Luscious
There was a month left before graduation.
Victor, confident and pleased with the results of his work, asked his landlady if he could plan an evening of company for the night after they were meant to depart university.
His landlady was overjoyed and arranged to be absent from the premises and intended to travel to join a cousin in a nearby town. She planned to leave two days before the event and return three days after its completion, which was lucky, as Victor was certain he would require time for cleanup.
He was comfortable ceasing his search for animal subjects. He had varied his spells of choice until he found one that created a lasting effect for an hour—long enough to impress anyone who came to witness.
Unfortunately, that incantation winded him for a day after using it, so he would have to be careful about how he spaced his trials.
He wouldn’t want to drop to the floor in front of his classmates and not be able to accept a glass of champagne or a pat on the back.
He should be more worried about that, but quite frankly, he didn’t have the time.
That besides, Victor needed to start human testing before his anxiety about it got the best of him.
He was strong and fast enough now from his nightly hunts that he felt confident carrying a body.
But it needed to be a small one or someone very slight.
The thought of a child’s body made him feel ill, but he could work with a short woman or a very slender man.
He also needed someone sick, who would benefit from treatment; he couldn’t just snatch someone random. Victor watched the hospitals closely.
On a windy Thursday, he got lucky.
There was a drunk slumped against the wall of the tavern. Flesh burned away from choosing drink over bread. Victor crouched beside him and put a finger to his pulse. It was rapid and his skin was hot. He likely wouldn’t make it through the night without intervention.
Victor stretched, then lifted the man from the ground. They stumbled together down the street, into the back door of his landlady’s house, and down the stairs into his lab. The man was mumbling, insensate, and his clothes were wet with urine. If he survived, Victor would find new clothes for him.
Victor guided him gently to the table, lifted his legs until he was lying flat.
“Please don’t remember this,” he murmured, and placed a soft wet cloth over the man’s mouth and nose until the anesthetic did its job. He secured the man’s arms, legs, and neck with leather straps before hooking him up to his many machines.
Victor left his side for a moment to cobble together a vitamin B infusion, but when he returned, the man’s face was turning blue.
Moving quickly, Victor shoved the breathing tube down the man’s throat, restarted his heart, and pulled out his blue book.
The man was still flush, ribs moving, as Victor placed his hand over the man’s chest.
This moment. He couldn’t take it back. He could hear the ghost of his father’s disapproval and the words of Mr. Sauer screaming at a distance. He paused until his soul felt quiet.
Then Victor began to read, but nothing happened.
The water didn’t vibrate, the lights didn’t flicker. He skipped to another passage quickly and tried that one instead.
This time, the man jackknifed on the table and started seizing.
Victor startled but kept firm, pressing him down, reading to the last despite the dizziness and the weakening of his own knees.
He had dealt with seizures before, held a small girl through them till the end back home. He was strong enough for this.
The man’s eyes shot open. A horrible noise seeped out from between the breathing tube and the sides of his mouth. His back arched to near breaking point. Victor stopped reading and looked between the man’s chest and his face in terror.
At once blood and viscera exploded from the man’s mouth and nose, coating the wall behind them with scarlet and flesh. Victor jerked back, turning the electricity off immediately before the fluid became more dangerous than it already was, and watched—horrified—until it was finished.
The man slumped back to the table, unquestionably deceased. His torso concave from missing internal parts.
Unfinished and ugly—a failure, unquestionable.