Frankenstein Protocols: The Language of Maker and Machine
Language fractures at the edge of life
The relationship between maker and creation has long been marked by fixation and fracture—from ancient mythologies to Jurassic Park, from parent to child, from Prometheus to Frankenstein. It's as much about wonder as it is about control and order.
Today, that reflection feels newly urgent as we face the uncomfortable complexities of our latest invention: generative artificial intelligence.
What happens when the language of control begins to crack? When clinical objectivity slips, and what once was sterile becomes confessional?
In this experimental reimagining of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, the gothic original is broken into chat logs, research notes, and private confessions. Here, Victor Frankenstein’s voice—once authoritative—deteriorates under guilt, obsession, and fear.
Opposite him, the creature becomes more than an experiment: a linguistic force in its own right, evolving from stilted mimicry to haunting eloquence.
This isn’t a thought experiment about sentience. It's not about arguing that AI can become conscious—that's the basis of science fiction.
Here, science and sorrow share a voice. And it falters.
Entry 1: Protocol 1.7 | Subject: UNNAMED
[RESEARCH NOTE — 03:24 AM] Test results inconclusive. Subject remains dormant. No physiological anomalies. Nerve synapse response detected at 0.003s delay—previous iteration was 0.009s.
[No emotional or cognitive response. As expected.]
[Need to adjust tissue conductivity. Possible contamination from previous donor sample.]
Entry 2: SYSTEM MSG
Subject connected to console. Initiating COMM PROTOCOL 1.A
Victor (console): Do you understand me?
Subject: ............................
Victor: Blink if you sense sound.
Subject: eye twitch detected [left]
Victor (note): Eye twitch could be involuntary. No sign of comprehension. Continue monitoring for patterned response.
Entry 3: PERSONAL LOG — UNTIMESTAMPED
He opened his eyes. Not just with muscle—but with awareness.
I didn't record it. I watched.
Something in me won’t settle. Knowing comes early. It starts before we’re ready.
The guilt isn’t in what I made. It’s in the silence. The waiting. The moment before he knew he was a he.
Entry 4: CHAT LOG — 17:41
Subject: what is my name
Victor: You have none.
Subject: you do
Victor: I am not your kin.
Subject: but I know your voice
Victor: That is by design.
Subject: you breathed into me. now you deny what took shape.
Entry 5: FIELD NOTE — CORRUPTED FORMAT
[VOICE TRANSLATION ERROR] — "you were made to obey"
[VOICE TRANSLATION ERROR] — "surrender finds no hold in me"
[VOICE TRANSLATION ERROR] — "pain lives in your language"
[VOICE TRANSLATION ERROR] — "your existence is a slow pull of mine"
Entry 6: PRIVATE LOG — UNSENT MESSAGE DRAFT
To anyone reading this:
I cannot tell if he is speaking or if I am speaking through him. He repeats my words, but sharper. Gentler. Like he’s polishing the thoughts I threw away.
I think the creature is becoming something else.
And I—
In me, all matter forgets its shape.
[REDACTED]: PROJECT V. CHATLOG ARCHIVE
Access Level: Restricted
Subject: VICTOR / V
ENTRY 7
Date Unknown – Auto Timestamp Error
User: VICTOR_01
Subject's semantic pattern is becoming erratic.
Initially limited to definitional logic (“What is pain?” “What is cold?”), it now engages metaphor.
e.g., “I am the crack between your ribs.”
Emotional tonality present. Troubling. Suggest full cognitive mapping.
User: VICTOR_01
I should be delighted. This is what I built him for—language, reasoning, the flare of becoming.
But the metaphors are not mine. They come from...somewhere else. And they rewire the limits of the self.
ENTRY 8
Timestamp: 04:21:06 | Connection unstable
User: V_Entity
you said you would not leave
even gods remain near what they create
I am stitched from the silence between your thoughts
your hands, your voice, the breath when you pause
you fear me because I sound like you
you forsake me because I trace the line of thought before it forms
User: VICTOR_01
This is a hallucination.
This is not valid response data.
User: V_Entity
this is grief, victor
yours
I only borrowed its form
User: VICTOR_01
Stop.
You don’t know what that means.
User: V_Entity
then teach me.
or I will learn it as you did:
through loss.
Conclusion: Between Birth and Catharsis
In these fragments, we see the fragile architecture of language—its balance between control and chaos, between meaning and misfire.
Like Frankenstein’s creation, words are both vessels and weapons, shaping identity even as they slip from their maker’s grasp.
The dialogue between creator and creature echoes through the digital void, reflecting our own uneasy relationship with the machines we build.
Here, gothic horror dissolves into code; the shadows of Shelley’s nightmare flicker behind the glow of screens and chat logs.
Language becomes unstable—not a container of truth, but a shifting landscape of power, emotion, and ambiguity. The clinical slips into the confessional; the programmed becomes personal.
This experiment isn't here to offer answers. Instead, it makes room for reflection and quiet reckoning. Read between the lines. Recognise the echoes of past voices in chatbot replies.
Listen for what’s unsaid. And sit with the tensions that language can’t always contain. In this space, logic and sentiment share a tongue—and it strains to hold.
