She slept clutching her hollow belly, fingers curled in the sheets. Sweat soaked, tortured and blood splattered in her dreams. The snow came, skies heavy and gray, but there was no comfort in familiarity. Every night she waited for a the Woman to slip into her room and try and take what little life she had left. Claw out that empty womb, just to ( Read more... )

She doesn't have a choice, those first few weeks. She could drag herself out of the clinic and into the jungle, let herself waste away in the open heat, but that kind of slow torture didn't sound appealing after what she'd endured. She'd always pitied suicides, and she had no desire to join their ranks. She would wait, she would do what they told ( Read more... )

My baby. Finally inside me. No one can take him from me. No one can hurt him now…

No one. Blood. Warm pennies on her tongue. Slick and diseased, curling down her throat. Spitting, the woman's blood running down her chin, mixing with her own, mixing with saliva and bits of flesh, Sarah stumbles half blind down the hall. She doesn't feel pain now. ( Read more... )