Fetal Possession

“You’re pregnant!”

For recently married couple Dina and Dean Rawlings, this was century-worth headlining news. It honestly came as more of a relief rather a shock or pleasant surprise, given how long they tried, and many minutes later, looking at trees and houses whip by from the passenger seat, Dina was ecstatic. She was overwhelmed with joy. After all the tests, after those almost idiotic “try-at-home” methods, they were finally starting a family.

The coming month was rough for Dina. She woke nearly every morning either vomiting or just on the edge of doing so. She found it nearly impossible to keep any foods or liquids down. If not for the one brand of smoothies, with some fruits mixed in of her own choice, that she found, Dina would’ve lost the baby. It started like any other normal pregnancy.

Dina’s first strange symptom appeared midway through the second month. In the bathroom late one evening after trying to eat a real plate of dinner instead of another shake, Dina was on her knees after having thrown up. She looked to the bile in the toilet, spreading across the water in the bowl with slithering tendrils, and winced at the chunks of food floating there. A fierce fire burned in the back of her throat, and as Dina looked up from the toxic water, she focused on the taste in her mouth. It was strong, pungent, and it tasted nothing like the dinner she attempted to eat. It was similar to the sulfur-like stench of rotten eggs, and running her tongue across the roof of her mouth, Dina began to gag as she doubled over the toilet once more. Another stream of terrible bile shooting from her lips.

Month three was more of the same as the first two. More only being able to drink those shakes that at this point were putrid for Dina. There were so many moments she was hanging onto the toilet with a shaky embrace, having just thrown up or about to, that they all blurred into one continuous montage in Dina’s mind, and each passing time, the sulfuric taste became stronger. It would continue to linger after Dina was finally able to leave the bathroom sometimes, and for the last two weeks of that month, Dina scoured website after website, spent hour after hour in chatrooms, even spoke to her OBGYN about it, trying to figure out if that taste, if what she was experiencing, was normal. If anyone else went through the same thing, and came up with nothing. By the end of that month, Dina felt like she was slowly tumbling to the unseen bottom of an abyssal pit. Rolling over and over into the banging kickoff of the second trimester and everything it brought along.

Dina became increasingly aggressive over the next couple of weeks. At first, she thought it was from a mere fluctuation of hormones. The mood changes that occurred were almost bipolar though. One minute she would be teeming with excitement, and the next, it would be the darkest few seconds of her life. Dina’s entire world would shatter each day over the tiniest things, and it was worse with sex. She would want Dean one second, they would be in the middle of it all, down and dirty in the sweat and romance, then it would quickly change. She would pull away, turning her back towards the man Dina pledged her life to, and would usually fall asleep. Dean left in the dark as he wondered whether or not his wife wanted him anymore.

When the boat sailed in, docking in month five, Dean began to take notice of the abnormalities as well. Those mood swings that Dina had more likely than not ended in physical confrontation, and she would lock herself in the bedroom for hours after those conflicts, yelling, screaming, sometimes even roaring with burning fury. When she would leave a room, there would be a lingering smell of sulfur strong enough to make the nose curl, and as Dina grew more violent, the height being when she tried to claw out his eyes, Dean became exponentially concerned. For Dina of course, but for the unborn child as well. He began to look into all the various complications that can arise in pregnancy, and when Dean found nothing at all, no explanation as to why Dina was going through this Hell, he turned to the only other thing he knew. Dean turned to God.

It was two old high school friends that Dean got in contact with. Both of which he knew were priests, and were devout Christians, unlike himself who only had faith. They had for no reason at all been expecting to hear from their old friend, but that didn’t stop them from listening with concern as Dean spoke frantically on the other end of the line. It didn’t stop them from making the trip out to L.A. in order to see firsthand what Dean spoke of, and by the time they made it, the situation had reached anything beyond the earthly plane. Dina’s left eye was a solid black color. Her hair ragged, frizzy, and her clothes filthy. Her skin was as pale as the sweat stained sheet that Dina sat on, and there were long, self-inflicted scratches running up her inner left arm. She was speaking in tongues of Latin, damning the two priests to Hell, threatening to rip off their heads as they stood at the foot of the bed, and when they left the room, praying before doing so, despite the unorthodox situation of the unborn child being possessed, they offered to help Dean. Offered to help Dina and the baby.

Dean watched as day after day, Dina got worse after the priests left. The right eye had started to blacken around the edges. She was now speaking in a deep-throat rasp, and talked endlessly of all the horrible things she would do. From eating children, to slaying the elderly, to strangling her own child with the cord. He began to wonder if they actually could help.

At the beginning of the ninth month, Dean almost broke. Dina had progressed to a point beyond being called human. Most of what came out of her mouth was incoherent babbling, and what could be understood was rife with bloodshed. Both of her eyes were now solid black, the scratches now covered her arms, legs, and stomach, and the rare seconds that Dina was herself, she pleaded with him to end it all. To smother her with the pillow. To send her soul away, and it pained Dean to see her like this. It tore at his heart, but there was nothing he could do. Not until the birthing of the child when the demon would be at its weakest, and even then, all he would be able to do is sit idly by.

“Pass me that crucifix in the bag Dean,” Father Samuels screamed over all the chaos happening in the bedroom.

For a series of moments, Dean forgot where he was. He was so caught up in the memories of the last nine months, that he drowned out the flashing lights. The horrid roars that came from his wife. He drowned out the image of her struggling against the blessed ropes binding her to the bed. He forgot about the rushing wind, swirling in an angry twister even though none of the windows were open, the rocking of the bed as it lifted and fell repeatedly only half an inch from the floor, and as he came to, he looked to Father Samuels.

“The crucifix,” Samuels yelled, “I need it now!”

Dean kicked himself into gear. This may be the only chance to save his wife, his unborn child, and he would never forgive himself for screwing it up. He quickly rushed over, dropped to his knees and began to rummage through the bag. Above him, Samuels was reading from a book, holding a rosary out over the bed, and to the right of the mattress, Father Cochran was dousing Dina with droplets of holy water here and there. Against the flashing light, Dean struggled for a moment to find the crucifix, and his heart began to pound. He was about to ruin it all, and just when he was close to finally throwing in the towel, to breaking down because he couldn’t help his wife by doing so little as grabbing a crucifix from the bag on the floor, he seized the hard metal edge of the cross.

“Here!”

Samuels grasped the crucifix, and leaned down close over Dina, he put the crucifix nearly on her stomach, and screamed the final incantation with force.

“Adjure te, spiritus nequissime, per Deum omnipotentem!”

The bulb overhead shattered, and the family doctor delivering the child flinched as shards of glass landed on him. The roars that were coming deep from within Dina ceased, and her body fell still. In the dark, the doctor continued to work. Able to see by what bit of moonlight shone through the window, and once the child was out, he stood. The still, silent infant in his arms. The chaos stopped. The air seemed to fall still, and in the silence, Dina stirred awake.

“My baby,” she said weakly, “I want to see my baby.”

The doctor was hesitant, but still, would never disregard the request of a patient. Slowly, he stepped forward.

“Please give me my baby.”

Dina’s heart stopped as the still, motionless lump was handed to her. She propped herself against the head of the bed, and looked through the moonlight to see her child’s face. There was no breathing. There was no crying. Just pure, hateful silence.

“What is wrong,” Dina asked, panic rising in her voice, “what happened to my baby? Why isn’t it crying?”

“Dina,” Father Samuels said, his voice comforting, I’m sorry.”

Dina began to weep as she leaned all the way over her child. After everything, the family that she wanted, the family that Dean wanted, was still a hollow dream.

“Please come back…….”

Suddenly, in the darkness, the infant began to wail and cry. Kick and scream, and tightly, to this memory as well as the miraculous child, Dina held on.