A Man's World
Chapter 1: In the Beginning
by terre nymphe
as aforementioned in the summary, this piece borrows both characters and storylines from Gundam Wing, Sailor Moon, and Dark Angel. I do not own, nor have any claim to, any of these shows and/or comics. I apologize for any perceived plagiarism and assure readers that it is not intentional.
His forehead dripping in sweat, Dr. Smith noticed the woman's screams had stopped. A groaning flat-line from the heart monitor now echoed through the warehouse's abandoned hallways. For a spilt-second, Smith contemplated reaching for the defibrillator paddles, but a warning cough from the mid-wife stayed his hand. The patient was of no consequence; only the child she carried had any value. Smith's fleeting feelings of heroism were gone, and he turned the monitor off. Smith cut the umbilical cord and gently placed the newborn in the mid-wife's portly arms. Two inconspicuous men in dark clothes came into the room and carted off the dead woman. Humanity hedged at Smith, but his promised payday proved to be more important to him. His orders were to attend to the baby.
Making peace with his situation, he noticed something. The room was quiet– too quiet. In a panic, Smith grabbed the child, hoping, more than he had ever hoped before, that it was not dead. Two icy, blue eyes stared up at him. And though not usually a religious man, he let loose a relieved shudder and thanked the gods that the child was alive. The mid-wife took the baby from him. She too was relieved. She could not collect her fee unless the baby was alive and totally healthy. She checked its vital signs. Heart rate was normal, respiration was good, and the child's skin was a glowing pink, a perfect specimen. She wrapped the newborn in a thin, sterile blanket and waited for the doctor.
Meanwhile, the "good" doctor cleaned the crude delivery room; he could not leave behind any indication of the past few hours. He sterilized his equipment, packed it all into a cardboard box, and washed off the makeshift delivery table. The amount and overpowering odor of the blood had shocked the seasoned doctor. He had to pause often to avoid the nausea that threatened to overtake him. Impatient for her money, the mid-wife continued to nag at Smith to hurry. Finally, satisfied he'd left behind no evidence; Smith grabbed his box of equipment and followed the woman out of the room.
They crept silently through the crumbling building, around a maze of dimly lit hallways, and out the well-hidden service exit. They stepped into a dark alleyway and then slowly made their way to the nondescript black van that was parked at the compound's gated exit. Smith deposited the box in the back of the van then walked around to the side. The sliding door opened and a pair of hands stretched from the van's dark interior. The mid-wife placed her small bundle in the waiting arms and watched as they retreated into the darkness. Hands still extended, Dr. Smith and the mid-wife waited for their own, not quite so small, bundles. Instead, two muffled sounds reverberated through the alley as Smith and the mid-wife fell to the ground, dead. The van soundlessly escaped through the gates, down the street, and into the city where it disappeared among the decrepit buildings.