened outside of Billy’s house.
“Tommy was the strongest of us,” Billy cried, fighting tears.
Jason and Matt stayed quiet and nodded in time.
“He was the strongest link. I really don’t know what I’m going to do,” he continued.
Matt lifted his head. “I mean they say life goes on right? How is ours supposed to?”
Billy was considered the best of Tommy’s three best friends. “Life does go on. It has to…but I think…Tommy’s can too.”
“What? In our memories?” Matt snapped with sarcasm. “Dude, that’s a given. It’s b.s. anyway. I don’t want to “get over” this. Not right now anyway.”
“No,” Billy began, “not in our memories. I mean, yes, in our memories…but listen.”
Jason and Matt drew closer and stared at Billy waiting for his “idea”.
“Tonight…we visit Tommy. Tonight we get him out of that prison. He doesn’t belong in dirt like that! Not Tommy! Not our Tommy!”
Matt and Jason looked at each other then back at Billy. They nodded. Tommy smiled.
A few hours later, the boys, all dressed in black, went just as Billy planned to where Tommy was laid to rest. Billy wasted no time and ran behind a large monument where he had hidden some shovels, a small ladder and a spade he took from his father’s garage.
Jason was sweating profusely at this point.
“Dude! We haven’t even started! Wuss.”
“Dude! I loved Tommy too, but this is starting to get to real for me. I mean come on Billy! Matt…seriously?”
Matt lowered his head. “You don’t want to do this…take off,” he said.
Jason looked at him then at the dirt below. He clenched his jaw and was the first one to start digging.
“Yeah! YEAH!” Billy shouted. He grabbed the spade and started breaking the earth as well and Matt was close behind. They dug and dug and not one of them said a word.
Hours passed and Billy looked at his phone. “Guys…it’s 3:20. We should be close,” he mumbled wiping his brow.
Another hour passed and Billy was the first to hit the box.
They all looked at each other.
“There. He’s right there.”
Matt and Jason looked on anxiously. The only sound was the wind and the beating of their hearts.
Billy took a deep breath and opened the top of the casket as dirt rolled off.
“Oh, Tommy…” he whispered. Tommy’s face had abrasions all over one side of it. He lost his right hand and his lower right leg, just under his knee. The accident was horrific to say the least.
“It’s time, Tommy,” Billy smiled.
“What? What are you talking about Billy?” Jason shouted. “What!?”
“After I pull him out of here…he’s going to come back to us. I know it. My mom’s been a doctor for all of my life. I’ve picked up a lot of things from her books and journals. I can do this.”
“Billy?” Matt asked slowly.
“You guys have read Frankenstein. Fellas…we’re going to write Tommy a new story. Just like Shelley did. But he won’t be a wretch…or a fiend. He will come back to us. Our friend is coming back.”
Matt nodded. “Prometheus. Awaken,” he said softly with an ominous grin.
“He’s going to need a new hand…and a leg,” Billy said with eyes glassed-over. He went towards a black bag that hadn’t been touched. “That’s why I brought this,” he said raising it.
“I’ll go first,” Billy said. He then withdrew a surgical blade. “They say when someone dies, they take a piece of you. I say, for Tommy, we give him something to show for it.” He signaled to Matt to hold him and he bit down on a rolled up piece of cloth. Immediately he began cutting off his own hand. His right hand.
Jason stood back horrified as Billy sawed away at his hand. He didn’t appear to be in any pain. He was manic.
“Dude! No! Dude!” Jason swallowed hard and hunched forward and threw up.
“For Tommy, Jason! For Tommy!” Matt yelled holding down Billy just as he finished. Blood spilled onto the ground and Billy wrapped his hand.
“M-Matty…you’re next. Your leg.”
Matt looked at Billy and stared at the saw. He gulped.
“Then after you…Jason,” Billy whispered to Matt.
“What? You have a hand and you’ll get his leg! What do you need from me??” Jason yelled in fear.
Billy looked at Jason with a blank stare, his face pale. He grunted and winced in pain and then spoke:
“Tommy’s heart gave out.”
courtesy your friendly neighborhood Writer-Man. thwip!