Here I Am, This is Me
Chapter Two
The Birth of The Devil's Child
by Roaming Tigress
The devil's child was born on a dreary, rainy evening of March 20th, 1962, just shortly after a hailstorm. It seemed as if the higher powers from above, whomever they may be, had decided to add more drama to the scene of the crime.
I came into to the world at exactly eight o'clock that night, screaming at the top of my little lungs as I was taken into the hands of Roberto the moment I came out of the birth canal. Even that early in life, my character was developing by the second and I wanted to make my voice be heard to all! Right off the bat, I was a fighter.
Being born a month and a half prematurely, I was so tiny that I was able to fit right in my father's palm as he dried me off and clipped off the cord. I was the result of an accidental pregancy, but nonetheless, Roberto was a proud father. He was responsible for bringing yet another son into the world that would carry on his genes and the family name. He wasn't all that concerned that I was undersized, for he was confident that I would grow to be big and strong, just as he did.
Unfortunately, that pride lasted for all of five seconds when he held me up to take a good look at my face. He saw my grotesquely deformed beak that was twisted in a permanent half-smile, half-snarl. The lower jaw stuck out like a bulldog's, and the upper mandible was nearly split in half due to a cleft palate. He spat in my face and called me a devil's child, and after placing part of a bloodied cloth over my head, he hastily handed me over to Emillia. He was too ashamed to admit that I was his flesh and blood, too close minded to look past my appearance. Rumor has it that Roberto was a God-fearing man, but he sure was not acting like one on that infamous night.
My mother couldn't understand what was wrong as she hugged me, until the corner of the cloth was pulled away from my head. She didn't know what to do, or what to say, but she had no difficulty in knowing what she thought of me. Like my father, she was disgusted, shocked, and unable to love me the way a mother should. The instinct to snuggle up close to her for warmth and protection was strong even in my first few minutes of my life, and she held me away as I tried to get closer. All my mother wanted was for me to be gone, and all I wanted was to be with her. I started crying again, until she half-heartedly held me close to her breast. Feeling safe, my crying ceased as I lulled into my first nap.
Dispose of him, father ordered, in any way necessary. Roberto knew of a doctor who had euthanized unwanted and sickly infants, albeit illegally, and he suggested this to her. He would have loved to see me take the big sleep following the prick of a needle, but he was out of town. He was out of the rat poison he had stored in the barn, and didn't own a gun to quickly take care of me. There were the knives in the kitchen, but he didn't want to tarnish them with my blood.
Emillia thought of the well in front of the house, snapping my neck, and literally throwing me out to the wolves that roamed the forest behind the farm. She had heard of the cruel farmers who would take litters of kittens and puppies and stuff them inside burlap bags, and toss them into the river to drown. It would be an easiest enough thing for her to do, the nearest river as only a quarter of a mile away. She would do it when it was night, so that the locals wouldn't see what she was up to.
However, what if someone had found out about the infanticide and reported it to authorities? With regret, Emillia decided that she couldn't kill me. It wasn't out of pity that she chose this decision, but rather, cowardice, the fear of persecution. She didn't want to go to jail for putting an unwanted child out if its misery -- and hers. There was the adoption option, but who would adopt me? Nobody, she figured, because I would just take the space that a "normal" one could have. For a moment she contemplated plastic surgery to be done immediantly, but soon shoved that thought aside. She figured I wouldn't live very long, being as fragile as I was, and realized that she was stuck with me.
At only three years old, my brothers were too young to comprehend what was going on. They stood in the doorway, too naive to know that their little brother had gone from an innocent, helpless newborn to a bad omen in just ten minutes.
Disclaimer: Steelbeak, Darkwing Duck, and all other characters mentioned except for Javert J. Adair, Emillia, Roberto, Valentino, Andreas and Antonio Volatilli belong to Disney. Do NOT borrow ideas from or distribute this story without prior permission of the author at
Author's note: this is a revised, improved version of "Twisted Every Way" which was originally written in 2002. Certain aspects from that story have been changed or elaborated.