Page 14 of Adam, Mine

Thankfully, the spells most useful for his experimentation were a bit clearer. There was a tethering spell to hold a soul to a body and a spell for releasing a dormant soul, which perhaps referred to comatose revival. And a spell that appeared to call a random soul to an available vessel. Similar to a golem,* though it made clear to mention that the body must be available for implantation. So perhaps instead for the preservation of a beloved’s soul in a recently deceased or comatose body?

It worried him that all the incantations specified their design for a human subject, which could call to question the effectiveness on animal test subjects.

Finding someone who would volunteer to be involved with this seemed impossible. Victor could likely accomplish it only once—maybe twice. He had to be sure it was going to work.

And more, the thing that gave him pause, was a terrible sense of wrongness about this.

Victor had spent his whole life reading medical texts or alchemical texts, so he knew the way each writer engaged with the subject. But it was strange and slightly terrible to read a medical text by an alchemist in the field. The books he read at school were philosophical. This? There was a detachment to it: “the patient, the bodies, the hand, the mind.” Lives discussed like they were copper, ash, and lead.

It felt illicit to read, much less to practice.

He knew this would not be like his father’s work. The first time his hand touched another man with alchemical intent, he would be walking far from home.

But if he succeeded . . . Oh! If he succeeded!

Heretic

Classes went by in a blur; he barely listened these days. All he desired was to run back home and right into the lab. The only things he cared about were his little blue book, the butcher shop beneath his landlady’s house, and the ritual of lies to his landlady and fastidious cleaning that kept his work afloat.

He was getting close.

The practice was simple: he only had to recite the incantations while making skin to skin contact with a potential host. It didn’t appear to work on hosts that were completely well and not in need of whichever healing spell he was using. Even a child could manage such a thing.

Victor was able to suspend death untimely by a full ten minutes. Keep the small bodies breathing, hearts beating, blood pumping, and comatose before their flesh gave up the ghost. Was able to wait for eight minutes after full death and still achieve bodily reanimation.

He could wait for death, wait the length of time for him to eat an apple, then restart the body. Which would, of course, live for another bit before something pushed past his physical machinations to remind the body that it was indeed deceased.

But even that accomplishment was unheard of. And thrilling. Victor didn’t dare mention it to anyone at all—Mr. Sauer’s words of warning still echoing in his ears. But still, as he went to sleep every night, hands smarting from alcohol, eyes red from fumes, thoughts rushed through him.

Eight minutes was a thousand years when all you needed was three to stop gushing blood!

This suspension was enough for kinder men to do brilliant work. Even if Victor failed at this challenge and left his classmates behind in shame, he would still be important, still save lives.

That was all that mattered: he wouldn’t forget it.

Luscious

There was a month left before graduation.

Victor, confident and pleased with the results of his work, asked his landlady if he could plan an evening of company for the night after they were meant to depart university.

His landlady was overjoyed and arranged to be absent from the premises and intended to travel to join a cousin in a nearby town. She planned to leave two days before the event and return three days after its completion, which was lucky, as Victor was certain he would require time for cleanup.

He was comfortable ceasing his search for animal subjects. He had varied his spells of choice until he found one that created a lasting effect for an hour—long enough to impress anyone who came to witness.

Unfortunately, that incantation winded him for a day after using it, so he would have to be careful about how he spaced his trials. He wouldn’t want to drop to the floor in front of his classmates and not be able to accept a glass of champagne or a pat on the back. He should be more worried about that, but quite frankly, he didn’t have the time.

That besides, Victor needed to start human testing before his anxiety about it got the best of him. He was strong and fast enough now from his nightly hunts that he felt confident carrying a body. But it needed to be a small one or someone very slight. The thought of a child’s body made him feel ill, but he could work with a short woman or a very slender man. He also needed someone sick, who would benefit from treatment; he couldn’t just snatch someone random. Victor watched the hospitals closely.

On a windy Thursday, he got lucky.

There was a drunk slumped against the wall of the tavern. Flesh burned away from choosing drink over bread. Victor crouched beside him and put a finger to his pulse. It was rapid and his skin was hot. He likely wouldn’t make it through the night without intervention.

Victor stretched, then lifted the man from the ground. They stumbled together down the street, into the back door of his landlady’s house, and down the stairs into his lab. The man was mumbling, insensate, and his clothes were wet with urine. If he survived, Victor would find new clothes for him.

Victor guided him gently to the table, lifted his legs until he was lying flat.

“Please don’t remember this,” he murmured, and placed a soft wet cloth over the man’s mouth and nose until the anesthetic did its job. He secured the man’s arms, legs, and neck with leather straps before hooking him up to his many machines.