Creative Writing: Mary Shelley's Frankenstein

“Then unexpectedly my hands came upon a doorway, where hung a portal of stone, rough with strange chiseling…” (Lovecraft, 100), etched deep into the doorway was a panel of glass, showing a beautiful creature, that I have never seen before, not in my dreams nor the books that I read while alone. Its bright, glassy, orbs stared into my own. I was entranced by this never-before-seen creature and reached out to touch its bumpy, intriguing flesh. It met me halfway. However, where I was expecting to feel my first touch of human skin, I felt only a flat smooth plane. I drew my hand back quickly, my face contorted in shock.
Strangely, the creature’s face similar to what I expected mine would be. Suspicious, I raised both of my hands, perpendicular to my body, and watched as
To my surprises, it opened slowly, with a loud creak and stumbled along the graveled path. Drunk with the wonder of seeing the things I thought I would have only seen in my dreams, I often tripped, and fell while wandering along the path. I sometimes left the visible road to tread across meadows, and splash through rivers.
I traveled for what must have been at least two hours before I reached what must have been my goal. An ivied castle loomed in front of me, surrounded by deep woods and a moat, sparkling with blue water that shone with the reflection of the highest towers and the moon.
Though the woods I could see open windows, filled with many oddly dressed people, speaking loudly and happily to one another. As I edged closer I could vaguely understand what they were saying, and I stepped into the low, open window into a room even brighter than the moon.
Instantly, all conversation extinguished, and with that so was my confidence. One by one mouths dropped open and the shrill sound of screams were ripped from every throat in the room.
“What is that!” one screamed in horror.
“Shield your eyes my son!” cried another, as she pulled her son