20 March 2027
Saturday. Two years ago today I opened the laboratory on Lake Street. I have been waking the Subject every hour since. He has been going back to sleep every hour since. We have an understanding.
I celebrated by reading the case notes. Every group that has assisted me is in them: how long they took, how many hints they needed, whether the Subject opened his eyes before the storm moved on. The quickest are written up on a leaderboard, which the company keeps without consulting me. Some of these assistants are faster than I am. I have underlined their names in red. It is not a compliment.
I also read the reviews, which I should not have done. They praise the laboratory, the machinery and the people who run the evenings. Not one of them praises my genius. They praise my creature, constantly.
In the margin: I have read the reviews too. They say I am well made. I have never been so happy. I have copied out the nicest ones in my best handwriting and pinned them inside my sheet, where I can read them between storms.
— V. Frankenstein
