Like A Phoenix

by Snowshoe Cat

I am so sorry that I havn't updated Presidential Abuse. ; It just isn't the right time for me to write that one yet. So I have here a oneshot mpreg for you. It's gory and nasty, has some of the torture aspects that Presidential Abuse has, but is different. Rating is T-M because of the subject. (Really, I just wrote this for my lovely girlfriend, but It's long enough to post.)

Al rolled onto his side, clutching his pillow tightly over his face to muffle screaming. He was alone, intentionally alone. He didn't want anyone there. It was too personal and his own mistake. He yowled, feeling his body contract. His internal organs were squeezed and pulled awkwardly. It felt like they were ripping. He clawed at the sheet like he was trying to run away from the pain. The pain relaxed for a moment, but the break didn't last long. It was back in full force, tearing him apart again. He figured that he might as well have been right back where it all started, the pain was about the same. But unlike before, he was completely alone. And it was from inside him.

He had a flashback to the time it happened. He was back in the basement, chained around the neck, wrist, and ankles, to the wall. His screams as he was beat and raped merely reverberated. The laughter of his captor seemed to hang in the air around him thick enough to smother him and any flame of hope he possessed. It was just a week, but had seemed like a year to him. How he was set free, not as being set free, but being dumped on the side of the road like garbage and left to die in the desert. His twin was the only one that cared. Those he thought he could trust, he could not. After it happened Al had cut everyone effectively out of his life.

He was trembling, from the fear as well as muscle exertion. He looked down to see if his effort was yielding any result. There was a lot of blood and various other fluids, but not much else. He groaned as another contraction hit him, bearing down hard. He clenched his teeth, nearly cracking them. Al shrieked as he felt something breaking inside him to make room for the baby.

He changed positions so that he was up and squatting, allowing for gravity to help him. He could feel his body shaking with exhaustion. The pain was overwhelming. So much so that he feared he would black out. But that sweet relief never came. He stayed upright, every slight movement of the baby or himself pushed against whatever broke. He couldn't even scream, he held his mouth open silently drawing in air. The thing pushed farther down and he was torn. The baby had made its own way out. Once the large head had ripped its way to freedom, the rest followed more smoothly lubricated with blood. It fell onto the floor and began gasping for breath. The placenta stayed wedged in Al, but he couldn't do any more. He collapsed in a heap next to the now screeching child. He tried to grab it and pull it nearer to himself, but was physically unable to. He closed his eyes and succumb to the darkness swirling around him.

"Alfred? Hey, Alfred? Where are you?" called in Mathew. It had been a week since his twin had answered his calls, and last time they spoke Al had seemed ill. He was so worried that something bad had happened he had to come and check on him. Al hadn't let anyone see him in nearly a year. Ever since he had been taken and abused by his boss, nothing was the same. But it had gone on for too long, Matt couldn't go on any longer without seeing him. He closed the door behind himself, still calling out for his twin. He decided that Al's room would be the best place to start, but as he drew closer ice formed in the pit of his stomach. The scent of blood was heavy in the air. He began walking faster. The scent grew stronger the closer he got. He began running and skid to a halt at the doorway, looking in. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. His twin looked like a skeleton. There was no muscle, no fat, just skin and bones. Blood had soaked into his ashen skin, warping it.

Most terrifying of all, though, was that a baby was in a pool of blood close to him. It was nearly the same condition. It was still attached to Al. The placenta had never been delivered. And it was still alive. Barely, but Matt could see its tiny chest twitch. He ran over and grabbed it. It jerked. He pulled out a pocket knife and cut the baby's cord, separating it from his brother. He dropped the knife there, grabbed a few shirts out of Al's dresser. He used one to wipe blood off of the baby. The blood was cold. He wondered how the baby was even alive, but then remembered that they were tougher than humans. A human infant would have died, but as a country it would take longer. He wrapped it in a clean shirt, then left the house. He would return later to burn it down. It was only fitting.