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Victor Frankenstein had lost his perception of time.
He had no idea how long he’d been there and no idea how long he’d remain there. After a while, Victor had given up on trying to measure the time elapsed. It could have been hours. It could have been weeks. It could have been years. The only thing he knew for sure was that he trudging through around slowly, step by step, carrying a massive burden on his back.
The weight pressed down on him, forcing him into an agonizing position. His legs shook under the pressure, and his spine threatened to snap like a twig. And the most painful of all, his eyes were forced to stare at the ground. Humiliation burned his face when he thought about his position.
Bent over.
Submissive.
Unable to raise his head.
It was indeed an agonizing punishment.
In life, he’d been proud. He thought himself on a level similar to God’s, and he created life.
But is it not natural to pursue life? He thought as he watched his bare feet scrape against the stone floor, wincing when he took another step and felt the raw skin of his feet tear. I was only a man trying to understand the highest level of science. He failed to see how wanting to create was a sin that warranted this punishment.
Perhaps the result of his experiment was the reason for such suffering. His creation had been a monster, a murderer. A disease masquerading as a human. He concluded when he thought more about the-- the thing.
His footfalls ceased for a moment as he got lost in his thoughts.
The fiend he’d created likely lacked a soul.
Maybe he does have a soul. He reflected. His legs began to tremble from exertion. He urged himself to keep moving, once again watching his feet move one step at a time. I hope he does... His voice muttered in his brain. I hope he does somehow have a soul so he can suffer after he dies. The very idea of it almost brought an acidic grin to his face. He can rot in Hell and burn there. I hope he receives every torture there is. All of it is well deserved for his sins.
The corners of his mouth actually did turn upward the more he thought of the brute writhing against the flames and screaming in pain. Perhaps the burns would improve his appearance. He thought, shuddering at the ugliness of the ogre.
Victor stumbled, nearly getting crushed under his burden. That dragged his mind back to the present. He gritted his teeth and trudged forward.
From what he understood, he’d been arrogant on Earth and this humiliation was his penance. He still didn’t quite see how he had been overly prideful. He had done what any good scientist would have done and pursued an intense study of biology.
“Our Father Who is in Heaven dos abide--” Victor nearly froze, hearing voices aside from his own for the first time since finding himself in Purgatory. Had they been speaking the whole time? He’d hardly interpreted the prayers as more than background noise. His head would have jerked up in surprise if his face hadn’t been downcast. Blinking and pushing aside his thoughts regarding the monster and his past life on Earth, he decided to listen.
“...Thy kingdom come to us with all its peace; if it come not, we of ourselves cannot attain to it, no matter how we strive...”
He listened to the voices as they repeated they’re prayer over and over. Eventually, Victor began to chant the words in time with all the other voices.
Slowly, slowly he began to further consider the words that escaped his lips. “... that they may rise, weightless and pure into the wheeling stars.” The prayer echoed in the air, being recited without end like a difficult measure of music in an orchestra’s rehersal.
“No long now, not long now,” said a single voice from beside him.
Victor could not turn to the voice, so he only continued to move forward.
“We shall be with the Lord soon,” a tired voice remarked. Victor bit the inside of his cheek, noticing how the intonation sounded like it had been scrubbed clean of pride. “Soon, we will be with our creator.”
Those words made him feel a bit warmer.
His creator.
He would be with his Lord in Heaven. He’d never consider himself to be extremely devout, but he understood that separation from his God, from his creator, put him in a hellish situation.
Something that felt like an electric shock ran through him. Did the fiend not say something similar to that? He strained to remember before deciding to push the thought from his mind and continue to lug the burden of his sin onward.
Step by step. Inch by inch.
He focused on the words of the prayer as he forced one foot in front of the other.