Congratulations are in order, I believe. I understand that your novel has been received by the public favourably, even if the critics cannot understand good storytelling. You have captured my woe perfectly.
I trust that you followed my instructions and burnt my original notes? They must be destroyed. I thank you for changing the process so that misguided souls will not follow into my tortured footsteps. I would not wish this upon anybody.
Mary, in our correspondence you begged to know what was missing. I cannot tell you, because I do not know. I attempted the creation again, to make an Eve to my Adam. No, I am not referring to the misguided attempts in the Orkneys that you chronicled so well. I gave into my pride once more, in Greenland.
They have a creature in their mythos, an unpronounceable name that prowls through the graveyards and steals freshly interred bodies. A perfect place for an abhorrent creature like myself. I became the creature, stealing through their graveyards and claiming those bodies.
I was also fortunate. With my limited medical knowledge, the townspeople came to me with their injuries. Blood for my second creature I could collect. Limbs from logging accidents also, a staple in this small town. The Mayor set me up at an abandoned farm on the outskirts, somewhere I could work in privacy.
It all came together. My work was complete, I had renewed my serum and yet when I applied the electricity there was nothing. No spark, no life. Just a collection of dead pieces. Should you ever write a sequel to my misadventures, you can rest assured that I am not just withholding the secret from you and your readers. I am withholding it from myself.
The creature remains at large, Mary. You must remember that he devoured Paradise Lost and seeing my name in print may seek to enrage him. I fear that the tragedy surrounding your husband Percy may be the result of his ire. You must get away and take your children with you.
I can only apologise for bringing this trouble into your lives. With hope, I shall find the creature. I only wish that my trip to the Arctic had been more successful. Soon though, soon I shall be with my dear Elizabeth, poor Clerval and my father by her side waiting for me. I only hope that they see it to forgive me, as do I hope that you do.
Perhaps my search in the wilds of Peru will help. The tall tales of the giant that San Martin has assisting him may lead to the truth.
I beg of you though, let people believe me dead. As time passes, my creature and I shall pass into myth and story. I believe it would be better for it to remain that way, to prevent the follies of those who follow. Even if I cannot find the secret once more, perhaps they would be able to.
With all my kindest wishes and deepest regrets,
Doctor Victor Frankenstein, Esq.
P.S. You were too kind to listen to my story. I fear that I shall not survive Peru and as such my last will and testament names you as my sole beneficiary. It is not much, but hopefully it shall serve you well.
This one was really quite fun. I even did some research (by which I mean I looked at Wikipedia) but I think that most of it makes sense and occurs at roughly the same time. It’s been years since I read Frankenstein so this became quite a challenge.
The Idiot in Tin Foil