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
showed first 75 words of 869 total
showed last 75 words of 869 total
eventually wiped all joy out of its creator's life. The monster, as birth, wanted nothing more than to be satisfied and loved. Yet, after all revenge had been played out, the creature felt a sense of fulfillment in accordance to its creator's misery: "I am satisfied, miserable wretch! You have determined to live, and I am satisfied"(196), and with its revenge complete is "soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance"(215).