Subconscious Cruelty Page #3

As the time of revelation

grew nearer...

...I would continue to observe her

and tend to her every need.

My sister and her child almost

becoming iconic figures to me.

Symbols that were

made of warm flesh.

I would constantly go over the instructions

that I read on the birthing process.

Meticulously studying the old books that

were left in this house years ago...

...by some unknown

former lodger.

I only learnt from them

the most trivial minor things.

Just enough to make

her think all is well.

That she was safe in the

company of her own blood.

It makes me laugh when I think of

all the preparation I went through.

The towels, the antiseptics...

All the necessary elements

were in place to placate any fears.

I certainly know what I'm doing...

And I know what I have to do.

It's one in the morning...

and my sister screams.

Contractions are beginning,

just like they're supposed to.

She cries when I set up

in front of the bed.

Her preliminary motions

continuing over a period of time.

My sister trusts me all the way...

...giving herself completely

to my instructions.

I feel a small little tingle

in my head...

...and I envision my deed

about to be performed.

Indeed... I will create the greatest

mockery of the birthing process.

Destroy it and everything it stands for

with passion and intensity.

I will be my own god.

This thought is soothing and comforting.

It makes me confident.

Just as I begin to get lost

in my inner dialogs...

...the woman begins to push

with all her might.

Yelling and screaming as her vagina

widens to hideous extremes.

The oddity of the situation

is incredible.

She's experiencing the ultimate sex...

The climax of creation.

The child, male or female, is having

total body sex with its mother...

Penetrated into to her orifice and body

further than any penis could ever go.

She pushes once more and

the face begins to appear.

Strangely fish-like features

etched on its skull...

...seeming almost generic

and mass-produced.

No expression or emotion rages

on the child's phlegm-drenched mask.

It looks like a flesh-sculpture.

Another push and

the child's neck appears.

A sudden shudder of anticipation and

adrenalin rips through my body.

And I realize... it's almost time.

Yes... the time is near.

I powerfully rip the

baby's lower body...

...out of her impossibly

stretched orifice.

The woman's blood now flowing

along with her child's life-fluid.

It was a boy.

The woman's eyes

are so wide in shock...

...that they look like

they're about to explode.

Now... indeed, as I've

always believed...

...I know what the

true face of terror is.

Know the furthest that one

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