Birth and Re-birth.
*DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING APART FROM CHARACTERS NOT IN THE FILMS. ALL CHARACTERS AND SETTINGS ARE PROPERTY OF WES CRAVEN AND NEW LINE CINEMA*
(To avoid confusion, 'Sister Mary Helena' switches to 'Amanda' to show the change in her when the labour begins. So in flashbacks it will be 'Sister Mary Helena', in present it will be 'Amanda')
1942
The labour had lasted 42 long, seemingly endless hours. Now the end was in sight.
She wanted to believe the pain was cleansing her. Cleansing her from sin, providing her with enough absolution to receive God's good grace.
What she did believe was there was no pain in this world that could absolve her from the sin of bringing this abomination forth and allowing it to live.
Amanda gripped the shaky rails of her hospital bed, her knuckles white with the force which her hands grasped the cold metal. Her dark hair stuck to her face and neck, slicked there by layers of sweat caused by hour upon hour of excertion. The skin on her face was paper thin, her piercing blue eyes telling the misery she had endured since her ordeal had began last December.
Amanda's given name at the Convent was Sister Mary Helena. Her first post was at Springwoods notorious mental institution, Westin Hills.
Sister Mary Helena had enjoyed her position at Westin Hills, caring as best she could for the poor souls whos sanity had deserted them completely. Though she stayed away from 'The Tower', as it was known, as this was the part of the building which housed the truly insane, where the most sadistic and evil men were kept, crammed together like animals. It was here only the most experienced and hardend guards were permitted to carry out their duties.
Sadly it was in 'The Tower' that Sister Mary Helena would find herself trapped over the holiday period, having been sent to retrive a patient file carelessly left by a Doctor in a hurry.
Instead of joining her loved ones to celebrate the birth of our Lord and to partake in the seasonal events, Amanda had been forced to endure being brutalized over and over again at the hands of Westin Hills most evil and depraved inmates. Trapped inside 'The Tower' at Westin Hills, locked in by a security guard a little to eager to get home to his wife and children on Christmas Eve. So eager infact he had neglected to complete his rounds with the thorough care and attention he usually gave them. It was that same security guard who had come upon the horrific scene when Westin Hills reopened after the holidays.
Just in time she had been found, barely alive, and with child.
The child of a hundred maniacs.
The Sisters in the Convent had prevented her from aborting the child and a self-induced fast had only led to intravenous administration of fluids and vital nutrients to keep both mother and baby healthy and well. Through terror filled nights and catatonic days, Amanda despaired that they would never understand, never see reality til it was too late.
They didn't understand that it didn't feed on nutrients or anything else which kept other mortal bodies ticking over; no, it fed on fear. Her fear.
When night fell the life growing in her belly opened what could only be described as the gates of Hell itself.
Visions of children, ripped apart and violated in the most monsterous of ways. Their screams filling her mind, lingering long after the nightmares had ended. The nightmares always came to an end with the sight of her own hands covered and stained a bright crimson. The children had been slain by her own hand. A fitting ending, she thought, as it was her who was bringing this monster into the world.
'Suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid them not, for such is the kingdom of God'
Her screams of pain echoed through the abandoned G wing of Westin Hills, both the convent and at the medical staff determind to keep her rape and subsequent pregnancy a secret. The midwife had been brought in from out of town and it was Dr Parker, the chief of medicine, who would oversee the evenings events.
The woman on the bed writed in agony, her abdomen twisting and bulging in a grotesque manner. Beside her on the cold metal table lay trays of bloodied equipment. Had they been present in any other situation they would have been branded instruments of torture.
"Amanda, you do understand that the baby is in the breech position. It will be best to put you into an induced sleep for the remainder of your labour. The child will suffer no side effects and you will have no memory of the delivery itself or, thankfully, the trauma involved." Dr Parker stood with a hypodermic needle in his left hand, ready to administer the mixture of morphine and scopolamine, a mixture which would send his patient into a state known as 'twilight sleep'.
What Dr Parker didn't realise was that the forced sedation would push Amanda farther into her child's twisted mind and farther over the edge towards insanity.
Amanda lifted her pale and drawn face towards the Dr and whispered, "do it."
As the needle broke through her pale skin, Amanda winced and looked into the sympathetic eyes of the Midwife standing above her. The sterile white room swam in and out of focus as she lost her grip on conciousness and slipped slowly into a deep sleep.
It was a sleep from which she prayed that she would not wake up.