Because Hojo is a sick bastard but I love him so. I liked writing this because it seems to me that the farther along he gets with his experiments the more warped his perception becomes. He thinks so highly of himself and yet in truth, he would never amount to anything more than a lowley failure scientist.
He was a God.
There was blood on the floor.
Cries filled the damp air.
He was a Hero.
A new race.
A scientific breakthrough.
He was a Leader.
Classical music echoes in empty halls.
Electricity zaps and a stiff body jerks.
He was Success.
Light shines off the scalpel as a cold hand descends.
The cutting of flesh, and a soul left forgotten.
The scientist was here.
Ah... angst makes me happy.
Once again, writen for my Frankenstein English project, the scientist being Victor Frankenstein of course, and the poor specimen being The Monster cough Cloud/Vincent/Zack/Seph COUGH HONEST reviews would be much appreciated. Hate it? TELL ME! Loved it? TELL ME!