"It's only obvious the harlot's been opening her legs when you're asleep."

"Annika, how are you!"

"Negah, honey, how the fuck else is this supposed to happen—we're dead, remember?"

"Oliver, she's too genuine—you took her virginity; you have her inside, you do not need our council."

"Oh please," Annika spits out, "It's like you're so naïve to protect her."

"Negah's right," Joseph states, "Have you felt her leave the house physically? I for sure don't smell anything on her when she gets home." He pauses, "Her fear is legitimate. I know for a fact she loves Oliver enough to never double cross him like that."

"How can she be pregnant then?" Oliver demands, "I'm just now picking up on the hormones—"

"Well, she's now all human—we all found out at the same time. It's quite plausible. Her kind can do anything really."

"She's a Banshee," Annika states, "The daughter of death."

"But she's a fairy," Joseph interrupts, his voice harsh, "A banshee is a fairy. For Christ's sakes Annika how old are you? You're not the baby of this family anymore."

"She isn't a part of this family—"

"Enough," Oliver says, his word making the house ill. "She is a part of me; which means she is a part of us. Stop being so bitter, Annika."

"You're fucking joking right?" she laughs, "This is unbelievable. Oliver, you've been dead almost two thousand years! I am more than sure you're sperm is lifeless. SHE IS CHEATING ON YOU!"

"Don't you think I would have been able to feel that? Don't you thing I would have smelled that man on her skin regardless if she showered or not! Annika, shut the fuck up."

"This may seem impossible, sir, but, what do you propose?" Joseph inquires.

"I don't know…." Oliver sighs, "it isn't my decision in what she does with her body. Leave now."

They probably had business elsewhere anyway as I had just really woke up with all of that commotion. With all of this new stuff going on with my body, I could hear a lot better now so any really disturbance, even if through sound proof walls, I could hear.

My body was so tired now.

I dreamt of nothing but having my skin be translucent looking down at a being, who could now sense I was paying attention to it; so in movements, it communicated with me.

Unsure, and upset, I let out a yawn, hoping Annika's words wouldn't pull me down too much.

"Are you alright?" Oliver asks, take my face immediately in his hands, pressing his lips against my forehead. His was still very rough with affection.

"Yeah," I smirk, trying not to laugh at his roughness, "Just feeling a little weak."

"Is it hurting you?" he asks, his cold hand, feeling like ice on my hot skin. It felt nice, as the little one jolted at his touch.

"I have a feeling it's excited," I smirk, "When you touch it there's a little shock in my tummy from it."

He lets out a smile, "You have given me the ultimate gift." Those eyes glimmer into mine though the centuries of lacking emotion still show through.

"Gift?" in the book this wasn't a gift.

"A son, a daughter…children—something I can call my own flesh and blood."

Another shock made me giggle, as his thumb encircled the spot between my hips, "It's happy, that's for sure. I think it loves you, a lot," as the tiny shocks were non-stop, I giggle, putting my hand near his, as the energy of the little sexless bundle feels like a finally at the fourth of July, rumbling within me.

"I would have never though my life would be so complete. You, this—" he stops himself, "nothing could be more perfect."

"So the doubts in your head—they're gone?"

"I had no doubt."

"Then—" I stopped myself, feeling curious, but not having the energy to argue. "I need something from you."

"Anything," he nods.

"Get naked, I'm horny and I don't think I can handle waiting." I'd never been horny before; not to where I felt my body needed it. Just seeing him brought my into this state, and surprisingly he did not hesitate.

Maybe that so called period I had not too long ago wasn't really a period; every thought possible ran through my mind. I couldn't handle any though once he'd entered me; taking me both physically and mentally.

It seemed, my growth had been excelling, as I don't want to bore you with what happened day to day in the home.

I'd find myself in peculiar situations, waking up in the middle of the night in strange places; sleepwalking, then later hearing the horrible sounds of the Banshee.

When I look in the mirror, I see the similarities.

Though I am very pregnant in such a short amount of time, bonding with a vastly growing weed of a baby; I find myself pale, my life being sucked out of me. My bones are oddly visible though, I eat, and yet, food has no taste. My veins brighter, my breasts bigger; at least I look well rested.

Under the moon, though he, my son, develops, I feel my body is beckoned to the streets; to wander, and so, I did though it was obvious that I could not be trapped.

The walking, wherever my feet had so chosen to go as I walked; I felt the dark presence in which watched me like my dogs; who've I still haven't named. They pant, usually in content, side my side as I run my hands alongside their long soft fur; though they are shadows and most of the time invisible to others as I walk.

In the time I've spent with them, I've learned even if humans see them; they run—some, brave enough to approach me, are attacked—one man touched my right hand dog with dangerous intentions and I watched the color of his skin escape from every hole in his body; his eyes scarred with a burning char, as he'd fallen to the ground in a very physical seizure like way.

To them, I was not to be touched.

Not even three months pass, as I am feeling symptoms for the third trimester. I small woman has come to visit me for good money. She's seen very minimal cases like this; where someone with blood like mine, or genetics—I wasn't listening, can awaken the monstrous sperm of a vampire. Stephanie got one thing right….

Sitting, watching the sun go down; I watch, yearning to go outside, to escape.

She's coming tonight, again—I don't like too much, but she does know what she's doing.

I close my eyes, making contact with a child that shocks me with excitement. He's irrationally excited, feeling the sun set, feeling the anticipation of something or someone.

My head cocks, as I look out, into the perfect garden. My eyes suddenly focus, as from a small patch of green grass, slowly turns a shade of yellow, dyeing before my eyes. Intrigued, I stand, making my way out, down from the back porch—the soft sound of earth moves as I'm astounded by the forced that small area is moving. Up, up, up, emerges a hand; a pale hand, not bone, but as pale as I am.

That hand grabs for the grass that is green and full of life, pulling itself from out of the now dead earth, much easier as the fibers of the dirt have loosened.

With time, as I can't currently bend over, the cloaked figure makes his way from the ground. Pale, tattered cloak, dusted with earth accompanied by the sound of one low beating, masked in darkness; something was oddly familiar about him. Presumably a heart and yet the beat had no definite pattern.

I was afraid.

The being uncloaked itself.

I couldn't comprehend—he'd had no eyes, his mouth seemingly welded together with X shaped scars. His fragile pale skin, cracked, some parts of his face were completely rotted, exposing rotted muscle even some shards of skull. He wasn't something that made me easy as he reached out with those statuesque hands touching my face.

He was so cold to the touch that he was burning my cheek, paralyzing me.

Lips that could not separate, holes that could not see, and a hacked nose, completely making me second guess he were human in any point of time.

His energy flowed to mine, oddly, more surprisingly warm as the baby moved in some sort of fit. It was not scared, nor was it happy…something completely indescribable.

Flashes stun me, passing through in my head, light flashes on a very fast camera—my life, flashing though my eyes in a third person point of view. Emerging, a man, hiding in the darkness, watching over; he was telling me something.

Waves of pride flow through me, waves of love though the flashes, stun me, was I am literally going through every minuscule moment of my life; though I felt alone, I had known death had always been there for me. Death, was, my friend but more importantly—this thing—Death, was my father.