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About Deviant Artist VeronicaFemale/Sweden Group :iconfrankenstein-club: Frankenstein-club
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John sat there in his cage, kept awake and alert by the heavy rain and loud thunder outside his window. He had his back laid up against the cold bars. It ached from all the prods and whippings from the sticks of the guards, to see if they could bring that rage out from him as before, but to their surprise and sheer frustration, John didn't fight, nor yell back. He did not even utter a single curse nor threatened towards the audience or his captors. The guards at the end of the day after beating him some more took his silence as a sign that he was either stubborn or broken.

"If they only knew," thought John. He was expecting something to happen, as if waiting for a promised miracle. He was sure his encounter with Laura's grandmother was a hallucination from the lack of food and rest, but he held firm that hallucination or not, it was some kind of sign of hope. He was in need of food and sleep that he had been depriving himself of out of depression and fear. Fear, oh God how it held him.

He believed that Laura was alive, but what was happening to her? Was that pig Pierre, his father, his rat accomplice, and others beating her, starving her, cutting her, raping her? Were they trying to tear down her spirits by insulting her and her family, threatening her with her friends or his or hers lives. He felt his blood started to boil and his hands clenched into fists thinking of the horrible presumptions. He unclenched them as soon as he took notice. "Calm yourself, John," he thought to himself. "You have to keep hope, for yourself, for her."

The one question in his mind at that moment was when?


She ran.

Away from everything.

Away from the sorrows and anxiety she had endured everyday in that cursed house.

All she could see was the darkness; shivering as the wind knifed through her dress and the thin shawl she managed to steal. She could see no lights, but she dared not stop; fear was still clutching at her heart after what happened in the room.

It felt so surreal, one moment Pierre was strangling her, she thought her last moment has come, then suddenly there was a great thunder. A crash of branches and hard glass came over them, cutting the tender flesh of her arms and hands as she protected her face, but one, small and sharp had made a nice, long slice over her left cheek.

First she just laid there shocked in disbelief over what had just happened. She could feel the small burnings over her arms and cheek and warm blood streaming out from them.

Then seizing the moment and with great strength, Laura had pulled the keys off the Pierre's side and unlocked the door. Freeing herself from the cell, she moved out and started to run. She heard from the opposite side of the mansion, the newly awake guards and servants running up to check the commotion. She took one of the smaller stairs, headed down with quick, quiet steps towards the main door. With a small glance at the turmoil from the other side of the mansion, which was getting louder and more chaotic, she fumbled with the locked door. Despite the pain, she finally managed to unlock it, and without any hesitation, she ran out into the dark storm.

She ran along the waterside, trying to follow the river. Relief and adrenaline pounded through her body and for a while, she just ran without stopping. Suddenly she tripped and went sprawling. Twisting her ankle, a sharp pain shot through her foot. Laura have to slump against an old tree close to the bank. The ankle was injured and she could barely walk with it, so having no choice, she had to sit under the tree to try get some protection from the storm.

It wasn't easy and just as the adrenaline was starting to drain from her body, feeling the cold rain inside her clothes and mix with her warm blood, Laura couldn't hold it in anymore.

The terrible events of these past hours were all too much, so leaning against the tree, she began to cry.

Both in despair and relief.

Her father was alive.

Alive and he was looking for her.

But did he know where she was? Had he also been tricked by Mr. Crottington and believed she was dead to? She had to immediately contact Bovary's, but what can she and they do when the contact with the police and the authority was broken? Did they side with Mayor Rochester for his blood money?

For a moment, she wanted the pain and anxiety in her heart disappeared and everything that happened to wash away with the storm. It felt as if it was her fault that he was in prison, tortured, and treated like an animal. If he hadn't met her, he probably would have gone straight to Victor Frankenstein and perhaps...perhaps find solution to his agony and loneliness. It was a small shot, but he would not been caged. It would have been better than this hell.

Suddenly she stopped crying. Was it her imagination or did she hear something? Opening her eyes, her vision was blurry, but she managed to see a faint light not so too far where she sat. Quickly she closed her eyes; the wind gently blew around her short, red hair then she opened them and saw the light again.

She wasn't dreaming.

And it was coming closer.

"Hello?" she called back, her voice trembling as the light turned to her direction and came closer. She was going to call again, but stopped when it occurred to her it could be one of Mayor Rochester's people.

The moving shadow behind the light made her clutch her arms around the knees tighter. Laura didn't move, her heart was racing. She told herself she couldn't be seen if she made a slightest movement so the shadow would only pass by, but the light was coming closer and closer.

So she curled in a ball and protected herself as best she could, hoping that the light would move her towards safety and not away from it.

Three days later...

The butcher stood behind the counter, wrapping a piece of meat while his brow was furrowed over the latest news. "Missing?"

"Yes. Found Pierre pierced with a stick right into his heart and the servants says it was Laura, "Said the old woman with a worried, but mostly existed face.

The butcher snorted. He had heard this tale before from the other customers who have visited his shop during the past days after the terrible "accident" in the mansion. He had heard this tale several times and wasn't really surprised, but everyone else was at a loss for words, including the two women standing beside the old one, both shocked hearing the news.

"Laura? Where? H-how?"

"In Laura's room where she stayed," the old woman continued. "Heard there was blood everywhere and Pierre's face was hardly recognizable because of the glass had cut through the very bone of his."

The Butcher felt the corners of his lips twitch, "Impossible."

"It's true!" the woman said, looking wide-eyed at him, "Mayor is furious! He's having all his men search for her. In the woods, in the houses, down at the river, they are looking everywhere."

He had heard the story three times and if the day hadn't been too long, they had their shop searched three times. Requested or rather threatened, if they have seen Laura or knew where she could have gone except to the Bovary's, but every time, both he and his son said they didn't know where she was, where she had gone too, and even let them, despite their displeasure, searched though the rooms behind the counter. It insulted him, but no one dared to cross paths with Mayor Rochester and his men. Not even the butcher himself, even though he was one of the toughest men in town.

"He won't stop until he has her head on a plate," the old woman continued, "Poor girl."

"But what will happen to that creature?" Adrian wondered.

The old woman gave him a small shrug, "Probably execute him."

Only vaguely aware of his son's small movements hearing this, Adrian`s hands` trembled slightly as he handed the sausages over to his father.

"Why?" The butcher asked, pretending he didn't see the nervous look on his son`s face or his trembling hands.

"Because IT is the Witch's servant and Mayor Rochester is going rampage. He's demanding that the judges should kill the beast and give him justice," the old woman said, a small smile creasing the corners of her lips. "Serve her and that beast right I think."

" know-" A man with a long, white beard jerked a thumb at the paper on the window that showed John`s unrealistic portrait.

"I always thought Laura was a strange girl," a plump woman close to the man said, throwing the paper a sharp glance. "Just like her grandmother."

The butcher scoffed,"This is overdramatic. I have seen him and he doesn't look that hideous."

"He or IT is hideous to me," the plump woman snorted. "Ugly as IT doesn't deserve to walk on this earth or in heaven," She took her package and, with her nose held high, she walked out from the shop.

The woman's last word sent a shiver down on the butcher's spine, for he had seen what Mayor Rochester had done to his previous victims of his rage and it hadn't been a pleasant sight to see. The Butcher sighed, taking the coins from the table and then took care of the other customers` orders. After the last customer walked out from the shop, both father and son let out a long weary sigh of relief.

"You better know what you're doing boy," the butcher muttered, his whole face was tight with displeasure as he took a cloth and started clean the desk.

"This is getting worse and worse," Adrian said, as he nervously adjusted his dirty apron.

"Be careful," the butcher, his father said, and then pointed to two men who were dressed in police suits outside their shop. "If they know you're hiding a certain someone, you will feel the rope around your neck before you can speak "I'm innocent"."

Hearing these words Adrian suddenly dropped the knife he was holding. His cheeks turned pale as he stammered, "They wouldn't do that. We are merely-"

The butcher walked closer and stared down at Adrian. He was taller than his son. A black long beard covered his face, his arms more muscled, and his eyes more hard and steady. Together with the bloody apron and the butcher knife he was almost frightening, even to Adrian.

"You are, not we, and as soon as that girl is strong enough, you make sure that she'll be gone from this town immediately."

"I-I will father," Adrian stammered as he picked up the knife. "I promise," Then he turned to his smiling face again as a new customer entered the shop.

"You're such a fool," his father muttered as he walked back to the backroom. He was too old for this, too old for cutting meat and hearing old ladies gossips, too old to walk upright after hours of chopping, cutting, and slicing different meats, stuffing sausages, and sometimes get a cut on his finger, too old to hid a innocent, young woman from the most dangerous man in the land and act as if everything was fine.

Lying on a hard bed, with men`s clothes that almost was too big for her slim body, her arms was bandaged and her short hair was a curled mess that needed a strong comb to fix it. She was staring with furrowed eyebrows up at the ceiling, trying to figure out a plan. She had spent her days so far resting, sleeping, cleaning the room, lying on the bed, and zoning in and out of consciousness, Sometimes, out of boredom, she placed her ear at the door, listening to the sound of the customers downstairs, hearing tales about John and her.

And it was slowly killing her.

Laura has been staying in Adrian's small room for three days. As she came back to consciousness after Adrian had found her under the tree and carried back to his home, she wanted do immediately go to the prison to rescue John, bbut Adrian had stopped her before she would do anything stupid and forced her stay in his room until she was well again.

It was a good idea, considering her injuries and almost being shocked to death, and accidentally being the cause of Pierre's death, Laura needed a great deal of sleep and doing something drastic might be the end for her, and especially for John. The bed was smaller than she had slept in the prison room, the mattress was harder and the blanket thin, but it felt more like a blessing than sleeping in that cursed mansion.

Suddenly, Laura heard someone knocking at the door and her body automatically stiffed. More than once she had to flee up to the attic when the police or Mayor Rochester's men made their house search. The attic was small, but well hidden enough so she should be quite as a mouse, and hide until their were gone, but it was nerve-wracking hearing them talking about her, looking through the beds, closets and be just few meters from the hiding place.

"Hello, Hope I didn't disturb you?" Adrian said as he walked in, holding a bowl of soup and a piece of bread in his hands. Laura sighed, letting herself fall back on the bed, relieved it was only Adrian.

"Hope you like fish soup," he said and placed the bowl on the table.

"Thank you Adrian."

"You don't need to thank me. Just get well and we'll see how to fix this mess," he looked down over the multitude of white bandages covering Laura's hands and arms. "Any infections yet? If you have any fever I can go down and bring some-"

"You actually would help me? The witch with her monster from hell?"

"I never thought of you as a witch and I'm not the only one who thinks so."

"Oh, really!?" She stared venomously at him. "Then how many people have not been visiting the "show"? One, Two?

"Me, my father, the Bovary's and many, many others. You're not alone Laura."

Laura sighed, burying her face in her hands, "Forgive me for my outburst. I never thought anyone would help me. When I saw you, my first thought was that you were going to deliver me back to Mayor Rochester."

"I would never do that!" Adrian protested.

"When the people burned down my cottage and imprisoned John and showed him like a circus animal, I doubted there was any goodness at all in the world. If someone is just slightly different than you, you treat them...y-you treat them." Laura started to sob. "Like they weren't human at all."

Seeing her miserable, Adrian kneeled in front of her and took her hands in his. "I don't know what John is?" he said softly, "A man who accidently got injured by one of the damned machines they build in the damned factories these days, or a unfortunately victim of a birth defect or just a…a.."

"A monster?" She sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

"No, no that. I didn't mean.."

"It's all right Adrian." Laura smiled sadly. "I know who he is, but it's a long, complicated story that would probably take forever to use the right, proper words for it."

"You don't need to tell me if you don't want to, but your-" Adrian hesitated before he continued, "- your friend has been shown like a strange animal to all people. Beaten and treated like shit, except for Esther and her husband, no one cares about it."

Hearing this, Laura's stomach twisted again and she felt tears trailing down her cheeks. How many times had she heard this, how many times had her soul cried in agony over this barbaric performance.

"You care, don't you?" Her voice came out in a whisper.

"I do, but I'm a coward Laura, nothing to be proud of," Adrian sighed.

While she could feel her shoulders drawing back and her muscles tightening, Laura stood up, her face turned suddenly hard and looked down at Adrian. "Show me," she demanded.


"Show me where he is."

"Like I said thousands times before, I can`t Laura." He moved up to gently pushed Laura out of the way and started to walk out. "It's still too dangerous for you to be outside."

Laura moved in front of him and forcefully pushed him against the wall, her hands holding his shirt tight. "I want to see him!" she spat out, finding strength in her anger.

"Laura!" Adrian was surprised by her strength, he tried to push her aside again, but she held him there, "I'm sorry, but no."

"There is no No, You'll help me or else."

"How?!" Adrian shouted, grabbing Laura by the wrists, "You don't think that he has tried to get himself free considering his strength? There are guards everywhere. They are patrolling the house the whole time with guns and pistols. They have him chained to the teeth and because of their harsh treatment, he can barely stand to defend himself, and if you think that just walking in there and threaten them with a loaded gun, then you'll be dead in a second."

"But if we could manage to sneak in a small knife to him and-"

"It's impossible. They would check you and even if you could dress up as a boy, they would recognize your hair and within a minute put you in a cell next to him."

"But what if you, me and Bovary's-"

"Like what? Gang up together and storm the cell. They are too many."

"But-but if, What if-?" She started to stammer, feeling her anger and her ideas floating away, by the wind. A growing realization was started forming in her mind as she removed her hands from his shirt and took several steps backward from him.

"There must be a way, must or he will-"

Slowly, Adrian gently placed his hands on her shoulders to support her. "I got some money you can take, it not so much it would help you on the road to Marseille. If you dress up as a man and cover your hair with a hat, it might give you some protection-"

"Even she is not thinking straight and you are not either boy," the Butcher suddenly appeared with crossed arms and walked into the room and stared at her sternly. "My boy might be a coward, but he's right that there are guards in every corner of that bloody prison and after your little escape Mayor Rochester is like a bloodhound. Are you aware what he might do to get your attention?"

Laura knew the answer "John..."

"Exactly. That bastard might torture or kill him, but if I know him right, he is going to make a big show of off it."

"What do you mean?"

The butcher was silent for a moment, when he spoke, his harsh voice changed into a low, calm tone, "You have been isolated too long...He is going to put that creature on public execution."

Laura blinked, once. Twice. Three times at the man in front of her, wondering if she heard it all right or not.

"No. No...He can`t. He just can't!" she stuttered, feeling her blood turning cold.

"Doesn't matter. He would have to find a good cause to get rid of him after what happened to his son and the people hate that Creature."

"Are they so blind that they are themselves the monsters who wants to kill an innocent, good man?!" Laura shrieked. She felt her body start to shake, her arms clasping around herself like she was freezing.

This couldn't be real. It just couldn't. 'It wasn't her intention to create this horrible mess and kill Pierre. Even if it wasn't her fault at all, because she fled from the mansion, John was now in great danger and she was powerless to stop them.'

"It would have been better if I had stayed in that cursed mansion than letting the village and Rochester take poor John."

Patting gently Laura's shaking shoulders, Adrian gave his father a hard stare over his harsh bluntness, but the butcher was unmoved by his son's angry eyes. Still with crossed arms, he stared down at Laura's shivering form until he spoke again," There is a way if you're ready to risk it."

She was so lost her in depressed thoughts that she didn't hear him first. "What?"

"But I want to be sure on one thing. Is that man...human?"

"Of course he's human!" Laura stared angrily at him, "He is just tall and...different. He would never harm anyone and whatever you had heard from these old, brainless, gossiping hags downstairs are all lies."

"Then here is the plan."

When the butcher had said he had a plan to free John, Laura remembered for the first time in ages that there might be some good people left in this world. That even though they are minority, they would help, but she started to doubt again after hearing his plan, she was grateful that she was near the bed, because she wasn't prepared for the sudden rush of emotions that overflowed her body as she heard it.

Her face turned white, wondered if he was kidding or not, because it was too risky and mostly too dangerous to even be considered.

Adrian looked annoyed at first, wishing it was him who had formed some kind of plan, but hearing the details, he went pale as well.

Her fingertips touched briefly the place on her cheek where the glass had cut through. It still hurt, but it was nothing compaired to the turmoil she was feeling inside. After a minute, Laura composed herself and spoke, her voice shaking. "But John would think...Oh god, that moment when he thinks that he is going to...No, it`s not going to work. It's impossible, too risky."

"Risky yes, but it might work, I have heard from the best man and I'm trusting with my source."

"We have no choice haven't we?"

The butcher shook his head, "This is the only plan I am afraid, but I need to know some details about him if this is going to work. If you wish to have Bovary's in this mess, write a letter and give it to me. I know Esther, she's a tough woman and she's always demands proof."

Still pale and horrified, Laura nodded and with a piece of old paper, she wrote down and gave him the necessary details. Heaving heavily in her heart, she prayed that John will not think, during the last minutes before the plan sets in, that she had betrayed him.
Creature and the Maiden chapter 30

And heeerreee it is! The next chapter of Creature and the Maiden. My biggest apology! My school and private life needs to come first and there are my other stories that needs attention. I`m starting to see more and more Frankestein fans out there. Yay! :D Probably thanks to "Penny Dreadful" series, I Frankenstein and Danny Boyle Frankenstein (I had the luck to see it in our local cinema in my hometown. Wow! The show was fantastic!)

Thank you out there who review or add my story to your favorites. I really appreciate it!

Thank you "Gerrek Goodwin" for your very inspiring text of John feelings and for being one of my most loyal and greatest fans.

And I want to Thank you (And a lot of kisses and hugs.) to "YGP" for your great support and never ending patient correcting my grammar and tenses mistakes

Thank you!

Church of Bones by eitherangel
Church of Bones
"Humans' skulls had always been a great fascination for scientists, artists and religious purposes for centuries. Lord Byron drank his wine through a skull while he wrote his poetry. Damien Hirst created "For the Love of God", a platinum cast of an human skull encrusted with 8,601 flawless diamonds- worth today a shameless 100 million dollars, or as a symbol for Hamlet's melancholic phrase; "To be or not to be, that is the question."

A small drawing inspired from chapter 19 "Church of Bones", from my fanstory "The Nightmare Catcher. " 

Made in watercolor and ink.
The Nightmare Catcher chapter 20.

"My death will probably be caused by me being sarcastic at the wrong time." -Carrie Reilly

Carrie made a large sigh as the brush made the last touch on the cold wall in front of her and backed away to see the result.
Her back ached after standing too long and her arms almost numb after holding it up. Time passed quickly in the underground when no sun or moon could show what the time it was to take a break or eat. Without interruption and having the whole room for herself, Carrie could spent hours and hours just drawing, sketching, painting without thinking of the time.

But it was harder she thought it would be.

Her eyes slightly burned of tiredness as she compared the drawing she had done on the paper with the big, still unfinished mural painting. The idea she first had in her head, translated onto a piece of paper, then to the big wall wasn't what she imaged to be. She had idea of a garden, but the first draft on the wall felt wrong and then she got other ideas, to her frustrations she had to restart all over again.

Carrie shook her head over it then tossed the brush and palette onto the floor in exhaustion. Unfortunately, the paint splattered over her skirt, covering the already dirty fabric and the paper that was covering the stone floor.

"Great..." She muttered as she tried to wipe the paint off with a towel, then gathering her things and packed up for tonight. Carrie made a quick look over to the wall again displeased with it, but her body, especially her back needed rest.
Walking back up to the living world, Carrie wondered if Mr. Masper was up there too waiting for her again. During the past two weeks, Carrie woke every morning with the small alarm clock Leila had given her. Not the usual clock with the numbers 1-24 or I-XII, but instead strange signs Carrie had never seen before, but it had the same function like a clock, which means ringing out loud, breaking Carries beauty sleep. Sh get threw it on the ground to shut it up. After eating breakfast with Dr. Lothario and Leila, she took her bag and headed out to the graveyard.
She learned which road were safest, bushes and trees she could hide behind if she met someone on the way and learned to be quite, quick and not stray away from the road.
Sometimes, Mr. Masper meet her at the end of the bridge and he accompanied Carrie to the church, but often enough she walked on her own and thanks to Mr. Masper`s small gift, she didn't need to worry about getting get her head chopped off by the giants.
She walked up from the cellar and moved into the big chapel, Carrie quickly noticed in the corner of the room, sitting and not unsurprisingly for Carrie, the mysterious Mr. Masper, on one of the benches, reading a book. Carrie and Leila have started to get less suspicious that Mr. Masper wasn't a serial killer, rapist, insane enough to be a threat, but unfortunately, Mr. Masper seemed to have a sixth sense to come when she least wanted him.

Sighing, she approached him, "Hello again Mr. Masper."

"Hello Lori, you look tired, been down in the crypt too long again?" Mr. Masper said, still reading his book without looking up.

"I'm fine. Just tend to be too caught up in my own world to realize what's going on around me."

"I understand," Mr. Masper murmured as he closed the book. "So easily seduced in letting your mind travel far away from this world. You must despise being here."

Carrie glowers at him and moves away. "It's not all that bad. I'm still alive aren't I? And you got something to lay your hopes on sometimes," she pointed her thumb turned towards the altar.

"You never thought that citizens of Gorgosseum would need a house to pray," Mr. Masper wondered.
Carrie raised an eyebrow, and gave him a small smirk, "I`m almost atheist, but I was surprised that you believe in something-" She looked up at the chandelier over her head "holy?" "

"It doesn't matter what religion you alone believe in. To have a sacred ground to mourn and pray for your ancestors or at least to have one minute of peace is something every person needs. Don't you think?"

"I`m an open book for new discoveries," Carrie replied shortly before starting to walk towards the exit. "Goodbye Mr. Masper." In a quick movement before Carrie could open the door, Mr. Masper moved in front of her and stopped her from going out. "Are you hungry?"

For a moment she was silent, her eyes narrowed at him, "Why?"

"You`ve been down in the room for almost eight hours."

"Yes, but I'm not exactly on the brink starving to death. I had a sandwich."

"It's on the house."

Carrie snorted. "If you were giving me a hint I'm so thin it's not my fault, but alright. Let's take a snack before I faint."

Hearing her answer Mr. Masper responded with triumphed smile on his thin lips, pleased that he finally had hooked her.

"`Let's see…" Carrie eyed the menu closely. "I take the Triggerfish with smashed potatoes, cheese, and carrots, a bowl with the spicy noodles with that strange seaweed in it, two pieces of those shark ribs and for dessert I take that green Ice cream with Smurion fruit together with chocolate, vanilla and lemon syrup, and a chocolate biscuit."

"Are you really going to eat all that up?" Mr. Masper said with disbelief. "Have you ever tasted Triggerfish before?"

"Nope, but I like to taste something new and special." Carrie smiled at him as she gave the waiter her order.

"And expensive." Mr. Masper muttered as he rolls his finger around on his menu, "I`ll just take the tonight's special."

The place they were in wasn't a five star restaurant, but it was decent enough to give them a clean table in one of the corners, good service, especially in not throwing Mr Masper out because of his working clothes and Carries paint-covered clothes.
After ordering, the waiter came back with two wine glasses, put them on the counter, and poured the wine for them. After he was finished and left the bottle on the table, Carrie took it, sniffed, sipped it, and made a small grimace over the sour liquid.
Seeing her expression, Mr. Masper chuckled as he moved his glass to his lips.

"You haven't taste wine before?"

"I have, but never this bitter before," Carrie said grimacing and placed the glass down.

"The wine is pretty strong so be careful, your health must be very fragile and vulnerable when you still have a cold," Mr. Masper said when Carrie hadn't removed her scarf from her throat.

"Yes," She replied and tried to avoid the temptation not to move her hands up to scratch under it."

"Then a little bit of food will do you good and add more fat on your bones. If I haven't picked you up, you probably would probably have fainted. "
Crossing her arms, Carrie grumbles, "I'm slim, not anorexic and I never forget to eat."
"Snacks doesn't count which you probably got tons laying on the floor in the crypt right now. But never mind, would you like to share some of the progress on your drawings you're doing in the room?"

"I knew you would ask, but it a secret, but I got other things to share." Carrie moved down, picked up from her bag one of her sketchbooks, and handed over to Mr. Masper.

Mr Masper flipped through it, it showed mostly rough sketches of streets, the cemetery, people of different species, and other things.


"It's nothing."

"You`re so "humble"," Mr Masper smiled at her but as he turned another page his smile froze as he accidently caught a unfinished drawing of a man with stitched lips. Mr Maspers hands, holding the book hardened and his eye pupils widened. He got so lost in starring at the drawing that it isn't until Carrie said something to him and waved her hand in front of his face he came back to reality.

"As always, they're pretty good." He murmured and made a small shudder as he gave the sketchbook back. "Especially this particular the man with the damaged lips."

"It's nothing," Carrie said as she put the book in the bag and placed it beside her on the floor.

"Just a disturbing image that needed to be removed from my mind."

"Disturbing? How come?"

"It's nothing. I just want to...put him or IT down so I won`t be bothered with it again. If you`re not blind then you can guess who it is."

"Christopher...Carrion," Mr Masper said carefully.

"The very man."

"Have you met him?" Carrie`s face looked tempted to make a grimace, her eyes darting around the restaurant as if searching for someone who might swoop in and rescue her from this conversation, but seeing no way out the sight, her shoulders drooped in defeat. "Once and that it's enough for me."

Mr. Masper gave her a short smile and was silent for a moment, then resting his arms on the table, he leaned forward and said slowly, "He's terrible and very dangerous man."

Carries eyes widened. "So you have met him?


"Did he threaten you?"


"Are you afraid of him?"

"I...respect him and his methods. Not someone to mock or play with and standing here tonight intact and alive, he must have showed some kind of pity over your foolishness or rather...stupidity."

Once she heard this, Carries laughed, "Stupidity!? Ha! He's kind of guy who will leave you to pay the bill, if I ever meet him again I will..."

She stopped laughing and paused, biting her lower lip as she thought of something, "Never mind, I just wish to keep a low profile and not make any mess for me or my uncle and Leila or else it will be Leila will have my head on a plate before I can go back home."

"Back home?"

"I won't stay here forever you know."

Hearing this "surprised" Mr. Masper clearly. "But you seemed to content living like here," He said with raised eyebrows.

"Well a little bit of sunrise or sundown now and then would be great, don't you think?"

"I don't travel a lot and I find the sun rather uncomfortable."
"But don't you feel depressed or sad that you living in an absolute midnight all the time?" Carrie wondered.
"Not at all and this is absolute midnight, but you really miss home?"

"Sometimes," she began, crafting the words slowly as they came out of her mouth. "Not really, but I suppose I never thought that this would be the way I'd spend my days, or nights here, that's all."

"What's are your dreams then?" he pressed on, ignoring her uneasy expression.
Carrie thought for a moment, "I want to be an artist."

"An artist, but you say that you don't like to display your work to people."

"I don't wish to show my paintings to people but art is what I live for. I feel like there's no purpose in my life, besides art."

"But the work you do for your uncle-"

"It's an entirely different matter between Illustration and Art." Carrie interrupted. "You illustrate from other people's wishes not yours. Art puts me in a place where I lose myself, completely."

Then she huffed and leaned back on the chair. "But we don't get what we wish for sir," She said and took a small bread piece lying on a breadbasket and started to chew on it.

"But you just showed me your book? How am I different?"
Carrie hunched down, rested her elbow on the table, and propped her chin in her hand, and looked up at Mr Masper, who was watching her intently.'

"Maybe, I don't know you but-," , Carrie said, still chewing on the bread, " When you looked through my other books I was furious, but now… I don't know. Maybe it's useless to hide it from you because you have seen it and….you don't mind it."

"You thought that I would think you drawings repulsive and you a maniac?"

"For the most of the part...yes."

"No Lori, I don't think you either a maniac or a psychopath. You wish to express something deep inside your heart or set if free from your brain. It felt good to do so sometimes, but is this you? " Mr. Masper wondered, his eyes behind the glasses now tense and the wrinkle between his eyebrows deepened. "Do you always feel happy when you`re making these drawings?
Carrie`s hand was resting in the middle of the table and, spurred by the opportunity, Mr. Masper`s hand moved and made a contact with it. His cold fingertips traced tenderly over Carrie`s knuckles and then touched the gold ring on her middle finger.

"Do you always think of the darkness with all these horrible creatures in it? The pain, the anxiety, the horrors and suffering? Is it always there? You wish to have them on your side always? Nothing else matters than them and only them?"

"Please don't play head-shrink with me," Carrie groaned, removing her eyes from his and pulled her hand back from his grasp, pretending his touch didn't happen. "I had enough of them and curiosity isn't any reason to go through this much effort. All this, to befriend a girl who could be your enemy."

"Or perhaps a friend," Mr. Masper says casually and picked up his glass and took a sip of the wine, focusing on that other than looking at Carrie. She stared at him a moment, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to find the hidden catch to all this small talk. "Why do you even care?"

Mr. Masper couldn't help but take deep sigh over the question, "Considering it was I who offered the job and you accepted it, might as well get to know each other a little better, right? I'm genuinely interested."

Hearing this, Carrie`s nose wrinkled up like she had seen something intensely disgusting. "Enough of flatteries and I don't want to talk about it."

"You've got a real talent, you should be proud of it."

"Hah, sure and stop flirting with me Mr. Masper." Carrie says roughly. "I`m not kind of girl who would fall for silly flatteries." Mr. Masper`s gray eyes graced a smirk, but before he could response to it, the waitress came with their food. After placing the plates down on the table, Carrie eyes went large and furrowed her eyebrows at her plate and then up at Mr, Masper`s now very bemused look.

"You said you like to taste something new."

Carrie glowered down at the fish, trying to hide her revulsion. The Triggerfish looked disgusting like it had been far too long in the oven and its bulged out eyes were still intact as it looked up at Carrie`s face.

"Well?" Mr. Masper tone was very expectant. "Taste it. It`s not poisonous."

"If it tastes like shit, you still wish to pay for it?" Carrie muttered before stabbed a piece, lifting it tentatively to her mouth before taking a bite. The meat was slimmy and little bit hard to shew but… She let out a heavy sigh before mumbling, "It's good."

Mr. Maspers couldn't help but to show his smugness over Carrie`s expression.

"It's pretty good," She said again and took another bite, "Very good actually!"

"I knew you would like it, but I don't recommend to eat the eyes, they are very salty," He said as the waitress came with his plate.

For a while they sat, ate, drank, chatted for what seemed like an hour. Like the fish, the rest of the menu looked disgusting, but after tasting it was actually quite good.

Everything was fine except for one thing; Carrie was beginning to sweat like crazy. Wearing a scarf inside wasn't the best of ideas, but it would be her death if Mr. Masper saw Snake and put the pieces together to who she really was, but the salvation came with the cold and surprisingly a very good-looking dessert that soothed her throat. Except for the former discussion about Carrie`s imagination, the never-ending night passed by with safe and meaningless topics. It was the closest thing Carrie had gotten to being friendly, (except Leila and Dr Lothario.) in eons, and the longest for Mr. Masper had gone without wanting to shove something sharp and pointy into another person's skull.

Before both of them knew it, the dinner was done and it was time to take Carrie back to the bookshop, but the walk home began to be a little bit tricky both for Carrie and Mr Masper.
Not only did Carrie have too much of the "bad" wine (which Carrie, unknowingly had taken a little bit too much to calm her nerves and didn't know how strong it was), which irritated Mr. Maspers's nostrils as he inhaled it, Carrie's feet even got occasionally entangled along the way. After the third stumble, that Carrie almost landed her face right on the hard stone under her. Mr. Masper picked her up, together with her bag, and carried Carrie in his arms.

"Hey! Put me down," Carrie started to struggle, blushing over this damsel in distress scenario, but she couldn`t do a little more than roll feebly as Mr. Maspers hands held her back and legs was
tight and steady.


"I don't want you to throw out the fish I paid," he said shortly, moving his head away far as possible from Carrie`s sour breath.

"I`m not drunk, my tolerance is like-," Carrie reached her other arm up over their heads. "-waaay up here. And what if I start to throw out the fish and that lovely dessert over your jacket?"

"I would toss you into the sea," Mr. Masper responded, the chilled tone hinting that he was tempted in doing so. "Except for that sour odor coming out from your mouth, I have this night been talking to a clever, smart, entertaining and the most suspicious and sarcastic woman I`ve ever meet. Don't let that wine spoil my opinion on you."

Carrie made an amused snort and crossed her arms, even it was a little bit difficult when Mr. Masper was holding her like a sulking child, "Oh, is that a compliment? Tell that to Leila so I won`t have another head aching lecture again from her."

After a couple of minutes of silence (a relief for Mr. Masper.), her eyes moved back to him, "As my relationship with you. Mr. Masper, is there someone or something in your life you desire for change?"

"Excuse me?"

A grin, almost wide enough to split Carrie`s face, she moved her right arm and placed it over Mr. Maspers shoulders in a way to prevent him from dropping her down. "Every night you dig, burn, and watching the church. You're always doing that; walking, guarding, digging. A steady, routine life, but are you content with it?"

She didn't know where it came from or why this question suddenly appeared, but perhaps there was a kind of defence mechanism after his criss-cross questions about her, or maybe it was the wine who spoke. For this, Mr. Masper glared at her "There`s nothing wrong with a stable and safe life."

"If you're happy with it, but you're not. I can see that."
The corners of Mr. Maspers lips lifted slightly. "You say I'm not happy, but you say that you don't need anybody, why did you accept eating dinner with me? Is your self-esteem that low that no one thinks you're a pleasant company to be with?"

"I'm not having low-esteem, I just think that everyone is so plain boring."

"You think I'm boring and not to be trusted?"
Carrie's blurred and slightly, dizzy head thought for a moment, "Boring you're not , but I don't know if I can hand over my life to you."

Mr. Masper nodded slightly. "You`re a smart girl, when you're not drunk, but let me tell you that I'm a grave-keeper, I know how to handle roses with sharp thorns."

"And I wish for your future a good luck," Carrie said and just as quickly as it had appeared, her lips turned into a giggle, quickly turned her head aside and hid it in Mr. Maspers shoulder. Mr. Masper might have imagined it, but he thought he managed to catch slightly red cheeks.

When they reach the bookshop, which was luckily dark and silent, Mr. Masper put Carrie down so she could picked up the key from her pockets and unlock the door.

"Need some help?"

"No, I`m fine," But to her embarrassment, Carrie`s hands shook slightly as she inserted it into the lock. She turned to face Mr. Masper and he was watched expectantly.
For another long moment, they stared at each other. A slight breeze stirred through them, and Carrie shivered. To break the silence, she awkwardly, craned her head upward to try and see any stars

"It's very bright outside tonight," she said, "It's too bad that the red clouds are so thick."

"You rarely see any stars here in Gorgosseum. The few places you can have any clear view is on the highest point of the towers," Mr. Masper said slowly, still looking at her.

"Well...when the Carrions have any "Open House" I will go and take a peak."

"I doubt it," Mr. Masper muttered. "Not with that hag around to pester my life."

"Guess so but hey," Carrie said, only half listening to what he just said and didn't catch the two words "my life", and gave him a small and very surprisingly, a tender smile on her lips, "living here in Gorgosseum isn't so bad after all."

Somehow and before Mr. Masper thought what he was doing, his hand moved up and touched her cheek. His fingers tracing over her skin lightly and almost close to her lips, but this time Carrie didn't back away. Standing still as he moved his fingers, Carrie only gave him a slight frown over his boldness, and yet his touch, despite being covered with a glove, made her blood rush in the veins and her heart beat faster, making her whole body shudder slightly.
Feeling the shuddering and seeing Carrie`s blushing cheeks, the intense spell broke and Mr. Masper face froze, his eyes widened as his mind finally detected what he was doing and moved his hand away like he got burned by her hot cheeks.

"Go home, girl," he scoffed.

"We are already home and I am not a little girl," Carrie shot back automatically, making her take one step back away from him, blushing.

Observing her silently, and then like a magician, he held right before Carrie`s eyes "Snake" in his hand.

"Yes, you are."
The Nightmare Catcher ch 20

Abarat 4: Kry Rising still not released yet. :( Pity! I want to know what is going to happen next and I cant wait another seven years like we did with Absolut Midnight. It`s hard to keep a big and steady fanbase when we only got three books to read, discuss and analyze. But I still holding my thumbs,  please dont let us wait anymore Mr. Barker! 

It`s been forever I last updated the Nightmare Catcher but here is the next chapter and I hope this will kill some time before we get the book!

I want to say thank you YGP for your great support and for your never ending patient correcting with my grammar, tenses mistakes. Thank you!

Creature of the Black Lagoon by eitherangel
Creature of the Black Lagoon
The intention was to draw a nasty Innsmouth creature from the novel "Shadow over Innsmouth" by H.P Lovecraft. Instead I created the famous creature from the Black Lagoon from the Universal Pictures. :P Oh well...
The Dunwich Horror- Wilburs twin brother by eitherangel
The Dunwich Horror- Wilburs twin brother
Based on one of H.P. Lovecraft's novels "The Dunwich Horror. 

We got the details of Wilburs twin-brothers appeariance but it was still a little bit hard to draw IT. 

I shouldnt feel pity over this monster, he slaughtered cows, killled people and tried to  open the gate for his father so he could take over the Universe. But still...sigh, I`m not very good to draw evil monsters. I only make them tragic and sad. :(
My name is eitherangel/Veronica, born and living in Sweden with a great passion in drawing and writing. 

As you can see in my gallery, there are many different styles and quality in my work. Everything is inspired by Classic, Fantasy, Gothic and Modern Art. 

   As a Founder to the group :iconfrankenstein-club: , I prefer to blog there about the latest news, contests and discussions in the relation to the novel "Frankenstein".

You`re warmly welcome to visit this Group anytime!

Any questions about me or my art you`re very welcome to send me a note or a message.

Best wishes eitherangel!
  • Mood: Joy
  • Reading: Frankenstein
  • Watching: Once upon a time
  • Playing: Slender

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E-Ocasio Featured By Owner Jul 13, 2015   Artist
Thanks for visiting my page, have a llama badge. :aww:
katherinebolan Featured By Owner Feb 5, 2015   Digital Artist
Thank you so much for the fav!
deviantwin15 Featured By Owner Edited Dec 21, 2014
Helt underbara målningar! Är det olja eller akryl? :)
eitherangel Featured By Owner Dec 23, 2014
de är kombination. Några av målningarna som jag gjorde under 2007-2010 är målade med olja. De senaste är akvarell och torrpastell och när jag fick min digitala ritplatta har jag experimenterat med digitial art. Tack så mycket å ha en riktigt God Jul. :)
deviantwin15 Featured By Owner Dec 23, 2014
WOW! Du har en helt underbar stil och vilket mångfald av talang du har! Och god jul du med :)
saphir93 Featured By Owner Jun 1, 2014   Traditional Artist
thanks! :D glad you like it! You are welcome! :)
HellraiserFreak Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Hi, sweety. Just poping up to say Hi. Long time no see. How you're doing?
Ka-ren Featured By Owner Dec 28, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you for the fav )
ChaoticYume Featured By Owner Nov 18, 2013   General Artist
Thank you so much for the fav and the watch! X3
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