Ch 20 What is real?
I'm floating effortlessly in a black starless sky. There is something pressing on my mind, but I don't know what. Something urgent is happening somewhere, but I can't place it and I almost don't care. For a few seconds I try to remember what it was that was so important, but then the effort becomes too much and I give up. I float for an unidentifiable length of time. It could be minutes or hours, I'm not sure.
I look around, but there is nothing but blackness surrounding me. There are no lights or shadows or anything…in fact, I'm not even sure if my eyes are open or not and I have no way to tell. I begin rolling in the nothingness, floating free of gravity but rolling head over feet until I begin to feel so dizzy that I might vomit.
Suddenly, I am sucked backward and all around me is a white light so bright that I can see nothing. Finally it begins to fade, and I see that I am back on the table. Lying there, conscious but not awake. Everyone around me is panicked. No one looks at my face to see if I am aware. They all think I am under the anesthesia, but am I? I don't know for sure.
I crane my neck to see where they are all looking, past the curtain to my abdomen. There is a gaping hole there. My flesh has been ripped away, torn from the inside. And there is nothing remaining. No intestines, no stomach, no liver…No uterus…No baby!
I move to lift myself higher, but no one even notices my movements. They are all filled with terror and now they are all looking around the room.
"Where is he?" Jasmine screams, and then I see a flash of something dart from one corner of the room to another.
"There!" yells Megan. Michael sprints, so fast I can barely see him, to the edge of the room and crouches. He scans the floor, as if searching for prey. He swivels at a movement, but it is too fast for even him to react.
Alexander, standing at the foot of the table, jumps several feet straight up into the air raising his arms above him and bringing his hands together. But they do not grasp their target, and instead he drops to the floor with empty, blood streaked hands.
"Rolf!" Jasmine shrieks, as a tiny flare shoots from the side of the room and smashes into Rolf's chest, knocking him over. I lean over the edge of the table, still unnoticed, to see Rolf's blood stained chest. Blood spurts from a wide gash in his neck, and the source of the wound is still there feeding on him.
Covered in half dried, dark red blood. A foot long section of umbilical cord still attached. My baby is killing his father.