Apologies for the late post. Please enjoy! ~
The odd-numbered parts, all the way up to Part Thirteen, can be found at The Devil's Advocate. ~
Part Fourteen
I awoke in a bed. Glancing around, I spotted white gloves, like the kind that doctors wore, laying in the corner of the room. The pain in my body had been replaced by a heavy pulsing in my head.
Amidst my confusion, I heard the sound of a high pitched cry emanating from a chair across the room. As I turned my throbbing head to the chair, I saw the Lucifer holding a bundle swathed in blankets, and I struggled to rise.
"It's a boy," the cold, clear voice rang out as I sat up on my bed. I held out my hands for the child, anticipation at seeing his face giving me strength, but he did not carry my boy to my side. Instead, he stood up and walk out of my room. With a Herculean effort, I scrambled after Lucifer, wanting to hold my baby to my breast, but he continued on, nary a pause in his long, purposeful strides.
"Please... please, just let me hold my child!" I begged, crawling after him. He paused and stood there, his back to me.
I finally reached him and leaned up to grasp his jacket. "Please..."
He turned around. In his arms, I saw a tiny bundle which was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on. An angelic face peeked out back at me. My eyes alight with wonder, I held out a hand, wanting to touch my baby's cheek. He smiled at me, his tiny hands clutched into fists.
Suddenly, a sharp boot kicked me in the side. Gasping, I fell to the floor, my head hitting the wall and blood spurting from my newly cut lip. I cried out in pain, and my baby began howling. I felt a maternal instinct to comfort him, to hold him close and to soothe him, but I saw that Lucifer had turned around again and was continuing his stride towards the front door.
"Lucifer!"
The word escaped from my mouth. He stopped again and turned around, training his cold gaze on me. At that moment, I knew in my heart that this monster was taking my infant away from me. Fear gripped my soul, not for myself, but for that tiny figure still crying in Lucifer's arms. Then, without another look back at me, Lucifer left, locking the door behind him.
I ran to it, pounding with all my force at the door, screaming for him to come back, to stop. But all I heard was the sound of rain hitting the roof, and his boots as they crunched on the gravel, carrying away what I loved most.
There was a dull ache where my heart had once been. I felt lifeless. If Lucifer's actions before had seemed terrible, they were absolutely devilish now. He told me later, emotionless, that he had sold our child. I had long since cried myself out, though it hadn't helped to reduce my pain in the slightest.
The time had come for us to return to the Rothschilds' manor. The carriage ride back was utterly silent, with Lucifer sleeping while I looked outside the window, finding no more joy in the beauty of the nature that surrounded me.
We entered the town in late afternoon. The streets were crowded with people: men in top hats busily heading to important places, children running around, and women bustling about to purchase goods.
A commotion drew my attention. I saw a woman wearing dirty rags, her face streaked with tears, holding a bundle in her arms. I knew that a baby was in there, and my heart gripped at the recollection of a similar bundle which had belonged to myself.
Two guards with spears were confronting the woman, shouting at her and gesturing menacingly with their arms. The woman refused to let go of her baby, shielding it instead with her body. The guards advanced, and I reached out a hand, instinctively wanting to help the poor woman. She stood her ground, her eyes blazing with anger and defiance. The guards took no heed, however, for one of them wrenched the child from her. She screamed, and even through the carriage, I heard the agony I knew so well in that sound. She lunged forward, hitting the guard with her fists. Then, as if in slow motion, I saw the other guard raise his spear, and before I could even call out a warning, he plunged it into her defenseless breast.
Blood gushed everywhere. People screamed. I didn't realize it, but I was screaming as well. I wanted to jump out the carriage and help her, but suddenly I felt cold hands gripping my waist. Lucifer's lips were moving, but I couldn't here anything he was saying. That terrible scene was still vivid in my mind.
Don't forget to check out Part Fifteen tomorrow at The Devil's Advocate. We are beginning the end. ~
The odd-numbered parts, all the way up to Part Thirteen, can be found at The Devil's Advocate. ~
Part Fourteen
I awoke in a bed. Glancing around, I spotted white gloves, like the kind that doctors wore, laying in the corner of the room. The pain in my body had been replaced by a heavy pulsing in my head.
Amidst my confusion, I heard the sound of a high pitched cry emanating from a chair across the room. As I turned my throbbing head to the chair, I saw the Lucifer holding a bundle swathed in blankets, and I struggled to rise.
"It's a boy," the cold, clear voice rang out as I sat up on my bed. I held out my hands for the child, anticipation at seeing his face giving me strength, but he did not carry my boy to my side. Instead, he stood up and walk out of my room. With a Herculean effort, I scrambled after Lucifer, wanting to hold my baby to my breast, but he continued on, nary a pause in his long, purposeful strides.
"Please... please, just let me hold my child!" I begged, crawling after him. He paused and stood there, his back to me.
I finally reached him and leaned up to grasp his jacket. "Please..."
He turned around. In his arms, I saw a tiny bundle which was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on. An angelic face peeked out back at me. My eyes alight with wonder, I held out a hand, wanting to touch my baby's cheek. He smiled at me, his tiny hands clutched into fists.
Suddenly, a sharp boot kicked me in the side. Gasping, I fell to the floor, my head hitting the wall and blood spurting from my newly cut lip. I cried out in pain, and my baby began howling. I felt a maternal instinct to comfort him, to hold him close and to soothe him, but I saw that Lucifer had turned around again and was continuing his stride towards the front door.
"Lucifer!"
The word escaped from my mouth. He stopped again and turned around, training his cold gaze on me. At that moment, I knew in my heart that this monster was taking my infant away from me. Fear gripped my soul, not for myself, but for that tiny figure still crying in Lucifer's arms. Then, without another look back at me, Lucifer left, locking the door behind him.
I ran to it, pounding with all my force at the door, screaming for him to come back, to stop. But all I heard was the sound of rain hitting the roof, and his boots as they crunched on the gravel, carrying away what I loved most.
There was a dull ache where my heart had once been. I felt lifeless. If Lucifer's actions before had seemed terrible, they were absolutely devilish now. He told me later, emotionless, that he had sold our child. I had long since cried myself out, though it hadn't helped to reduce my pain in the slightest.
The time had come for us to return to the Rothschilds' manor. The carriage ride back was utterly silent, with Lucifer sleeping while I looked outside the window, finding no more joy in the beauty of the nature that surrounded me.
We entered the town in late afternoon. The streets were crowded with people: men in top hats busily heading to important places, children running around, and women bustling about to purchase goods.
A commotion drew my attention. I saw a woman wearing dirty rags, her face streaked with tears, holding a bundle in her arms. I knew that a baby was in there, and my heart gripped at the recollection of a similar bundle which had belonged to myself.
Two guards with spears were confronting the woman, shouting at her and gesturing menacingly with their arms. The woman refused to let go of her baby, shielding it instead with her body. The guards advanced, and I reached out a hand, instinctively wanting to help the poor woman. She stood her ground, her eyes blazing with anger and defiance. The guards took no heed, however, for one of them wrenched the child from her. She screamed, and even through the carriage, I heard the agony I knew so well in that sound. She lunged forward, hitting the guard with her fists. Then, as if in slow motion, I saw the other guard raise his spear, and before I could even call out a warning, he plunged it into her defenseless breast.
Blood gushed everywhere. People screamed. I didn't realize it, but I was screaming as well. I wanted to jump out the carriage and help her, but suddenly I felt cold hands gripping my waist. Lucifer's lips were moving, but I couldn't here anything he was saying. That terrible scene was still vivid in my mind.
Don't forget to check out Part Fifteen tomorrow at The Devil's Advocate. We are beginning the end. ~
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