The Cycle Continues:

I could hear so much. I heard her labored breathing, her moans and cries of pains, the gentle and encouraging words of the nurse, but more than anything I heard the frantic beating of my heart. It beat painfully against my chest, screaming for release, its beats coursing through my body before finally jumping out and reverberating through the empty hallway I paced like a madman. Suddenly, I heard nothing from behind the closed door. I stopped my pacing and quietly walked towards the door and placed the unmasked side of my face against the cool wood and listened for something, anything. All I heard was my heart. After a minute, maybe two, I heard the shrill shrieks of a babe, the happy words of the nurse and a tired laugh from my wife. The nurse was talking to my wife about something, and soon the newborn's cries had stopped. I heard footsteps start towards the door and I quickly backed away, trying to fix my rumpled shirt and make sure my mask was still secure and covering my face. When the door opened and the face of the midwife appeared, my heart stopped its wild beating for a second and my stomach clenched. She had the glimmer of tears in her eyes and her face was filled with sorrow.

"Monsieur, may I speak with you a moment?" Another set of warning bells went off. The happy voice I heard while she was with my wife was gone now.

"Could it not wait until after I see my wife and child?" I asked, trying to look around her and into the room where they waited.

"I'm afraid the matter cannot wait, and it concerns them both." She replied as she gently shut the door. She started down the hallway and into the living room. "I think maybe you should sit."

I looked at her for a moment, trying to ready myself for whatever news she had for me. My feet felt as if they had been rooted to the floor and I couldn't make myself move over to the couch and sit.

"Please, Monsieur, sit." She plead gently. I numbly felt my feet respond. The woman took a deep breath and started with her news. "Your wife gave birth to a healthy baby girl. She has your wife's eyes and hair," the woman paused, "and your face."

I felt the air rush out of my lungs. My face? I hadn't thought the curse God had given me would be transferred to my innocent child. I felt angry tears sting at the back of my eyes and I fought to keep control over myself.

"It isn't so bad; I believe she will be able to hide most of it with makeup and her hair once she gets older. I did a through check though; there is nothing wrong with her, health wise." The woman stopped and swallowed back some tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. "I'm afraid your wife is not as healthy as your daughter. There were complications. During labor, she suffered from some internal bleeding. I'm afraid there is nothing I can do. She told me her mother also died in childbirth, I believe what she suffered was hereditary."

I felt the pieces of my life come crashing around me. Internal bleeding. With no way to stop it. That would mean. "Are you trying to tell me that my wife is going to die?"

The midwife's tears were streaming down her cheeks, uncensored. "I'm sorry Monsieur, I do not believe she will make it through the night."

I sat there. There was nothing else I could do. My wife, my little Christine, was dying. She was just twenty-two. I had only had five years with her, only three as her husband. I let out an agonized cry and cradled my head in my hands, my sobs flowing freely. I believe the nurse stood there awhile and let me fall apart. She offered no kind words, no 'I'm so sorry' or 'You will get through this.' I managed to get my sobs to soften slightly and I lifted my cursed face from my hands.

"May I go see her?" I asked, my voice a whisper.

The nurse wiped her cheeks and nodded. "She already knows what's happening to her. I'll take my leave for the night, there is nothing left I can do now." I could hear the guilt in her voice, and I wanted to tell her I did not hold her responsible, but I couldn't form the words in my mouth. Instead, I just nodded my head and slowly made my way towards the room my wife lay dying.

---

I opened the door as silently as possible and my breath caught in my throat at the sight that greeted me. Christine, my little wife, was wrapped all up in blankets, her face tired but happy, and her hair still damp with sweat from the labor she had just endured. At her breast she held the babe, our daughter, and it was happily drinking its first meal. It was exactly the sight I had pictured for long nine months, ever since I found out that Christine was carrying our child. Except, I had always pictured it to be a happy memory, one I would cherish for the rest of my life, instead I would have died three times over to avoid it.

Christine sensed I was there, she didn't look up but she smiled and called for me. "Erik, come see her. She's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen."

My feet carried me to our bed, and I sat carefully next to my wife, trying not to burst into tears again. She looked up at me, her dark eyes tired, but still filled with adoration and love. "What do you think about the name Lynette?"

"It's a fine name." My tone was lifeless, and I couldn't bear to look at my wife in the eye, much less the child that continued to suck away at her life and energy.

"It's a beautiful name. Lynette Draper." Christine seemed pleased with herself and she looked back down at the small bundle in her arms. "Would you like to hold her? She's done eating now."

I wanted to say no. I didn't want to hold the little Angel of Death. I didn't want anything to do with it. If I could I would have gone back in time and prevented ever allowing Christine to become pregnant. But I didn't say any of that, of course. I knew she wanted me to hold her so I nodded my head and allowed her to place the thing in my arms.

I had to move the blankets a little to see its squished face. Sure enough, it would have Christine's dark curls, I could already see a few little wisps at the top of its head. I didn't know how the nurse knew it had Christine's dark brown eyes, they were all crunched up and closed. Her face was also ruined, like mine, but not nearly as bad. Most of her scars and tissue deformity seemed to be by her hairline and around her ear, just a few angry little scars pulled at her right cheek.

As I continued to look at the thing, I felt more and more contempt grow in the pit of my stomach. I needed it out of my arms before it sucked the life out of me as well. It was supposed to be a blessing to me and my wife, but God had delivered me a curse instead. I got up and quickly placed it in the bassinet I had lovingly constructed for it so many months ago.

Christine must have noticed something was wrong because she started to cry and called me back to her as soon as I placed the demon in the bassinet. "Oh Erik, please don't."

I turned quickly and rushed back to her side. "Don't what? Its asleep, it'll be fine in there." I picked up her little hands and kissed her knuckles, unsure what I had done to upset her.

"No, no not that! You hate her, you blame her! You can't even say her when you talk about her! I knew you would do this, when the nurse told me what was happening, I knew it!" Christine was now sobbing heavily and had taken her hands from mine to cover her face. "It's not her fault! I knew all along that I could die if I had a child, Madame told me when we first got married. But I didn't care, I wanted a child, I wanted to have a family with you."

I felt an icy sickness settle around me when she said that. She knew. She knew and had never told me. She had let me impregnate her, and in a sense she knew I was going to kill her. "Why, why did you never tell me?" I was whispering to keep myself from screaming.

She looked up and me with her tear-stained face and pulled me closer so that she could lean against my chest, something she often did when she was scared. "Because I knew you wouldn't ever let me have a baby. You would marry me and be afraid to touch me. We would have never made love because you would be too afraid I would become pregnant. I didn't want our marriage to be like that. I wanted it to be happy and normal and filled with love-making, just like every other marriage should be.

"Please don't blame yourself, Erik. I know you will, just as you will blame Lynette. I'm not sad that I had her. I'm sad I won't get to raise her, to stay with you and watch you love her. You'll have to love her enough for the two of us. Don't let her be raised as you were, never feeling the warmth of a hug or the joy of a bedtime story. I want my child to grow in love and happiness, not like I did, with loneliness and sorrows. Teach her to be smart, so she won't make silly mistakes like her mother. Please? For me?"

I was crying too hard to actually say the words, but I nodded and gripped Christine in a fierce hug, my salty tears flowing down into her curls. "What do I do without you Christine? How do I live? How do I raise her without you?" I choked out finally.

Christine pulled away from me just enough so she could look up at me. She pulled off my mask, I had only put it back on because the nurse had come, and kissed both my cheeks. "Darling, I'll still be with you. In every quiet moment, in the first rain of the springtime, and when the wind blows on a hot summer day. Every time a flower blossoms in our garden, I'll be there." She leaned up and kissed me, and I could taste her tears on her lips.

When we pulled away I knew her time was quickly coming to an end. The color was starting to drain from her face, and she pulled the blankets tighter around her as she started to shiver. I made sure my arms were tight around her, and she placed her head against my chest and closed her eyes.

"Husband, sing me the song you sang the first night we met. The one about the night."

I knew her request just confirmed what I already suspected. She was falling asleep, and she wouldn't wake up. "Anything for you, my Wife." I took a few gulps of air to try and clear myself of the tears, then I started to sing the lullaby that would now become her dirge.

As the last note faded from my voice, so did my Christine's life. I gripped her body to mine and cried. She had given her life so that another may live. The damned cycle of life had continued.