A heroin bum spins 3 urban legends to a reporter. Including two brothers who eat people's feces after bashing their heads in, a guy who cuts himself up for internet fame, and an Incel who uses his sperm and a microwave to create a monster.
A wager is made, a book of horror fiction is written. It becomes know as, "Frankenstein, or a Modern Prometheus", by Mary Shelley. Though what happens if fiction was fact? Can a soul be immortal. Is everlasting life worth such misery?
