The girl was bound to a steel counter, wrists and ankles nearly broken from the vice of the cuffs. Her white skin was ripped up by the sharp metal, blood oozing down on the countertop. Surgery equipment lay neatly on a nearby table. She thrashed violently, scratching up her skin even more. She screamed loud, like she had never screamed before.
Stop yelling, sister. There is no one who will hear you.
A woman approached, wearing a pure white apron and a face mask over her mouth. Her golden hair was tied up in a neat bun, and she donned blue rubber gloves on her forearms. Even through the haze of light in her vision, the girl could see the woman's haunting brown eyes, gleaming. As if she might laugh.
"No..." she tried to say, but all that came out was a bloody dribble that ran down her chin.
Now hold still. This will only take a second.
The woman picked up a scalpel. She shook with fear as the woman touched her head and ran it through her ratty auburn hair. The girl flinched, a sob escaping her chapped lips. The blade came down under her eye and she shrieked as it dug into her skin, cutting a deep gash alongside her already existing scar.
The woman sneered. Look at you. You're so ugly. And this is doing nothing to help.
She continued to cry as the woman gripped the flimsy cotton slip that covered her bruised body. With a flip of the wrist, she tore the fabric away, leaving her helpless victim completely naked. The girl looked at herself, ashamed of her scars, of her nudity. "Why...why are you doing this?" she managed to whimper.
The woman's eyes lit up, and the girl was sure that there was a smile beneath the mask. I'm going to cut you up, and feed you to the wolves. I know how fond you are of them.
She whimpered even more as the woman's hand came down and touched her shoulder, her arms. The scalpel inched down, so agonizingly slowly, to her navel, as her hand groped the girl's breast, pinching much too hard.
It hurts, doesn't it? Good. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve ALL of this.
She screamed as if a thousand rabid dogs were tearing her apart, limb for limb, as the woman stabbed the scalpel right into her stomach, ripping up her guts.
"NO, NO, NO! STOP!"
Levana awoke with a jolt to the sound of her own screams, piercing the silence of the night like needles through skin. Her eyes darted back and forth, looking for the woman, the scalpel—only to find that she was lying in her bed, safe in her room. The sheer curtains covering the glass door to her balcony billowed, letting in the soft evening light. Her sweat-soaked sheets were tangled around her neck, nearly choking her. She threw them back, gripping her ankles and wrists as if her life depended on it. There were no cuffs, no scratches.
But the pain was still there. It came thundering, her abdomen feeling like it was going to explode. A warm liquid ran down from between her legs, joining the sweat on the sheets. Levana sat up, her breath ragged and laboured. Another flash of pain nearly knocked her over—she could feel the muscles in her gut contracting in agony.
"God," Levana managed to say through wet gurgles, "why are you doing this me?"
"Levana?" Akiho asked with concern as she rolled over. "What's going on? Why are you screaming?"
The princess grit her teeth and clutched her belly as another wave of pain crippled her body. "I think...I think my water just broke," she whimpered.
Akiho's sensor flashed. "I don't compute."
"The baby, I...I think it's coming!" Levana hissed, somehow getting out of bed without falling flat on her face. "Stars, it hurts..."
The android immediately started to panic. "What can I do?! Should I comm the doctors?! Should I—"
"Just...just help me walk...I'll get help on my own," Levana said, wrapping her shoulders in a thin blanket. Akiho gently took her hand, guiding her towards the door. The android had stopped talking, but Levana knew that she was still freaking out by her jerky movements and flashing sensor. "Calm down, Akiho...I'm okay."
"No, you're most definitely not! Don't you know anything about childbirth? It's going to hurt so badly, and you might even die!"
"No, it's fine..." Levana mumbled, limping alongside her. "This is nothing I can't handle. I've been through worse."
Slowly but surely, the two made their way down the halls toward the hospital ward. Levana was cursing internally the whole time. Of course, her room was on the opposite side of the vast palace. It was just her luck.
Although it couldn't have been later than eight o'clock, there were no servants to be seen. It was to be expected on a Sunday night, when most of the palace staff had the day off.
"Why did it have to be today?" Levana whimpered, leaning against the wall for support. Akiho still held her hand. The android felt Levana squeeze her prongs, hard, her features contorted in pain.
"Another contraction?" she asked.
Levana looked down at her, biting her lip to keep from crying out. "They're coming even faster now."
"You need help, Levana—I'm comming Sybil."
Levana shook her head. "No, no, I can make it myself, I can—"
She was suddenly cut off as she collided with a woman walking towards her, sending them both to the ground. Levana yelped, one step away from falling flat on her stomach—instead, she rolled on her back, whimpering in pain.
"Damn it! Watch where you're going!" she heard the woman shout, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. Levana blinked quickly, trying to chase away the haze in her vision. Once she finally looked up, she was met with the same brown eyes as those in her dream, the terrifying orbs nailing her to the spot.
Channary rubbed her head, not seeming to notice her crying sister kneeling before her on all fours. Instead of the surgeon's uniform that she wore in Levana's nightmare, she donned one of her signature silk gowns, a form-fitting sheath that accentuated her curves and fell to her feet in a soft wisp. Her hair, instead of the bun, was in the usual braid that hung down her back.
"What the hell, Levana! Why are you tripping through the hallway like a blind mole?!" the queen sneered, straightening her low neckline.
"Channary, I..." Levana reached out with a shaking hand, her eyes big and watery. "I need to go to the hospital...the baby..."
Channary growled, rising to her feet in one swift move. "What do you mean, the—"
"It's coming," Levana gasped, clutching her belly. "I can...I can feel it moving..."
The queen blinked, putting her hands on her hips. "You're in labour, stupid," she snarled, her eyes narrowed.
"No kidding!" Levana cried, a few sobs escaping her lips as another sharp pain made its presence known.
"You're so pathetic! Get up!" Channary shouted, nearly about to kick her.
"Please..." Levana whimpered, gripping the hem of the queen's dress. "I need your help...it hurts so much..."
Channary sneered. "Get away from—"
"I BEG OF YOU, CHANNARY! JUST THIS ONCE, COULD YOU PLEASE JUST HELP ME?!" Levana cried, tears running down her cheeks as she trembled in fear.
The queen looked taken aback, and for the briefest of moments, Levana could've sworn that a flash of pity crossed Channary's face. Of course, in her delirious and terrified state, it was probably just her mind toying with her.
"Okay," Channary said calmly, coming down to Levana's height and holding her back so that she didn't fall. "I need you to calm down. I know that it hurts, but screaming like a lunatic isn't going to help. Now," Channary brushed her sister's bangs out of her face, "can you walk?"
"I think so," Levana whimpered, gripping the queen's hand as if it were a lifeline. Channary helped her up on her feet, one arm held out, and ready to catch her at any moment.
Akiho piped up. "Hey, I want to help too—"
"Just get out of my way, rust bucket," she sneered, pushing the android aside.
Channary was in no way a muscular woman, so she cringed a bit as she felt Levana's weight pulling her down, but she sucked it up and managed to lift the princess into her arms. Before Akiho could say another word, Channary broke out in a run, grateful that she decided to wear flats that morning instead of her usual stilettos.
They reached the cold, metallic doors of the hospital ward in no time. The queen was quite fast on her feet. By then, Levana's whimpers had turned into full-out sobs, the pain nearly unbearable. A plethora of nurses came forth, in obvious alarm and disarray. Through all the haze, Levana could hear Channary barking orders, the nurses rushing her in without question.
As she was handled again and again, Levana could feel her body contorting, as if a monstrous beast was trying to eat its way out of her womb. Agonized screams escaped her throat, wet gargles and small drops of spittle running down her lips. She felt someone laying her flat down on a bed, lifting up her legs and spreading them apart, revealing her genitals.
Levana screamed again, wriggling around and trying to kick the person who held her down. "No! What are you doing?! STOP!"
A midwife took her hand, brushing her sweaty bangs from her face. "This is part of the procedure, Your Highness. Just calm down."
A young doctor—no older than thirty—came in, her black hair tied in a sloppy ponytail. As she ordered the nurses around, she put on a face mask, not unlike the one in Levana's nightmare. As she came closer and met Levana's gaze, the princess screamed like she did in her dream, trying to escape the nurses' grip. She didn't see them, or the room around her. She didn't even see the doctor kneeling down.
All she saw was the woman from her dream. All she saw was Channary.
"Mia! Get the sedatives!" the doctor shouted, trying her best not to get kicked in the face.
"NO! I DON'T WANT ANY MORE OF YOUR DRUGS!"
"Princess, you'll feel much better if you take them—"
"I SAID NO!" Levana screamed, her throat feeling like it had been scratched raw.
A nurse—Mia, Levana presumed—came over with a tray of needles. "Doctor, should I give them to her?"
Levana felt the doctor's hand touch her legs. "No, don't bother." Her brow furrowed. "Levana, listen to me." She looked up to her. "I need you to start pushing at the next contraction."
"But it's way too early!"
"The baby is ready to make its appearance. If we wait any longer, you might lose it."
Levana shrieked as another contraction claimed her, and, doing as the doctor ordered, she pushed as hard as she could, the overwhelming agony enveloping her trembling body. Luckily, it knew what to do in this age-old process, because the princess didn't have the faintest idea.
"Again, Levana!"
She moaned. "I can't...it hurts too much..."
"You must. The harder you push, the sooner it's over."
Another contraction came and went. Levana arched off the bed, unable to think or see properly. The pain was making everything blurry, the world a kaleidoscope that only she could see. The doctor was unfazed throughout the whole thing, even as her gloves became stained with blood that dribbled on the floor.
Another masked nurse came to the princess' side, gripping one of her hands. "Levana, do you want me to—"
"JUST GET THE THING OUT OF ME!" Levana bellowed, her face soaked with tears.
"One more push..." the doctor said, her brow slightly shimmering with sweat.
Her entire body was taut as she gripped the sheets and pushed with all her might. With a moan, Levana finally felt the baby escape the confines of her womb, greeting the loud new reality with equally deafening cries. At the sound, many of the nurses and midwives came closer, staring in awe at the newborn child.
"Congratulations, Your Highness. It's a healthy baby girl," the doctor said, gently lifting the squirming creature, covered in blood and other fluids.
Still sobbing, Levana scrunched her nose in disgust and turned her head away. "I don't want to look at it," she whimpered, hugging her chest.
The doctor said nothing, instead calling over Mia and the other nurse, who gently cut the umbilical cord and took the baby away to clean her.
For a while, Levana just kept her eyes closed, dry heaves making her chest fall up and down. She made the best effort to block out the endless chatter of the medical staff and the baby's sharp wails.
"Your Highness?" a midwife said softly, calling the princess' attention to herself and the crying bundle in her arms. "Someone wants to see you."
She looked up to see the midwife holding the baby out to her, wrapped in a blue blanket. Levana said nothing—she just glared.
The midwife persisted. "She's probably hungry," she said, a sort of twinkle in her eye. The way she looked at the child and at her made a shiver run down Levana's spine.
"Fine," Levana whispered hoarsely, taking the infant in her arms. Anything to deter the eerie woman.
After much insisting that she was fine on her own, the midwife backed off and Levana finally took a good look at the baby. Her skin was bright pink, her cheeks dark red as she cried, but the instant she was placed in her mother's arms, she quieted, opening her eyes. They were just like Levana's, a dark onyx colour, and as she pulled back the blanket, she saw a small tuft of chestnut hair on the child's head.
Levana had expected a feeling of disgust so great that she would even go as far as dropping the baby on the ground, anything to be rid of her. Although she would never admit such a disgusting thought, there were many times, many nights, when Levana had secretly hoped that the child would be stillborn. Unfortunately, though, the little pest was nice and alive, whimpering and pulling at Levana's hair.
Instead of the disgust, however, she just felt drained. Physically and emotionally exhausted. She didn't even have it in her to hate the baby. She just didn't care.
"What are you going to name her, Your Highness?" the doctor asked suddenly, snapping the princess out of her thoughts. Beside her stood the creepy midwife, holding a netscreen—most likely with an electronic birth certificate already displayed.
Levana scowled. "Selene," she said as she pulled her long hair away from the baby's grip. "Princess Selene of Luna."
The midwife smiled as she typed in the information. Levana was about to narrow her eyes, but Selene started to cry again, her tiny hands pulling at the neckline of her mother's dress.
"It's time for her first meal," the doctor said, chuckling. Levana glared at her, quickly shutting her up. By then, most of the nurses had left, and the doctor called the rest of the midwives out to give Levana some privacy.
"Just call out if you need anything," the creepy midwife chirped, her long red hair twirling around her back as she strutted out the door.
Levana sighed, gently cradling Selene with one hand beneath her head, like she had been taught to do. Gingerly, she gripped the neckline of her bloody cotton slip and lowered it down, revealing her breast, engorged with milk. She guided Selene's mouth towards it, but was taken by surprise as the baby immediately latched on and began to suckle.
"A-Ah, be careful..." Levana whimpered, pulling Selene back ever so slightly. "Not too hard, Selene. You're hurting me."
Selene continued to feed, her tiny hands bunched into fists. Levana gently rubbed her back. She could feel herself drifting off to sleep, her eyelids drooping. Once Selene had finished, Levana wiped away the stray droplets of milk with her dress, setting the fabric back over her chest.
The baby settled in her arms, finally sated. With a tiny yawn, Selene closed her eyes, falling asleep within minutes. Levana sat back, her breathing laboured as she just stared at the clock in the far corner of the room. She too fell asleep after a while, as silent tears rolled down her cheeks, following the tracks of those shed before.
"Your Majesty, here is the document you requested," the red-haired midwife said breathlessly as she burst into Channary's study, holding a shimmering chip against her chest.
The queen smiled, her nimble fingers moving quickly as she undid her braid. "Thank you, Neomia. I trust that the certificate isn't signed?"
"Of course not, My Queen. Her Highness fell asleep immediately after giving birth, so I never got the chance to have her sign it." Neomia cocked her head slightly. "If I may be so bold, Your Majesty—why do you need Princess Selene's birth certificate, anyway?"
Channary spun her chair around from where she was sitting, hands folded in her lap. "That's for you and I to know, and no one else to ever find out," she said with a bright lilt to her voice.
Neomia's brow furrowed. "I don't understand."
The queen sighed. "I'm claiming Selene as my own. But no one else can know that."
"Is this because of your—"
"Yes, Neomia, it's precisely that," the queen sneered, rolling her eyes. Neomia was one of the few people alive who knew of her infertility, only having found out through sheer dumb luck.
The midwife's face lit up with comprehension. "So instead of going through the trouble of treatments, you're just going to claim Selene as your own daughter. That's quite clever, if I do say so myself, Your Majesty."
Channary pressed her lips into a thin line. "I'm glad that you think so," she said, unimpressed.
"And, on the plus side, you won't have to go through the pain of pregnancy and childbirth," the midwife continued. "I can tell you how much of a pain in the butt those are."
"I'm sure that it's not the least bit pleasant."
Neomia chuckled. "No, it's not at all." She shrugged. "But just one thing...how are you going to explain this to your sister? She's bound to find out eventually."
Channary's lips curled into a sickeningly sweet smile. "That's when I end her."
Neomia blinked. "End her? As in, kill her?"
"Exactly right," Channary said. "How smart you are."
"Um...is that really necessary, Your Majesty? I mean, I don't really care, but killing your own sister? That seems a bit extreme."
Channary cocked her head, blonde waves cascading down her chest. "You dare question me?"
Neomia clammed up. "No, of course not—"
The queen rolled her eyes, holding out her open palm. "Just give me the chip, Neomia. You're dismissed."
The midwife swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She gently placed the chip in Channary's palm. Nearly trembling with nerves, she bowed curtly before scurrying out of the room, desperate to escape the queen's wrath.
With a sigh, Channary spun around and quickly popped the chip into her computer's main drive, tapping her fingers impatiently on her desktop as the machine processed the information. Finally, the document popped up, bright and blaring on the screen.
Her eyes danced across the big, black letters that spelled Certificate of Birth.