An Inmate Without Regrets

HEAVY Content Warning: Mature Language, Suicidal Themes, Abortion, Abuse, Suggested Drug Use, Murder, Sexual Assault, Body Mutilation, Cannibalism...etc.

The yellow laminate flooring shines as you walk down the cell block, and you focus on that as you're led past cells, noticing the slight stains, scrapes, and nicks in the textile hidden beneath the gleam. You'll look into trying to appeal soon enough, but right now, you're just trying to get through the end of a long, exhausting day.

"Looks like you get a new roommate, Doc." Ralph - the guard escorting you - says with a playful, almost chipper tone, opening a cell door. You hesitate a moment before stepping into the cell, eyeing the current occupant with suspicion. Generally speaking, the people in this prison are here for good reason - there's little doubt that the individuals here belong here. You know you belong here, even if you're going to try to get out before your full sentence.

"Doc" looks up from their reading material, taking you in with equal wariness. Sizing you up as an active threat. Yet, they - a rather androgynous individual - seem almost at ease. Like they don't fear you even though they have no idea what you're in for. Like you aren't a threat, though you know you can be one.

"Hey," you acknowledge.

"Hello." Your cellmate's tone is flat, and their eyes drift back to their reading; the epitome of disinterest.

"Don't worry too much; Doc here plays nice." Ralph chuckles.

"Mostly," Doc corrects with a smirk, "I wouldn't be here if I were all sunshine and rainbows. I'd say this one could ask my last cellie, but they're not in here anymore."

"Technically, true," replies Ralph, who steps back and closes the cell door with a wide grin. You get the assumption that he secretly respects what Doc's done to wind up in the prison, rousing your curiosity.

Ralph begins a patrol around the cell block, leaving you and your cellmate alone.

"So... Doctor?" you ask. You want to ask them if they're male or female, but you're embarrassed that you can't tell which you think they are. You would expect that the prison wouldn't house the genders mixed in cells, but you just aren't sure. They smile.

"Yeah. Among other things..."

You introduce yourself, then tentatively ask, "So, mind telling me what you're in for? Medical malpractice or some shit? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to - just... curious." You play it down, but you really want to know what the person sharing the cell with you has done. Why Ralph almost seems to respect them.

Chances are, you'll have the worse crimes of the two.

"Short version or the full version?" Doc asks, peering over the top of their book.

"Uh, full, I guess?"

"Get cozy," they answer with a chuckle, setting the book cover-down before lying down on their cot with a loud creak. Doc props themself up on one elbow, facing you as they begin to recall the events leading up to their imprisonment.

"I decided I wanted to help deliver babies sometime in my late twenties. I never had kids, and it was a bit of a surprise when I realized that's what I wanted to get into as a career..." they begin. A pause follows, reflecting on it, before Doc continues with a bittersweet scoff.

"Anyway, I went and did all the schooling and training. I thought I knew what I was getting into... You know- You know that not every pregnancy ends well. That plenty don't even start well. And you know that, and they go over that in the training...

...But it still doesn't prepare you for the first time you deliver a baby. The first time you deliver a stillborn. The first time a mother flatlines in your care. When you lose both."

Doc pauses again to take a deep, steadying breath. Their face seems to age in real time as they continue, worn with a heaviness that befits a doctor who has seen the births and deaths and struggles of many patients.

"It doesn't prepare you for what you learn about your patients' lives. Society loves to talk about how "exciting" and "happy" a pregnancy is...

...But I have seen the anxiousness of teens hoping their missing period shows up and not a positive pregnancy test. I've seen the scared moms who can't afford another mouth. The ones who fear that, if the pregnancy doesn't kill them, their "partners" will. And they are right to be fearful - statistics reflect that; most homicides of pregnant people are committed by their "partners". Then there's rape victims of all ages - some as young as 8 - dreading a positive test that signals further trauma..."

You nod solemnly, offering slowly, "I've been an anxious teen begging for a negative result. Dodged a bullet that time. I also had a friend who committed suicide in high school after she found out she was pregnant, actually."

Your words sit for a moment before the doctor resumes their journey, but you see their eyes narrow, lips tighten, and they regard you a little differently than they had before. You feel the hairs on your arms raise slightly, but nothing happens.

Doc's tone drops darkly as they sit upright on their cot. "Funny you should say that...

...It was hardest to watch patients who didn't want the pregnancies go through with them. Pregnant teens whose parents wouldn't allow a termination, forcing their kid to put their body through the most demanding thing a human body can go through - against their will, no less. Rape victims with religious backgrounds who knew they didn't want the child, but felt it was their "god's" way of "testing them"...

Married women whose husbands decided for them that she'd have his 5th, 6th, 7th child against her will, even though she was mentally and physically at her wit's end with their current brood. More rape victims whose rapists wanted the births, who were forced - by law - to carry to term and birth those sickos' spawn-

Any wonder most had worse mental health? I lost count of how many committed suicide across the board...

It's amazing how the public cries about life being sacred - until a pregnant individual wants to put their life above a potential baby...

Do you know what an abortion looks like at 5 weeks?"

You sneer. "A baby?"

Doc scoffs. "Hardly. It looks like frog eggs; vomit; a literal clump of cells. Something that gets more or less scraped off from the inside of the uterus and rinsed off of medical tools in seconds. That's what people are valuing over an actual living, sentient human capable of a concept of pain. Even when it starts to form into a tadpole shape, it's not a sentient thing; it has no concept of pain and no concept of life. That fetus didn't consent to birth and life and the only person who can offer consent is the pregnant party, whose body suddenly isn't theirs as far as the public is concerned. A living person is denied their autonomy for what amounts to the biological equivalent of raw cake batter..."

You bristle; about to argue. But again, curiosity gets the better of you, pausing your initial response.

"Can you... What do you mean?"

"The 'cake batter'?" Doc asks, clarifying.

"Yeah. What do you mean?"

"Well, the common phrase is, "a bun in the oven", and the message is more or less the same as far as I'm concerned. But I like the cake batter example better. You put raw cake batter into a heated oven; it starts to form a cake. At any point, you can remove that cake batter, and if it's before the cake has fully formed, it's not a functional cake, is it? Cut or scoop into it and it's still raw and inedible. Doesn't hold together like a cake. Doesn't function as a cake."

"It's still a life..." you remark. Doc's face reddens; you see the rage flash across their face before they unleash a torrent of harsh, witnessed truths.

"Is it? Is it a life worth living when an unwanted pregnancy is birthed?

At best, it's given up for adoption and maybe someone will offer it a good life. Often, that unwanted pregnancy ends in longterm pain. Maybe the parent feels guilted into keeping it by society, but they never wanted it, so the child ends up neglected - because you can't make a parent love an unwanted child. Sometimes they kill the child anyway, because they never wanted it. Isn't it better to remove an unwanted pregnancy when it's something that can be basically scraped out of the body rather than it becoming a fully-conscious being that does have a concept of life and pain, only then to be neglected or killed?

The child that gets brought into an already struggling family? Is it a life worth living when they're starving, because their parent knew they couldn't afford another but wound up forced into keeping it? When the parent is so busy trying to provide, they can't tend to the other needs of their children? Is that a life worth living?

The unexpected, unwanted pregnancy of a teen? Suddenly someone who is still a child is supposed to birth and care for a baby? Don't get me started on how their bodies aren't even ready for the process of birth, typically; I've seen too many broken pelvises from children giving birth! The teen has to sacrifice their future for a child they aren't ready for, may not want, may come to resent? They can't even support themselves, much less a baby. How is that fair to either life?

Speaking of resentment, last but not least we have the unwanted results of rapes. Very few people want to or opt to keep their rapist's spawn. Bad enough to be raped; more so to be pregnant from that rape; even more so to be forced to give birth to your rapist's child and raise the fucking thing, sometimes even "co-parenting" with that fucking rapist! Suicide rates are high in rape cases even before factoring in an unwanted pregnancy and birth from the incident.

Forced birth is forced trauma."

You take in what Doc says, but not fully, remarking, "So, what, you're in for providing abortions?"

Doc smiles in a way that deeply unsettles you, chuckling. "Oh, no. It was legal when and where I practiced that stage of my career. I'll finish telling you why I'm here in a moment - after I've gathered composure. While we're on the subject, though, would you tell me what you're in for?"

You balk and bite your lip; you had expected to answer, but that doesn't mean you are ready.

"Drugs. Using and selling. In for 8 years, but I'm going to try and appeal."

Doc nods knowingly.

"I see... You're such a lying piece of shit."

"What?!" you exclaim, fists balling up.

"I know why you're really in here. I was just reading up on it." Doc picks up the book they've been reading, and your stomach drops. The name of the author is intimately known to you. She has written you many times over the years, absolutely furious.

"Yeah, good mothers tend to carry grudges against the people who rape their child. Especially if it ends up in an unwanted pregnancy and the child commits suicide over it. At least you told the some truth about that. You raped your friend when you were both 15, and she killed herself rather than bear your child.

But that's not all, is it? Let's see, what else did this little morsel reveal?

You said you had a near-miss with an unwanted pregnancy; I take it that was your next victim who was 13 when you were... 19, looks like. You raped her in a church parking lot when she was walking home. There was no rape kit because she didn't come forward for years out of shame, so your going free that time hinged on there not being a pregnancy to DNA test. But she came forward later to testify against you.

No less than 5 reported sexual assaults on peers while you were in college; spiked their drinks - classic! Looks like you even had a little bisexual awakening, since 3 were other men. Little happened at the time and those victims didn't come forward until they were asked to testify at your trial. You even tried to blame what the men were wearing, and said the victims "lead you on", so at least you've got some form of shitty equality bullshit going on there...

Oh yes! Your pregnant girlfriend, Tammy. Strangled to death in your bed shortly after telling you about her pregnancy 6 years ago. All the hallmarks of manual strangulation were there, but - wouldn't you know - you're old pals with the sheriff! The autopsy was changed to suggest it was self-inflicted, but the medical examiner came forward to testify that the sheriff had threatened him into changing the cause of death.

But then, you got really fucking sloppy...

You got caught abusing two corpses in the morgue you worked at - turns out, that was just a small number of them, huh? But you weren't immediately jailed, cause your friend the sheriff bought you some time. What were they wearing that "made" you rape them? How'd they "lead you on"?

And, certainly not least, after your friend the sheriff gave you a little time to hide before the case from the morgue could go through, you went for broke, huh?

Your 3-month old niece? Must've been that diaper - so seductive! But you knew you really fucked up when your sister saw the amount of blood in the diaper after you babysat all day. Your niece didn't survive your assault, and not even your own mother defended you at trial...

Did I miss anything?"

You shake your head, glaring at the doctor.

"Can't prove none of it."

"Oh? Then why are you here?" Doc sneers back. They continue to handle the book as they slowly walk back and forth in front of you, an almost manic look in their eyes now.

"I told you. Drugs."

"Hm... And yet..."

"'And yet' what?!" you snap.

"The reason I'm in here...

After years of deliveries and abortions and witnessing the stripping of bodily autonomy from pregnant people and society putting potential babies over actual living, sentient people and their lives...

Little disgusted or disgusts me more than a useless-ass fucking rapist. Because so many unwanted pregnancies started there, created in absolute trauma. Because rapists think other people's bodies are theirs to play with..."

Now, Doc has fixated on you, and they step slowly towards you, unblinking, as they continue. You step back, but the wall prevents escape.

"So I started playing with rapists' bodies."

A knife slips out from somewhere in the book; when it falls to the ground with a thud, you see there is a space carved out within the pages for the weapon.

"Me and a coworker offered to do "medical exams" in a prison full of rapists - many with laughably short sentences for the atrocities they carried out on other people's bodies. We managed to castrate 35 of the useless fucks that day before we were caught. No anesthesia. We didn't even do it cleanly - more ripped the knives through than anything. Quite satisfying, actually...

Anna - my cohort - even went above and beyond to make sure nothing could be reattached. Really hard to come back from being put through a meat grinder. She got an extra life sentence for grilling it up and feeding it to the other inmates at lunch before anyone in control realized what we had done. I almost had number 36... Guess the rapists didn't like unwanted dick in their bodies, either."

"Y-you're fucking nuts... HELP! GUARD! CRAZY FUCK HAS A KNIFE!"

"Oh, you really think Ralph's gonna come to your rescue? Stupid fuck, why do you think they brought you here to bunk with me?"

Doc closes in, the knife pressing sharp against the very things they threaten to remove, a hand going to your neck...

You wake up some time later in agonizing pain. Your head aches where you hit it after passing out from shock. A shadow falls over you and you crane your head back to see.

"Had fun playing doctor, Doc?" asks Ralph, calm and unbothered at the sight of you prone, bloodied, and emasculated.

"Always! Such a treat!" Doc says cheerfully from their cot, reading a new book.

"I'll report the "unfortunate incident" after lunch. Maybe he'll bleed out before I get back." Ralph says, starting to walk off. Doc calls after him.

"Better get the vegan option; Anna's serving fresh meat today!"

Thank you for your time! If you enjoyed, please consider following for free, checking out more of my works, or sending a tip for my efforts! I appreciate it!

Playlist for this piece.

Other dark works by me on Vocal:

"Three Shots" - Runner-up in the "Last Call" challenge featuring a hesitant hitman pulling off one last hit.

"Unwise Gossip" - Children are going missing. Mateo's wife is suspected to be a witch taking the children, and after she is nowhere to be found after a house fire, Mateo is left to contend with her absence. Pity he's such a careless man, but he gets what's coming to him.

"Swallowed Screams Aboard the Screaming Agony" - Needed a content warning before there were content warnings on Vocal, a story that has been called "brutal" by peers on Vocal. Aboard a vessel on a space mission, an unexpected and unwanted birth explore the idea that "no one can hear you scream in space". Timely in 2026.