A/N: Thanks to those who review. Poor Maria :'(

26

I jerk instantly, fully awake, shaking uncontrollably. My hands automatically run over my body, checking. Reluctantly I pull myself up I continue feeling-

The dream! My brain is jumbled, desperately trying to retain the dream in my head. I can recall it. The details are still fresh in my mind. What an odd dream. My eyes widen as I remember the snake bite, and despite myself I foolishly lift up my shirt and check my stomach.

I sigh with relief when I see no festering fang holes or swelling. My stomach is still there. Maybe there's a little more of it than last month but oh I'll never worry about a few vanity pounds again. I'm just happy I'm not dead with a belly full of poison.

However the rest of my dream floods back. That snake, I try to recall his features, he was obviously the Creeper, or something like him. It was the Creeper in snake form. As I recalled the other details an uneasiness spreads over me, I almost ate human flesh, the snake bite was horrible deja-vu.

I close my eyes as the worry became deep anxiety, which in turn morphed itself into physical nausea. I wanted to throw up again but I managed to hold it in. I continued thinking about the dream. What did it mean? I felt, I don't know, but I knew it was important. But all the answers scrambled, put into code by my subconscious. I couldn't decode it right now.

I opened my eyes. It was definitely morning; it was much lighter in the horrible dank basement. I moved towards the light in the upper levels. I loved the light. I bathed in it. The one drawback was that I could see. I could see his dusty agonized victims hanging all over the place.

They're just corpses, I told myself, they can't hurt you. They're already dead don't feel sorry for them. Their suffering is over, they would pity youI still didn't like being around them, they were simply too horrifying for a normal human psyche. I moved toward the drainpipe and the beautiful light that showered from it. It was almost a religious experience; I meditated in the light, simply thinking. My stomach calmed.

Hmmm I wonder where the Creeper is? I didn't see him; I opened my eyes and checked the ceiling for good measure. No he wasn't there. He was probably out hunting again. I peered up the drainpipe, could I run again?

Something told me I couldn't or shouldn't run. After all he might be back in a minute I had no idea how long he was gone. Or he could just be outside, or in the upper layer of the church. That's good thinking before you would have just ran compulsively. Yes I was learning, I was more cautious, that was good. But I felt something wither inside. I felt I was more… accepting of my fate.

My mind began to work feverishly wait until for certain he is going to be gone for awhile. Double check for him or his car then run near the road but stay hidden, hitchhike at the first opportunity and ask to get the hell out of there. If he starts chasing you abandon the car and run.

Hmmm hitchhiking can be a problem, too many weirdoes out there, but its better than the alternative, just take a knife or something.

Okay that was my basic plan, not bad. But it would take a while to execute. Failure is not an option. If I get caught and punished…

My stomach rolled sickeningly again; I can't let that happen another time. It reminded me of the snake bite, the same horrible, helpless feeling. I shut my eyes in misery and struggled not to cry. I have to admit this even if it's just to myself. I can't ignore the reality of what happened any longer.

I hear a fluttery noise above me. My head snaps up to see something blocking the drainpipe then falling…

I scrabble out of the way just in time to see something wrapped in a sheet drop unceremoniously down onto the floor. I stay close to the pipe and listen; I hear another, then another. One, two, three sheet covered objects fall to the ground. Recoiling at the sight of what clearly appeared to corpses I looked cautiously up the pipe again.

Peering down was the ugly face of the monster that so cruelly held me captive. I saw him catch sight of my face peering back at him, and he happily grinned and shoved himself down the pipe. I quickly backed away, thinking I could retreat back to my little corner because I did not want to be near him. However he climbed down the pipe much faster than I anticipated, and with lightning speed he had climbed out, righted himself and bounded over to me.

His hands were on me, holding me still; He pushed his nose briefly against mine. I felt the air rush around me as it was pulled into his inquisitive nostrils. His fingers ran themselves absent mindedly through my hair as he smelled it carefully. I held still and kept my gaze down, don't fight him, don't look at him. He finally pulled away I managed to look up and saw him regarding me with his awful eyes. The eyes are like the snake's. I looked away again.

He turned away to and began focusing on his meal. Even if they were already dead it wasn't something I wanted to see. I turned and ran back to my "room" he did not follow me. I felt relieved.

His presence alone was enough to terrify me into submission. I could not help but recall back to the dream and its horrendous conclusion. A few tears slipped out, then more and more until I forced my hand over my mouth to stifle my pathetic sobs and whimpers. I sat there in the semi-dark listening to the crunching noises and the deep echoing gulps, crying silently in self pity, thinking of the nightmare.

It meant something, I knew that now. It was about what was bothering me…

I remembered, the strange feeling, I had almost forgot it, it was a part of me now. Everything was different.

Why does he keep me? That's what I asked myself, and my answer, what my subconscious answered was; you know why.

I stopped crying and looked back up towards where the creature was. The snake's bite, it's violation of me. My gut clenched and my tears flowed again. I was a plaything.

30

I left him alone for a long while and thankfully he left me. I ate my increasingly stale rations. I'm going to have to find more. HE is gone again for reasons I'm not privy to. I've been quiet, thinking. Everything is as silent as a grave. My thoughts are in turmoil.

There is something I can't deny the reality of any longer. Something bad happened to me and I can't hide it any more, and I know this has to do with what feels like a madness setting on me. It's the key to why this has been happening.

It's hard though to guess what his intentions and motivations are. I've gathered up every dim memory and forgotten legends I've heard about him. I've heard of the story of Trish and Darry, but the details are confused. We're they lovers or siblings? Did he kill them both? What did he want again?

In a sense he reminds me of El Chupacabra. I've heard legends and stories. Heard it from the cousins of my cousins in Puerto Rico, but you dismiss it; take it all as embellishment or legends. You never expect to see a monster, let alone be kidnapped by it.

He gives no clarification about himself either. I've never heard him speak, he only growls like an animal. He can make his motivations clearer through facial expressions or pantomime, but these motivations are simple: Don't run away, stay there, come here. Nothing that gives a clue as to why he would kidnap a random girl. How am I supposed to understand what happened to me if I don't know what he's thinking?

Ask him.

The thought is so simple and clear and easy that I feel incredibly stupid. Duh it's obvious, just ask him. Of course after a few seconds of thought I can see the problem with the idea.

He can't speak.

Or he won't speak; you've never really asked him anything.

What if it makes him angry?

That was a problem, but I was fairly certain I wouldn't anger him. I've seen him angry, he was furious when I tried to run, and his punishment was terrible. No no no don't think about that. So I doubt just me asking questions would bother him, but I made a note not to do it while he seemed busy.

No sooner had I thought this than I heard him descending down the pipe again. I peered out nervously. Yes more people, I hear moaning. I quickly close my eyes and stuff my fingers into my ears, just like when I was a little girl and the commercial for the scary movie came on. I don't want this in my memory. I cautiously open my eyes when I think it might be safe. I can see the bodies aren't moving in the dim light. They're all dead. I sigh in slight relief, it's so much worse when they're alive.

He's eating now, that actually gives me some respite. I can't talk to him now. I giggle slightly, it would be rude, bad manners, don't talk with your mouth full! In truth I'm just nervous as hell. I'm whistling in the dark. I actually have to talk to the horrible creature. It's something I need to do. I need to know. But actually moving willingly closer to him, starting a conversation. Somehow this is terrifying.

I steel myself. He's busy now, but he won't be forever. I have time. I'll talk to him, but not right now, but I'll do it I swear.

Midnight

He's done now. He's not eating anymore. Now he's working, I heard him move a few things around, carving, cutting, making. How on Earth did he learn to do all this?

He's at his desk. He's taken his coat and hat off, his wings are tucked neatly behind him, and he's gazing interestedly at the human remains on his table. What to make, what to make.

I know this because I'm watching him from the shadows. Cowering timidly at the jarring alien image of an inhuman monster as a master craftsman. This thing has put me through more horror, pain and fear then I could ever imagine possible, and now I have to ask him why he did it. I'm so violently afraid I'm shaking. Just do it just do it, get it over with. Filled with trepidation I emerge slowly from the shadows.

It's darker; he's lit a few candles. He's gazing at the odd collection of glass bottles and tubes and thread and wires that litter his desk. It looks like a cross between a mad scientist lab and a sewing kit. This monster is just beyond bizarre.

He doesn't notice me, I am silent and he is absorbed in his work. Now or never, Maria. I move in closer so that I know I'm in his line of vision. I control my shaking and try to make my face more neutral. I remind myself not to wring my hands or fiddle with my long hair in nervousness. I know he sees me, but he does not acknowledge me, I peer over his desk, pretending to be interested in his work. Well I am a little interested, how does he know how to do this? I really want to know. I use my genuine interest to quash my fear. Just rubbernecking, Creeper.

He finally raises his head to see my curious looks. He stares at me, now or never, now or never. I look up into his eyes, oh they're so horrible, hold it together, Maria. Before I can stop myself my hands play with my hair again, and my voice comes out in a ridiculous squeak.

"Uh, um, um, Hi." I blurt out quickly, "Can-can you, um... speak?"

He blinks at me a few times, and then his gaze lowers in what seems like thought.

Maybe he really can't speak, how is he supposed to tell me, you idiot Maria. Now I'm feeling awkward. Does he even understand me? No I'm sure he understands he's understood me before. I'm wondering if I should retreat now, I'm feeling a little sick again.

Then to my surprise sound issues from his mouth, it's not words but it sounds like gagging almost. I stare, politely puzzled, waiting for a response. He chokes out some sounds then to my surprise he begins to speak!

"Can." He jerks out. He grabs his throat. "Speak." He says deliberately. "But not good," He gestured to his mouth, "for speaking." He gestured to the human remains, the flesh scraped neatly off the bones. "Good for eating." He laughed at his own labored sentence.

I didn't join in, my mind raced. So he can speak and he can understand. He's just not really designed for language. Who is he normally going to talk to? But my mind had exploded with a thousand other questions. Luckily it narrowed in on one, the most important one. I choked out pathetically over the tears in my throat, "Why did you take me?"

Now he's staring at me, he looks somewhat confused. I realize I have to elaborate so I blurt out again "Why am I here? Why did you-?" Even here, just between us, I can't say, the shame is just too intense; my cheeks flush red I and clutch my stomach as if I were wounded. My mind drifted back to the snake bite.

His eyes widen at the gesture, and then lower in brief thought again, and then he quickly jumps up, suddenly energized. "Child." He whispers eagerly.

I back away slightly, confused. What, is he calling me a child? I shake my head slightly, I didn't get it. "Child." He repeats, suddenly his hand rubs languidly down my breasts my stomach between my legs. "Child." He drawls out. I back away in fear now.

Something is buzzing in the distance; my hearing seems to have gone bad. My ears have a fuzzy ringing in them. My mind is wading in tar. Something is about to crash on my head, danger, Maria Adams, danger! What is that closing in on me?! I feel even more ill, claustrophobia…

He grabs a piece of half worked bone; I dimly recall seeing him carving it earlier. He starts on it again. He takes a knife, scratch, scratch, scratch, he uses his claws to work out the finer details, and then he's done. He hands it to a dumbfounded, silent me. I look uncertainly back up at him then to the bone. And I began to see the scratches are actually pictures. Simple, but beautiful in their own way.

These pictures, I think. (What is that ringing noise in my ears?) They show him, a man with wings, he's in some kind of pose, and next to him is another figure. It's a woman, easily identifiable by her stylized curves and her long dark hair. I realize-

"Is this me?" I ask looking up at him, he nods brusquely and I continue on. There is the demon and the woman, me and him. I blush again at the salacious scenes, but my eyes are quickly drawn towards the end. The demon and the woman, me and the Creeper are more crudely carved here due to the rush he put at the end, but there is a third figure…

My throat is burning, and it all crashes down on me. Everything slams onto my head. One small corner of my mind jumps up and down in excitement "I get it! I get it!" The rest of my mind begins a slow long howl of misery and fear. It can't be real.

I think he kicked my legs out from under me, or more likely I just collapsed, still clutching that piece of bone. It can't be, It can't be…

But it all makes sense now doesn't it? The odd feelings, the mood changes, the increased sense of smell, the sickness in the morning ,morning sickness you idiot, I laugh hysterically. What else would result from the Creeper's unwanted attentions? Why else would he want me? Why else would he smell me so attentively almost everyday? Why else would he not eat me?

I can't deny things any longer, despite my feverish desire to make believe nothing happened. I walked in on him feeding. I ran her pursued. I ran into this church, thinking I could escape when he found me. He…he forced himself on me, and he let me go. Then he recaptured me. I have since refused him but I can't resist every time He has enjoyed himself with me a few more times after that, despite my desperate protests. Now the results are staring me in the face. Still…

"How could this happen?" I scream inside my head, I might have screamed it aloud too, I was way beyond caring. But it had happened, I knew. The Creeper uses human body parts for food, tools, decorations; he's simply using me in a different way. I think I can even remember when it happened exactly.

He's in front of me now, what is he doing? Trying to pull me up it seems, but my mind is too far gone. I manage to raise my torso shakily; I can see him blurrily through my tears. I want to cry and scream and attack and bite him but all my curses and accusations are lodged in my throat, all I can manage is one trembling finger pointed at him in accusation.

Now all my rage and pain has hardened in my esophagus, it's caught there, I can't breathe. I can't fucking breathe! I gasp and I gag as my mind crashes down again. No more air. I'm back on the ground gaping like a fish out of water, I'm dying but all I think of is it's not happening, it's not happening. Reality has simply stopped existing.

I'm almost out, almost gone when I feel a sharp punch between my shoulder blades. My body heaves up a lump of whitish vomit and my throat is cleared. Air rushes in but I still black out. The last thing I see is the bone he gave me. In between the woman and the demon is a third figure. A little one with little wings, of course, it all makes perfect sense.

I'm pregnant.

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A/N: Too soap operaish? I wanted something dramatic but I didn't want to over do it. More reviews so I updated quicker. I edited this to god speed! you black emperor's song East Hastings AKA the spooky song from 28 Days Later when Jim walks around a deserted London.

Read and review yadda yadda…