In Gehenna, there are many buildings with many things inside. There are houses, shops, and places where things are made, but there is one street where a very important collective of buildings sit. It is perhaps the most bluntly named street in Gehenna with it's sign reading "Medicine Street". This is where all of the medical-related offices were. There was a doctor's office, an optometrist, and a building reserved to be a dentistry, but one building was established before all of the others as the home base of Gehenna's proud midwives.
The large building stood tall on Medicine street with strong walls made out of brown brick. On the front of the building said simply "Gehenna Midwifery" so there was no mistake as to what the building was, but the sign that stuck out from the building and was visible from the sidewalk it sat on simply had the image of a witch with a purple hat and cape, calmly riding a bicycle. It wasn't confusing to those who lived in town, however, as the garb was an important, recognisable feature.
Everyone recognised them, now that they had a uniform, which aided them in letting people that they urgently had places to be. Witches assumed the role as midwives decades ago, and they certainly looked it with their purple "witch hats" with a green trim and small, matching capes. They were made just so, preventing them from getting tangled in the wheels and chains of their bicycles on their way to their next patient.
Their methods would be considered "primitive" or "outdated" by human medical professionals, despite the new equipment they acquired when everything was being improved upon a few years prior, but the fact of the matter was that they needed to use whatever they had. Most importantly, however, it worked. It was a science that they could make work almost every time, and it was a good thing, too, as they were the only ones who knew how to deliver children in the entire town. They were proud as they were respected, and thus they received a lot of attention when it was time to make repairs to their building.
Today, they were conducting business as usual thus far. There were those who were out on routine check ups, while the rest were either resting or waiting to be called out. The building was actually much to large in proportion to the people who worked there, but most lived there as well. Plain wallpaper covered the walls, decorated by paintings and woodcarvings that were donated to spruce up the place. Some were even made by the midwives themselves in their spare time. By the entrance was a piece of decoration that was common in both businesses and homes in Gehenna. The midwifery's in particular, was a wooden statue of Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travelers. His image was common in Gehenna, but only in his depiction as a cynocephallus.
A large desk was in the main entryway. On top of it were two computers and a radio that softly played, but there was more than that. Anyone could see that it was full of clutter, but always had two witches on duty answering the phones. The only exception to this was when one of them needed to take all of the empty teacups and food wrappers away. It was the only station in the whole building allowed to be dirty, which didn't send a good message to those who came in, but kept those who had to sit there all day sane. Behind them was a large chalkboard with all of the shifts written out. It showed which midwife was on duty what day, or even what night. No matter what the time way, these sorcerers were always on vigilant, as mother nature yields to no one.
The poor women from night duty were dozing off as morning broke and thank goodness, it was time to switch off at seven. The previous midwives cleared away the debris from the night before as their replacements stood by, ready to wipe off the desk and take their place. Everything ran like a well-oiled machine, but there was always time for small talk. They chatted for a while before the previous witches headed up the stairs to their quarters for a well-deserved rest, having completed their work until they were on duty once more.
From here, their replacements checked in and looked over the appointments for the day on the computer. They gave ten-minute notices to other midwives who had an appointment coming up so that they had enough time to prepare and start heading out over the intercom. More than anything, though, they waited. That is what the job at the front desk mostly way. It was waiting for appointments and waiting for calls. After a few hours, it was such a time, forcing them to turn the radio down as they leapt into action.
Calmly, the midwife answering the phone answered the phone, asking questions and doling out advice, all while her hand scribbled information down like it was possessed. Silently, she signaled to the other witch next to her to call the patient's assigned midwife or at least someone who could tend to her.
"Greta, come down to the front desk. You have a patient on call."
A woman in her mid thirties quickly made her way down the stairs and was handed the piece of paper with everything being described over the phone written down on it. Looking over it, she took in all of the information on it before nodding. With the name she read, however, she grew concerned.
"This woman's baby is most likely mixed." Greta said to the woman who handed her the slip. "Can you call down someone to back me up?"
"On it."
"Thank you, kindly. Tell them to get their bag and meet me by the door. I'm going to run and get mine."
"Wait, Greta!" called out the first woman on the phone, blocking the speaker with her palm. "How on earth are you going to get there? The patient is at Phantom House. You won't be able to get there on time if you take the bus."
"Rats..." cursed Greta with a snap of her fingers. "I'll find a way. There's all kinds of ways to get places in London!"
"Ask Zahara, she'll know. Just be quick!"
Running was done as widwives scrambled to come up with an idea on how to cope with the situation. It seemed like ages, but it was only over the span of fifteen minutes that it was decided that they would just have to run for it. The plan was to take the bicycles to the metro station and ride the train before pedaling the rest of the way. It didn't help that the Phantom House wasn't nearby. The team was going to be exhausted before they even started working!
Sacrifices had to be made, as while Greta's associate was the swiftest of the widwives, she was also one of the youngest, and thus one of the least experienced at the age of twenty-three. Still, it was something. She went by the name of "Brooke" and was almost as good as anyone else who worked there, but had a tendency to get nervous. With much vigor, they headed out, pedaling as fast as they could without running into unavoidable obstacles, like waiting for the front gates of the town to open and various crosswalks.
One of the strangest things they ran into was humans calling them "Kiki" as they rode down the street with their capes flapping in the wind. No one thought they were real witches, so they had nothing to worry about. To humans, it was merely a costume, while to supernaturals, it was much more. Granted, many humans were unpleased with the two of them bringing their bicycles on the train.
It was a nervewracking experience, standing there while everyone was staring at them. Some with malice, while some of them were amused. The witches were anxious, relying on charms to prevent cellphone cameras for picking up anything but light when humans attempted to take a picture for social media. Greta and Brooke could hear cursing as the few that tried it cursed their malfunctioning devices, unaware that the cause was indeed magic. Unfortunately, this ride took up some time, and getting off of the train was difficult with everyone else pushing past them.
Once they were off, their short rest was over and they were forced to keep riding. After carrying their bicycles up the stairs out of the metro station, they took off, pedaling as fast as they could and praying that they made it on time. Their capes fluttered behind them as icy daggers pierced their lungs with each strained breath they took, sapping their strength even further.
Their legs were on fire by the time they saw the gates, but it was no time to give up just yet! Even though they slowed down as they turned in so that they could be checked by the guards stationed out front, the two H.E.L.L.S.I.N.G. operatives simply waved them both inside, allowing them to pass more freely. The two witches assumed that they were informed of their arrival beforehand, but it was no such time to dwell on needless things. What was done had been done. There was no need to think about it.
On their way inside the building, the midwives practically threw down their bicycles after grabbing their bags out of the front baskets and ran up the steps to the front door. "Dainty" did not even come close to describing the knocking on the heavy door that ensued, but regardless, they were quickly let in. Their abrupt arrival startled the woman at the front desk to her feet, which was a good thing, as she needed to direct them to the patient.
"Midwives?" she urgently questioned, continuing after being met with a pair of nods. "Room 14B. It's on the next floor up!"
"On it." answered Greta, moving without thinking. While her younger associate slowed down from being tired, the more experienced witch blocked out the feeling and instead focused on the task at hand. She would have time to be tired after her task was done, but for now, it would have to wait.
Greta made it too the door and was banging on it with her fist by the time her associate was halfway up the stairs. As soon as it opened, she got to work, removing her cape and hat and replacing it with sterile hands, gloves, and an apron. She began telling everyone who could hear her what to do, all while giving instructions to the woman of the hour.
Her name was "Sigrid" and she was an elf from Scandinavia, by the looks of her. Specifically, she was a huldra- the kind with a tail resembling that of a cow, which needed moving throughout the procedure. The midwives were careful, as it was their understanding that the child had the possibility of being made between two types of supernatural beings. Sigrid wasn't entirely certain who the father was, unfortunately. It complicated things, but from what the witches could gather, things were looking good.
This was true even though they had been there for hours, working nonstop after biking all of that way. It was all part of their job, as exhausting as it was, but it was all worth it in the end. Greta was actually resting when the time came, switching off with her associate in order to catch her breath. Yet, she leapt right back into action as soon as she was alerted by one of Sigrid's friends that she was needed.
After hours of working and waiting, a new supernatural was brought into the world. She was a baby girl with brown skin, green eyes, and small tufts black hair, not yet resembling her pale mother but she most likely would at least a little in the future. They both already shared tails in common. Once she arrived, everyone could rest easily again, but one thought lingered in the minds of her mother and her friends.
"Sigrid..." one said as she stared at the child intently. "Is that-? Is that… his?"
"It would appear that way." Sigrid replied, still proud all the same. "Even if she is, she's still perfect. The time of the Order is gone, so she's safe from him."
Neither of the midwives understood what they meant by this, but stood by and listened, regardless. They were going to watch over the woman a while longer before they gave their instructions and left until checkup time. Still, they felt as though they should say something.
"Do you have a name?" asked Brooke, prompting the mother's attention.
"Halfrida." Sigrid said. "Halfrida… Oh, I don't want to give her her fathers surname..."
"What was her father's last name?"
"Omid."
A/N: Don't expect this to be like, important or anything any time soon if it every will be. It probably won't. There was a loose end and I felt like it needed touched upon. For the most part, this kid will grow up completely normal.
Ah, I don't know what to do for the next chapter... I'll think of something I guess...
I could have waited instead of trying to finish this at 5:30 in the morning, but apparently, I just don't love myself enough.
In other news, I found notes I made a while back about paperwork and policy at H.E.L.L.S.I.N.G... I desperately want to talk about it, since it probably won't be mentioned in the story, but I have no one to ramble to! Ack! I expire...
Lying on your paperwork has serious consequences, u fucks
Still lookin' for countries to add to the list, so keep 'em commin'. The responses I've gotten are all so interesting... Like, 24529847529457294 times more interesting than anything I could have possibly come up with.
I like how everybody else's acronyms are cool, and America's is just "BIGFOOT". We would call it that, too. It's not even a joke.
Though, they don't have to be acronyms at all. The Iscariot organization is one of the biggest in the world, but it's not an acronym.
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!
