The Saints of Donovan
Chapter 1: Dark Creations
"Tis such a calm an' eerie fog today father…? Bad omen do you think?" a fat balding man turned to the dark robed priest at his right as they walked side by side down the stone laden path of Murntown.
"Aye…God watches those who believe, but keep yer wits." The priest said sullenly, his eyes narrowing as the pair approached a shabby old cottage. The fat man knocked, only to have the door answered by an equally fat woman.
"Good day to you Doctor Murphy, Father Donnellson…this way." The woman led the two men through the simply furnished house and into a small bedroom in the back. When they entered their eyes fell upon a pale pregnant woman, her eyes half open and her hair tumbling down her shoulders into black puddles on the bed. Her hair ended in snake like tendrils on the floor, making them have a freakish optical illusion.
"Hello doctor…" she panted through a cold sweat.
"Miss Larien Silimaurë Father…" Murphy said, grabbing a stool and sitting in front of his patient on the bed.
"Pleasure Miss Silimaurë…" the father outstretched his hand, but the woman did not accept it, looking at his hand as if it were a filthy doll. Her eyes rolled over from the father to her doctor; an awkward smile on her face.
"Doctor…her contractions are nearly a minute apart…" the plump woman said from the doorway. The doctor nodded.
"Father Donnellson…." The woman spoke suddenly, the priest shaking as her ice cold eyes bore into him. "I asked you here for a reason…I need you to take my son from me when he's born." She said monotonously, rubbing her fully pregnant stomach. The Father grabbed a chair and sat it next to the bed, looking at Murphy uncomfortably.
"Larien, lie down dear…you're going into labor now." The doctor said. Larien did so, with blank expression, and turned to the father again.
"Father, promise me you'll take my son to your orphanage." Larien said seriously.
"Why do you want me to take care of your son, child…?" the father asked. Why would a woman that wouldn't even shake the hand of a priest in respectful recognition want to forfeit her child to him?
"I need to know that my son will be taken care of…" Larien said, her face contorting in pain as the plump nurse maid dabbed her forehead with a wet rag. Father Donnellson was baffled, and stared at the woman as if she were mad. "…I won't survive this monster's birth." She spat spitefully, her breath hastening.
"Doctor…is she of good health?" the father asked anxiously, trying to take Larien's hand. She screamed and yanked it away, the father jumping away from her.
"Yes, she's in perfect health!" Murphy croaked, his gloved hands resting on her knees as he examined the womb.
"No! Listen to me!" Larien snarled, taking the priest by the collar with a firm fist, "I know that I will not live! I want my son to be taken care of!"
"H-has he no father…?" the priest quaked, Larien's hold on him still strong. He grabbed her arm, trying to gently pull her hand from his collar. Her skin was freezing to the touch.
"No…" Larien spat, releasing Donnellson and falling back into her pillows. The priest stared at Larien with pity as she started to holler in agony, her nurse maid coaching her through the labor pains. He tried to take her flailing hand again, to pray with her, but this time she used it to slap him. He reeled to the side and wiped his tender bleeding lip, his eyes wide at her stubbornness.
"My God…" doctor Murphy murmured, frantically picking up towels from off the floor and shoving them under Larien. Larien continued to scream in pain, her face sallow and pale. Father Donnellson peered over her knees, and found to his ultimate horror a spreading pool of dark blood.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph…" he murmured, falling back into his chair, holding his handkerchief and crucifix to his face. The blood was pooling out of her body and onto the floor in inky rivulets.
"Push my lady, PUSH!" the maid cried, grasping Larien's left hand. Shivers cascaded down the priest's back as he gazed upon a hideous skull and serpent, shining ebony on Larien's forearm. So he did the only thing he knew to do in such a situation; pray.
"FATHER!" Larien screamed, her teeth clenched as she pushed. His eyes fell upon her frantic face, the smell of impendent death dripping down her face in streams of sweat.
"She won't stop bleeding! Make her stop bleeding doctor!" the nurse cried.
"I'm trying! She was just fine…" Murphy voice quivered.
"Father, my son!" Larien cried, her breathing erratic as she continued to push. Her eyes started to roll back in her head.
"Yes?" Donnellson asked hastily, placing a hand on her forehead. She tried to bat his hand away but she hadn't the strength to.
"My…my son …name him Donovan…" she whispered, giving one final push.
"He's out!" Murphy cried, spanking the blood covered baby, and handing to the nurse maid as it started to cry. He returned frantically to Larien, pulling out gauze and stitches and working like mad to save her. But it was too late.
"Dono…Donovan…" Larien murmured.
"Hush…child…it's over…" Donnellson cooed, stroking her cool brow, "Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done…" he murmured, holding her limp hand in his as she faded into darkness.