I need honest opinions here. This is a rough excerpt of a fan fiction that I hopping to start really writing soon. It is the Frankenstein/Phantom of the Opera crossover I mentioned a day or so ago. The basic synopsis is that Erik is the Creature and, after Frankenstein’s death, he travels the world looking for a purpose and someone to accept him for who he is. This piece is from (roughly) chapter seven where the Creature is trying to find a name to give to Christine. (No, I haven’t written that far yet, that is just where I started). Please enjoy and give me feed back.
‘My name? She wants to know my name? Why would such something as insignificant as a name be so important? Will “Angel” not do?’ The Creature continued to pace around his study, trying with all his might to come up with a name. But not just any name. ‘This name must mean something, I cannot just spout something out! This name must be great!’ So he continued to think, shouting aloud names of important men.
“Henry! No, too much blood on his hands. I do not want my beautiful Christine to know of the blood that is on mine. Louie? No, it sounds…frilly…that also will not do.” He paused for a moment, when another name came to his mind. “Do I dare? Adam. It fits, but do I dare compare myself to something that was created in beauty? Though, like Adam, I was created from nothing, he had a purpose. A mission. His master made him like Himself. Adam was made in the open, was made to be a king of the Earth! And what was I made for? For a ‘genius’s’ folly. He made me because he could! I have no purpose, and I am a king of nothing but my own world of darkness…like Satan…like Lucifer…” He paused again in his speech. He stood still, in deep thought. As he turned it over and over again in his mind it became more and more clear. “I am Lucifer. King of darkness! Master of my own fate!”
Suddenly a sound came from behind him. The Creature turned quickly to see the source, but saw nothing in the darkness. ‘Perhaps a sheet of music falling to the floor.’ He stared for a moment longer, but his thoughts were too great to suppress. He continued on. “If I tell Christine that I am Lucifer…what will she think then. I am not an Angel, but the Devil himself? She would have license to fear me then…No, I cannot. Though it is a most fitting name…No! No, something else will just have to do.”
The creature searched the room for some kind of inspiration. But no matter how hard he tried he could find nothing to suit him. “This space! It is not meant for thinking! There is not enough room here for my thoughts to stretch! How I long for the fields near Ingolstadt. I could think then! The fields of grass my carpet, the flowers my bed, the Moon…oh the sweet solitary Moon. She was my light. I need air!” Without hesitation, he grabbed his cloak and was out the door, heading to the world above.
After a few minutes of silence, after she knew he had gone for good, Christine rose from her hiding place. ‘Oh, that poor soul’ she thought, ‘To not have a name. But what was he speaking of? Being created? What does it all mean? Is this a dream? Or a nightmare coming true? And what name shall he receive out there in the night? Though, I am sure that any name would be better than…’ She couldn’t even bring herself to think it. It was just too horrid. She did not know how long her Ang—…the man would be, but she knew that standing in his study thinking was probably not the best idea. Christine gathered her skirts and made her way back to the bedroom as silently as she could.
Like I said rough…right?