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There were shadows at the end,
there were shadows at the beginning.
There are shadows in the between.
There were shadows when you first met and they are here again when run.
“Sam.”
You hold The Baby tight, pulling it to your chest. All you can do to protect it from its fate.
“
Sam.
”
There’s no death nor is there new beginning, all that is left here is the road to follow, hoping there won’t be shadows on the way.
“Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam.”
In Eden there was The Snake. There was Eve. There was Adam, who failed to warn his wife about the forbidden fruit. Maybe it was his fault women were cursed by the fate of becoming femme fatale.
For Samson there was Delilah.
For Herodes his own niece.
But for you there’s him.
You would love to give him the baby, but you can’t. So instead you press to his chest and let his hands around you. You love the false safety his aura spreads. Maybe in another world, the world from before, you could be happy, but not now. Until The Bang there were only females to the task. Only they were necessary for life. Now the world is changed and all you can do is take it as it is. Laying in his arms, while silently refusing to give share The Duty. He is not evil and you are aware of it, but there’s no good either as he whispers flattering things in your ear. Before God you stood naked and before Him you shall too. You both know it and it’s only you who refuse to bend to your fate.
On The Edge of The Crater you see his face. You love it as it is. You love it the way it is, but the shadows behind him scare you. No. Not the shadows. The Death he spreads. It terrifies you. You are here to spread The Life. Just as Eve once was. Alas he is here to spread The Death. It is the task even the devil didn’t dare to commit. It’s the task of God himself.
He smiles and kisses your mouth, you can feel his tongue on your lips, so you move them without thinking. Maybe you are too shy or change your mind, as you should know better that let his close, so you don’t move your jaw. Let his tongue meet your closed teeth. He only smiles on you and continues the kiss. He explores every bit of you he can, you feel the tip of his tongue between your jaw and inner lip. He takes what he is given and doesn’t ask for more. He never does. Once he promised to keep you safe and so he did. But what is safety if it comes from the danger. What is safety if it has this price.
His fingers tangle your hair, it is long since someone touched you like this, but can’t do more than just appreciate the moment of care. So you let him caress your hair as he kisses you, and try not to think about where you are. Where. When. Who. It’s all so easy to forget. Think of what was and never will be. It feels nice, even as reckless it is.
Mother should never close her eyes.
How many of them had learned that already.
It reminded you of a folk story you heard as a child. A girls marries a lord and they are happy. But the moment she falls pregnant he leaves for the the wenches. She is ungrateful of his gift to her and when the child is born, she refuses to look in her son’s eyes. So the boy never cries and dies unloved. The Lord is angry and orders for his wife to be hanged from the caste wall, so everyone knows what a wife she was
Raven comes and pecks out her eyes. But the sin is too heavy for it to keep in the air and it falls on the ground where a cat eats it.
Not a year passes and the lord has a new wife. She too, is left alone the moment she bears a child. She is a good mother to her son, not minding the stories of her husband spending her dowry in brothels. She gives her son all her love, but before he reaches a half a year. She falls asleep by his side. Cat sneaks into the cradle and eats the newborn child. The Good Wife is then too, hanged from the castle wall.
A year later the cat as a litter. All the kittens are born blind. That year famine comes and there’s nothing the cat can do to save her children. Servants eat them all; she watches them as they cook her last child, right before it’s her own turn to feed the hunger of humanity.
The same year the Lord takes a new wife. She was a little girl and is send to exile, where she dies. She was s good mother. Alas, the Lord was promised a son.
The moral of the story is that being a mother is hard and you should always respect your husband, no matter how morally questionable he is and always give him what he asks for.
Too deep in your thoughts you barely notice his lips are not on yours anymore. That the head of his body has lowered down. Now his lips picked another, not a wench nor a whore. The child in your arms in now silent as the one of the tale. In its early age, it doesn’t really recognize one oral fixation from another and you watch him his tongue slides over its lips.
“No.”
It’s all you can say.
“No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. Please.”
He only smiles as you plead. Looking up on your face. There’s a drop of blood falling down his lip; it isn’t the first time you notice his fags, they are nothing that could be considered inhuman on his body, all natural and all too sharp. This time however they terrify you. His mouth covers your baby’s face, its mouth and face. He is cruel, but not enough to make the child suffer for your failure.
“Please.”
You try one more time and he only smiles wider.
There’s no scream as his teeth meet the child’s skin and it is torn from the meat. Blood covers its little face and his own. Gore stains you both. For him it is a paint of victory. For you a shame. It mix with your tears, falling across his face as you weep and bites off bits of your child, he takes his time, swallowing small pieces of meat. Never taking mouthful of blood, rather drink it with grace. You weep all the time, as he feeds and when he finishes, he kisses you with his bloody mouth.
He is now a demon and you know it. Demons don’t eat their children. Only gods do.