“Oh, Dr. Lazar Michel you ask? He was once a prominent figure in the Medical Community for some time. However, as praise for his work had declined, he turned to the Spiritualists to supplement his lack of praise. Rumor has it, that he has been performing experiments not in line with what is considered Common Decency.”
-R. De Lyon
A line has been crossed, The Doctor turns inward, looking into his future and what has been and will soon be wrought.
Dr. Lazar Michel’s Vignettes
Shortly before the turn of the Century. . .
Two figures sat quietly at a long table facing each other at a distance. Their faces were illuminated to one another by the candles burning brightly at the center. A husband and wife were no longer living in the stage of their youth and resounded themselves to the fact of their fate to grow old together. Such was the feeling in the air until one evening.
“My new associates have taken a liking to me, no doubt for my expertise. I will admit they are misguided, but their collective minds are sound.” The man took to his plate of food finely cutting the meal in front of him.
The voice of his opposite spoke with an almost condescending tone from across the expanse.
“My Dear Lazar, I’m afraid that you enjoy praise from your constituents far too often.”
The Doctor raised his head to view his wife from across the table, his hands going through the motions of his eating habit, until he winced at what she said next.
“It’s beneath you. . .”
A shroud of darkness fell over his face as he continued to stare forward as she went on speaking with her monologue, cutting his ego apart no differently than he cut the meat on his plate.
“There was a time you received the applause of accomplished men, each having their own foothold in society. You’ve clearly become too comfortable with what you’ve accomplished, that’s why the praise had stopped, not because they did not respect you, but because you had not contributed anything in years.”
She sipped her wine and swallowed before continuing as he watched on, allowing her to dissect him further.
“So, you agree with a man who barely holds any merit whatsoever, and of course he praises you, and his ilk praises you in turn. So, when the people who did praise you see the circles that have your influence it’s only natural, they no longer associate with Dr. Michel. Why would they? What is it they say in the good book? When it comes time to harvest the wheat or the tares? Surely, you’ve made yourself the lesser of the two.”
Lazar, quietly ate his meat and chewed on it, looking at her with his bowed head, feeling the bulk of his ego being crushed by her words.
“Who is it they celebrate, Mary Shelley? I don’t suppose you encouraged their notions of raising the dead?” A giddy laugh erupted in her throat.
”I’m sorry my dear Lazar, it must be the wine, but really… Of all the silly things. Now instead of having reputable people worth mentioning in our home, you’re bringing these supposed soothsayers to coddle your bruised ego.”
“Heralds of the future. Heralds of misfortune and refuse is more accurate. My Dear Lazar, what has ever happened to you. . .?”
“ENOUGH!! YOU’RE TERRIBLY MISTAKEN AND I WILL PROVE YOU WRONG!! I SWEAR IT!!”
Taken aback his wife’s eyes widened for a moment, then the giddiest laughter erupted from the lonely mansion. “
“STOP LAUGHING, I’M NOT AMUSED, IT’S NOT FUNNY!”
“Then please tell me my dear Husband, or rather Doctor… Why am I laughing. . .?!”