Page 68 of Starry with a Chance of Nightshade

“Well, for one, Hollywood made the monster out to be big and green. In reality he wasn’t. He was large, yes, but not eight feet like has been reported. He’s just shy of seven feet tall. And you’d think he was human when you see him. When he was first made, his scars were very noticeable, but the last time I saw him, they weren’t as bad,” said Stratton. “Actually, he reminds me a lot of a really fit linebacker who is a little rough around the edges.”

“You’re telling me you’ve met Frankenstein? And he’s, what, misunderstood with some scars?” asked Brett.

“Common misnomer. The monster isn’t Frankenstein, though technically it is his surname too,” said Stratton. “After all, the monster has parts from a Frankenstein family member who had passed away. Victor, his maker, is Frankenstein. The monster you’re thinking of goes by the name Adam. It’s a play off the biblical reference of the first man—Adam. He was the first of Victor’s experiments to be a total success.”

“Of course he goes by that,” said Brett with a groan. “He’s killing people and eating brains?”

“No, he doesn’t eat brains,” said Stratton, wishing there was a faster way to explain it all. “I’m setting the scene for what I thinkisdoing the brain eating and killing. It starts with Dr. Victor Frankenstein and what he did hundreds of years ago.”

Brett was quiet a moment before he drew in a sharp breath. “He’s who you’ve seen use death magiks and how you know about the consequences, isn’t he?”

“He’s one of the people I’ve seen use them, yes,” said Stratton. “And yes, the consequences weren’t great. Adam, like noted in the story, had a stretch of being ruthless. He was angry, rightfully so. He handled it all wrong. He took lives. He sought revenge. But he wasn’t fully to blame, I understand that now. Most of the fault lay with Frankenstein himself. Victor had a God complex. He thought himself above the rules of nature. He sought to cheat death, and he did.”

“By using electricity?” asked Brett. “That part was true, right?”

“Yes. But electricity alone didn’t do it,” said Stratton. “Victor’s line has Fae in it. During his experiments, he unknowingly tapped into what were then latent powers. He called forth lightning and a storm.”

“Like Poppy and the girls can do?” asked Brett, his eyes widening.

Stratton nodded. “Yes. Exactly. Elemental magik.”

“Shit,” breathed Brett.

“Yes. Shit,” agreed Stratton. “His first attempts were unsuccessful. So, he tried again. He used parts from a lot of sources. One of those sources was a paranormal underground crime ring operating out of London back in the 1800s.”

Brett was all ears as he leaned in more. “Why do I think I’m not going to like to hear what kind of parts they were dealing in?”

“Because you’re a good cop and you’ve already guessed,” said Stratton.

“Demon parts?” asked Brett, his voice rising slightly.

Nodding, Stratton exhaled loudly. “Among other things. The monster—or creature, as I tend to refer to them—that finally worked the best, the biggest success Dr. Frankenstein had, came from parts he’d acquired that had belonged to high-level demons. I don’t know everything he’d gotten his hands on becausehedidn’t even realize what they were. He thought it all came from humans. That maybe they’d been in a fire or had sustained an injury before death that left them different—off. He didn’t know. Not that taking from non-supernatural sources was okay or anything.”

“Right,” said Brett, shaking his head some. “I cannot believe I’m having a serious conversation about Frankenstein.”

“Why not? This town is crawling with Van Helsings,” said Stratton. “Your wife is a Proctor witch. They can be traced back to the Salem witch trials. Her grandparents are ghosts in your house that appear very much alive when there. Her best friend is the daughter of Abraham Van Helsing. You stood against the very master vampire who sired Dracula himself. You know Seward and Harker—both of whom Stoker wrote about. What makes them any more real and Frankenstein any less?”

“Nobody prepared me for this level of horseshit when I took the job of police chief here,” said Brett with a huff.

“Yet it’s part of the job,” said Stratton.

“I’m strongly considering a career change,” added Brett.

Stratton laughed. “No, you’re not. This is in your blood. Protecting the innocent.”

“Same could be said of you,” reminded Brett.

“Yep. But I won’t lie. I went through a period nearly forty years ago during which I started to question if the innocents were worth bothering to protect,” he confessed. “If humans were maybe beyond redemption.”

“I get that. No judgment from me. I’m wracking my brain thinking about everything that might have gone into the making of these monsters and just what we might be dealing with,” said Brett.

“The sky is kind of the limit,” said Stratton. “Those parts, they were the missing ingredient. The secret is in the sauce, if you will. That combined with Victor’s Fae side and the science behind it all made way for successful tries. Adam was the first one who came to life for lack of a better word. But there were more. Many more. And not all of them were like Adam, who, when he wasn’t seeking revenge, wanted to expand his mind, to devour literature, poems, and so much more. For as pissed as I was with Victor, I’ll hand it to him, Adam is smart.”

“I take it most of them aren’t,” said Brett.

“Correct. Most needed to be hunted and destroyed,” confessed Stratton. “Drest and I spent decades doing just that. All but Adam was contained—at least that was our hope. By the time we found him, a century had passed since his creation, and it had been nearly as long since he’d harmed anyone. He’d spent the rest of the time making amends, trying to right wrongs. Hell, he’d even taken up standing against his own kind to protect others and battle demons too. He’s an asset to the fight against evil. We understood that but knew our higher-ups wouldn’t. We turned our heads, pretending we didn’t find him.”

Brett bit his inner cheek, nodding slightly. “I get it. You thought he was redeemable.”

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