Chapter 61 - A Costly Trade
Delice turned in bed, her eyebrows furrowed, her facial features twitching sharply under the dim red light of her room.
A groan of pain.
An unintelligible whisper through trembling lips.
Nightmares were battles.
Battles Delice always fought with but never won, because they kept coming back. Hitting her with more intensity than the last, more real everytime as she relived the saddest moments of her life in her dream, just like she was doing right now.
She turned violently in bed, her attempt to wake up futile, her mind been pulled further into an abyss of memories she would give anything not to relive.
But suddenly everything became blank and she was doing that exact thing she didn't want to do.
Reliving. Dreaming.
Once again, there she was, in that cottage, on that raining night, that was filled with flashing lightening and deafening thunder.
The room was dark and it was noisy outside with the rain beating against the transparent window glass.
Delice moved around with her protruding stomach. She was close, she knew it, she could smell it, but she was all alone and there was nowhere to go, no one to call.
She groaned again as the pain hit, her hands tightened on the edge of the table she held in her hand, breaking it. The lightening flashed, she arched her back, a desperate cry rang from the depth of her throat.
Hoarse, loud.
Lightening flashed and the mirror in front of her, cracked at the sound of the deafening thunder that followed.
She struggled, pushing towards the bed that was at one corner of the room. Then she laid down, waiting for the worse of anything that would come upon her.
If only it was possible to make her baby not partake in her suffering. Her baby didn't deserve it. She rubbed her hand over her belly, crying, whispering inaudible words of apology underneath her breath.
Just as she was loosing faith, the door swung open and Delice's tired gaze turned to whosoever it was, as she tried to make sure her eyelids don't got shut with the pain that threatened to force them closed.
The lightening flashed again, and there by the door was Laura in her black pant and white shirt, accompanied by a long red jacket.
"By the Blood, Delice!" She exclaimed, her eyes wide with horror.
"My baby..." Delice whispered, her eyes glimmering with hope, her lips offering a tired smile. Laura ran towards her, holding her face in hers. "I'm here now, you are alright."
But she wasn't. She wanted to say that but words deserted her, her throat hurt like it was being ripped apart, set on fire, like if she said one more word, it would explode. So, she shook her head instead.
"Ahhh!"
Her thighs hurt, her back, her head, everywhere. She could feel the baby coming but something was blocking the way.
"Hold my hand--"
"Lau--ra" she cried, holding her tightly. "Help me, please. Help my baby."
Laura nodded blinking her tears away.
"I will." She caressed a side of her face, a reassuring smile on her lips. "Just trust me."
And she did.
After that, it was all a blur.
A lot of pushing, a lot of panting, then her eye lids fell shut immediately it was all done.
It was all deadly silent.
Still in the dream, the next time she woke up, she was alone in the room and the heavy rain had stopped. The room was no longer as dark or as cold as it was before. The fireplace was lit and the room smelt of heat and firewood and a whiff of blood.
Delice found herself cleaned up too, naked underneath the fresh blanket on the bed.
Laura must have done a lot of work.
She tried to sit up, but she could still feel the pain from down there, in fact her whole body still ached, but it was different. It was better.
She was better.
What about her baby?
Her gaze roamed over her bed with an expectant smile, but all she found next to her was an empty sheet.
The door swung open and Laura stepped in, smelling of mud, rain and the forest.
Delice's eyes turned glassy, her smile broadening, a flicker of doubt and fear in those glimmering eyes.
"Where is my child?" She asked with hope.
"Delice. I love you." She said, her gaze unmoving as her drove her hand through her dripping wet black hair, rain droplets rolling down her fair face, her white shirt almost transparent from how drenched she was.
What exactly had Laura been doing in the rain?
"I know. I love you too, you are my best friend. Now where is my child?" Her lips stretched wider. "Where did you put my baby?"
"He's dead."
Delice rose up to her feet slowly, not knowing where she found the strength or minding that the sheets had slipped off her body to the floor, now leaving her naked.
"He." She chuckled, her voice a happy whisper. "I gave birth to a son."
"Delice." With a careful step, Laura moved towards her.
Delice wiped away the tears that rolled down her cheeks angrily, while she sniffled.
There was no need for her to cry.
"That's great news, Laura. Although, I wanted a daughter, just so she'll be like me but I guess I can teach him. I'll be a great mother, right?"
"Delice..."
She held her hand up immediately, shutting her up.
"You must have made some mistake. That's it, it's a mistake." Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Laura, my son is not dead, I did not give birth to a dead baby." Her eyes squinted, her gaze fixed on Laura. "You know we have no heart beats right, I just want to make sure--"
She never completed that. Her legs buckled beneath her but before she hit the floor, Laura was by her side, bringing them down together with ease, so she was sitting while Laura held her in her firm embrace.
"Did you go out in the rain to bury my son?" She asked, her voice eerily quiet, her gaze fixed on the wooden floor.
"Yes."
"When did he died?"
"Seconds after he was born."
"Was it my fault?"
"No. You did nothing wrong. You really tried hard."
Delice nodded, feeling Laura's hand move through her hair to comfort her but it was useless, her grief was immerse. She was sure she would never heal from this.
"Did he---" she paused, looking up at Laura, "did he suffer? Was he in pain? Was---"
"It was peaceful."
"Good." She sniffled. "Very good." She raised her shaky hand to her line of sight.
"I didn't even get to hold him. To know how my child felt like."
"Delice."
"I didn't hear his voice, his cry. I never got to see him. What will I do with his nursery now, I had great plans for us. I thought we would be together, I would be a mother and--"
"I'm so sorry, Delice."
Her hand banged against her chest and she screamed, her heart aching with pain beyond compare.
"My son is dead!"
Her eyes turned feral red. Naked, she bolted right out of the door before Laura could even stop her.
Delice jerked awake from the dream, her eyes red with bloodlust from rage and her nightwares, she could feel the pain and the need to take out her grief on someone.
The consuming need to hunt.
A sublime madness.
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