Collecting "Donations"

Every instinct told you to just stay where you were. However, with a name like Dr. Frankenstein… Well, there were options to be weighed here. “Let, uh…let’s get those “donations’.” 

You tried to keep an open mind. Maybe this is one of those Salvation Army type things! Maybe you and Ygor would be outside some shopping center, ringing bells and collecting loose change…?

“So. This is where you go to get…?” 

Adjusting your hold, you felt the weight of a particular piece of equipment in your hand, seeing your reflection in its broad side. “Is this a bone saw…?” When you looked up, you could only see a faint visage of your new friend disappearing into the fog. Well, would you rather be alone in a graveyard? Or with him?

Swallowing thickly, you weaved between headstones after that strange man, peering with suspicion over the pile of rusty instruments. Tall grasses snagged on your shoes, leading you to stumble along in a weird jig, shaking free from what you hoped was their snare. “So, you need these body parts for experiments? Like, medical experiments?”

Dropping all pretense, Ygor clamored down into the half-excavated plot, disappearing under the fog. “What’s the problem? They're dead! They don’t need them.” A grabby glove emerged and scrounged around for a crowbar among the pile of tools you sat next to the pit. 

A pair of orange goggles peeped up over the top of the grave. “Unless you want to donate…?” You really wanted to ask if he was joking, but before you could, they disappeared. The sharp, splintering of wet wood split through the cool night air. “I mean, the fresher the better-” Your friend let out a grunt of effort, propping the lid open. “But Ygor’s no murderer!” 

“There are a lot of things I would do for Victoria- I mean, Dr. Frankenstien! But…Ygor has morals!”

Thank god for that.

After a few minutes of stomach churning hacking, the thick net of darkness that cocooned you was cut by a harsh bolt of lamplight! Whipping your head around, you were suddenly face to face with a myriad of strangers- a myriad of stakes, crossbows, and just about every sharp implement you could conjure! That's it! This is what you get for aiding and abetting a grave robber! 

Shocked, your panicked attempt to take yourself out of the direct line of fire sent you scrambling to grip the earth behind you -until there was nothing to grip at all and you went tumbling backwards into the open pit of earth!

“Ah! Well, this is my assistant!” Unbothered by your disgusted flailing, he pulled you to stand by your shoulder, proudly showing you off. “Ygor has been promoted to manager! Right…?” Eyes wide, you were still dazed from, well- everything while the confused onlookers watched this hostage situation. 

Your new friend pulled you close enough to whisper in your ear through his teeth, “Remember! Ygor the only one who can fix your car…Or else, you stay in Darkmoor forever.” 

Gritting your teeth, you put on your best ‘I’m fine’ smile and stiffly nodded, keeping the facade up as they dispersed to another dark, out of earshot corner of the graveyard. Goddamn it. The benefit of the doubt you’d been affording this guy was seriously running dry. 

As you brooded, climbing up and out of the open grave to clumsily roll onto flat ground, Ygor chirped. “You have the bucket?” 

Sensing you didn’t know what he was talking about through your shocked silence, he explained like this was something as obvious as the color of the sky. “The bucket? For the organs…?” 

Oh god- was he serious? Shakily, you sighed in exasperation. “I’ll go get the bucket…” As you trudged away, you rolled your eyes. Yeah, you were gonna go get the bucket. Totally.

Through the dingey streets of sleet and brown yuck, you gazed off at the archway that welcomed you to Darkmoor; it was so close. You could leave like this, you know. You could make a break for it- away from this nightmare town. You’d never had to deal with evil doctors, or grave robbers, or buckets full of organs ever again!

Just as you crossed the street, a sharp chill trailed up your spine to the base of your neck. Was that dense shrub growling at you? Swallowing thickly, you didn't look at it. You couldn't. Razor sharp claws scraped against cobblestone. Whatever it was, it was readying itself. Suddenly, just out the corner of your eye, a blur of…something lunged at you, razor sharp fangs bared! 

Nerves already fried, your body made one of those quick twitch muscle movements in a desperate escape attempt to escape the pure, animal fear that gripped you!

What do You Do?