Frauleinstein

Chapter VIII: Monstrous Developments, Part I

Chapter VIII

Monstrous Developments

The Monster looked up, disturbed from his silent meditation by something. Yes, the bell was ringing, calling him to prayers. But something, there was something else. Just before the bell, he could have sworn...

For the past twenty years he had found his place high in the Alps with the monks, living in the Monastery of St. Jude the Apostle, patron saint of lost causes. Although he had not exposed his secret to the monks, he felt a sense of acceptance. Much of his time was spent in silent solitude, which suited him well.

Most of his days were spent alone in his cell – nicer than it sounds, though perhaps not much. He would spend a great deal of his time in meditation, however he had a number of activities which kept him occupied. He had a small garden he would tend, or he would study books borrowed from the monastery's library, or write at his desk. Sometimes he was requested to go into town with the others, where they would participate in manual labours. He enjoyed the labour, taking pleasure from being able to contribute especially because of his great size and strength, however these times were difficult as he was in perpetual fear of discovery under his hooded robe.

Once a week, he and the other members of his community would take a long walk through the mountainous terrain, at which times they were allowed to speak with one another. He would participate in the walk, but not in the speaking. Nonetheless, this was his favourite time of all. Even with his face closely guarded behind his hooded robe, he felt a bond to the other men, and a joy of his own as he listened in on their conversations and laughter. The others would occasionally speak to him, or clap him on the back to let him know he was accepted, but they always respected his need to remain silent. Perhaps they believed he couldn't speak. It didn't matter...

Yes, there was something else; he recognized it now. Behind the bells, masked by them perhaps but becoming more apparent. Faint, but appallingly clear. The Monster opened his mouth to breathe it in, to make sure. A taste on the wind, something like – horror. Yes, it was starting again.

The Monster quickly removed his robe, dressing in more typical street clothes, including his hooded cloak. He looked at his desk and the enormous, weighty tome which was his work of twenty years. His thoughts, his inspirations, his nightmares. He lifted the book and tossed it into the fire.

He scanned the room quickly, looking for anything he might need. He didn't have much, but then his needs would be few. He would only travel with what he could carry.

Opening the middle drawer of his desk he pulled out the Bible which he had acquired over one hundred and fifty years earlier. It was a large, full-sized version which most people would have found rather bulky, however it slipped quite easily into one of his enormous pockets. It was the one constant in his life, and he would keep it.

The bell had gone silent; the other monks would all be at prayer. The Monster slipped out of the monastery unseen, into the late afternoon sun. Snow was falling, and an icy wind was blowing from the mountains. He pulled back his hood and breathed in the cold air over his tongue, tasting the winds.

"East."