The ship Captain, Robert Walton, had picked up a sickly man on his deathbed in the middle of the Arctic. The handsome stranger had been going on and on about a creature that he had created, and something about his entire family dying. He was more than likely hysterical from his illness.

A few days in, you had been instructed to take care of him for the day because the other crew members were busy. You, the only woman in board, a very attractive woman nonetheless.

You entered the room to see Victor lying in bed, his skin pale and clammy, his thick black wavy locks stuck to his freezing face. He was curled up on his side, gripping the blanket as tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I will die… I can feel it.”