By: Joel Victor Frankenstein, as he huddled in the corner of his room, with only bed sheets to offer a hint of security, plagued himself with questions as to how he could create such a catastrophe. A being of immense proportions, Victor's life-long work, stood lingering over Victor's bed and the only thought repeating in the creator's mind was how wretched it is... " His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of pearly whiteness; but these luxuriance's only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same colour as the dun-white sockets in which they were