Corrupted (Solo)

by **Minerva Agatha Zipporah** on August 13th, 2012, 3:01 am

Disclaimer :

85th Day of Summer, 512 AV
(Begins immediately after the events of Life & Death.)

Tock couldn't watch as they wrapped Mikey's body up in a sheet. The fancy special robes people from the fish ceremony came to take him away. Tock just stood there, clutching Dira to her chest, head lowered, mind numb and filled with cotton. No one spoke to her. They didn't seem to know how to comfort her. But she didn't WANT to be comforted.

She wasn't ready to admit he was gone yet.

After Mikey's body... his old body, was taken away, Tock stalked from the room. One of the doctors tried to approach her, saying, "Tock, we should talk. The funeral..."

She just kept walking, without even glancing at the man. She wasn't going to the funeral. She had work to do...

She went straight to the store and bought a cloak, cap, and some cheap make-up; then she hurried home and changed clothes, tossing the ones she'd been wearing for the last few days in the corner. She gathered up a few things, shoving what she needed into her backpack without really giving it much thought. She had a vague idea what she needed to do, but no real plan. She was good at improvising, though.

She pulled the new cap over her head, tucking her hair up into it as best she could. She adjusted it until no red was showing, checking her reflection in a scrap of metal. Then she did what she could to disguise her appearance, applying make-up without any skill. She'd only ever worn make-up once in her whole life, and didn't really know how to apply it right. But it didn't matter; just wearing make-up would make it hard for anyone to tell it was her. She painted her lips, applied some color around her eyes, and added a touch of rosiness to her cheeks. She rubbed some dark coloration over her eyebrows to temporarily make them look brown. When she was done, the result wasn't exactly expert, nor very attractive... but it would help stop anyone from recognizing her.

She pulled on the new cloak and raised the hood, concealing herself even further. She kept Grippy and Handy tucked away in her backpack out of sight. She was never seen walking through the city without the reaching tool holstered on her hip, or the wooden hand somewhere on her. No one could possibly recognize her.

She told the rest of her babies, "Stop." They froze in place. They'd remain, motionless, in her house until she got back.

Wearing a dark expression, and ignoring the protests in the back of her mind, she left, locked up, and headed towards the docks.

Ledger :

by **Minerva Agatha Zipporah** on August 13th, 2012, 4:29 am

Tock moved up and down the docks for a time, staking out a few boats. When she spotted a possible candidate, she found someplace out of the way nearby, and watched. She had spent enough time down here making repairs on the docks to know the layout pretty well, and it was easy to find a stack of crates to lurk behind, or an empty pier to sit on without drawing much attention. She tried her best to be subtle, not wanting to be seen as 'sneaking about,' since that would look suspicious. She just acted casual, like she was out for a stroll, or taking a rest by sitting on some crates.

There were a bunch of large ships setting sail, bound for Abura or Sahova. But those were no good. She needed something smaller.

She spotted some more likely vessels. Small ones, like Sailor Man had sailed. She paused nearby each time she spotted one, leaning casually against a post, or sitting off to the side as she watched the vessels. Some were unloading goods... small shipments for a small vessel, likely the minor sort of trade that the sailors made their living off of. She didn't know much about commerce or trade, but the sale of the amount of goods that fit in a small sailing vessel would probably support a family for some weeks at a time, maybe up to a season if they were high priced goods.

One that was just unloading wouldn't do her any good, though. She moved on, searching out other vessels. She moved slowly along the docks, eying each ship she passed, studying the sailors and passengers moving to and fro. Most were too old, or too fat, or just not right for her needs. Some of the slightly larger sailing vessels had too many people, crewed by a dozen sailors together. That was more than she could handle.

Hours passed, with some ships setting sail, and others coming in. The docks were a constant flurry of activity, and there was never a pause. But everyone was busy, carrying goods to and from their ships, checking passenger manifests, negotiating deals, and generally going about their daily business. They didn't have any reason to worry about one cloaked girl, minding her own business, just out for a stroll...

by **Minerva Agatha Zipporah** on August 13th, 2012, 5:38 am

Finally, she spotted something that caught her attention. A small family, Svefra from the looks of them. They first drew her eye when she heard a yelp, and turned to see a middle-aged man, who she presumed to be the father, had just struck his son.

She grit her teeth, and gripped the dagger on her belt. Things like this always brought bad memories back. She flinched slightly as she saw her father's face above her, his fists swinging, his drunken screams ringing in her ears. She shook the image off, watching the father and his son. The man was shouting something, and pointing towards their boat, a casinor. The boy, perhaps ten years old, turned and hurried off. Tock couldn't make out the words the father was shouting, but the boy immediately grabbed a small box, and carried it onto the boat. A moment later, he returned for another, taking it down into the bowels of the small sailing vessel. They seemed to be packing up, getting ready to set sail.

Tock moved closer, keeping her head down, watching from a safe distance. When she got a bit closer, she heard a sound... a sound she associated with the darker alleys of Sunberth. The sound of a woman's fake moans. The voice sounded quite young. She passed by a stack of crates, her eyes scanning the makeshift wall they formed. An ideal hiding place.

Not long after, she spotted a teenaged girl with dark Svefra skin stepping out from behind the crates, adjusting her skirt back into place. A man followed shortly after, lacing up his pants, and handing the girl a handful of coins. Her eyes narrowed, and she watched the man hurry off, looking typically guilty. She let him go; a man couldn't be blamed for his urges, and at least he had the courtesy to pay for what he wanted, instead of taking it by force. She didn't care who the man was or where he went; likely enough he was just some sailor, who bought himself a bit of companionship in every port.

The girl, however, she watched. Girls like that, with no self-respect, selling their virtue to any man with a heavy enough purse... She scowled, shaking her head. The girl moved over to the father and son, confirming she was part of the same family. A bit closer now, Tock was able to make out the father's angry shouts as he asked her where she'd been, and ordered her to help her brother pack things up. When she made some excuses, blatant lies, she was treated to a hard smack across the face.

Part of Tock felt the girl deserved it. Part of her had sympathy. The girl's behavior was shameful, and she deserved to be taught a lesson. But no father should strike his children.

She lurked nearby, watching for a bit longer. The teenaged girl and her younger brother worked to load the boat, and the father wandered off. She tailed him for a moment, still acting as if she were just out for a stroll. She spotted him approaching a woman, old enough to maybe be the children's mother. They were talking to some merchant. She stepped close enough to overhear the details; a delivery to Sunberth, meant for someone who's name she didn't catch. A private job. A boat the size of the one she'd seen could travel along the coast to Sunberth, a journey of a few weeks. Money changed hands, a downpayment for whatever small cargo they were delivering. She missed the specifics of what, nor did she care.

This would do. This would do quite nicely.

She hurried back to the boat, keeping an eye to either side, making sure no one was focused on her. It was getting late in the afternoon, though there was still a fair bit of daylight left. She stood at the edge of the pier, leaning against a post, watching the children finish loading their goods. The boy climbed up to the bow, peering out into the distance at one of the larger ships setting sail. The girl was still down in the small cabin.

Tock moved in.

Her heart was pounding, and she glanced to the nearby piers. No one was paying attention to her. She was just another traveler, just another faceless passerby. She climbed aboard, down into the cabin, and rushed at the girl the moment she was inside. The young, dark face looked up at her in surprise, eyes widening in fear.

by **Minerva Agatha Zipporah** on August 13th, 2012, 6:08 am

Tock swung a fist for the girl's jaw. A father hitting his daughter was one thing, her hitting a stranger, a whore was something else. She felt no guilt. The girl yelped, falling back, and Tock grabbed her. Dagger in hand, she pushed the girl forward, pinning her against the cabin wall and raising her dagger to the girl's throat.

"Make one sound," she told her, staring the girl down with pure, deadly rage, "an' I slit yer bloody throat, aye?"

Trembling, wide eyed, the girl opened her mouth. Tock pressed the blade against her skin, and all that escaped the girl's throat was a whimper before she nodded. She shut her mouth, silent, and Tock flipped the girl around onto her belly, pinning her on one of the beds in the cabin. "Not a sound!" she whispered fiercely. The girl whimpered, and Tock planted her boot against her back, pressing her down. She grabbed a scarf off a nearby hook, then sat down on the girl's back, pinning her down. The girl was too frightened to struggle as Tock tied her hands tightly behind her.

She tied her hands as tight as she could, not caring one bit if it hurt. Then she grabbed a fistful of the girl's hair and hauled her up, spinning her around. Tock held her from behind, raising the dagger to her throat. "Now we wait," she said. "Nice an' quiet, aye? Whaz Dad gonna does when 'e gets on board?"

The girl just whimpered, tears falling down her dark tanned cheeks. Tock shook her and asked in a growl, "Whazz'e does when 'e gets 'ere!?"

"S-s-s-s-sends Kalai and me down below," she stammered, starting to sob. "Mama comes down to make dinner."

"Dad stays up above?" Tock asked, sneering in the girl's ear. She just nodded, biting her lip to keep her sobs inside. "Good," Tock said, pulling the girl into the corner.

She pushed the girl down on her knees, keeping the knife at her throat. She dug around until she found a scrap of cloth, and shoved it into the whore's mouth. Then she waited. Silent. Heart hammering in her chest. She wasn't thinking. Wasn't considering what she was doing. A part of her was screaming, stop stop stop stop stop! But she pounded the voice down. She ignored the sick churning in her stomach. Her mind was too clouded for clear thoughts.

She heard sound up on the deck. The parents returning. The father shouted, "Boy, get down off there! Get your ass down below!" Tock tensed. Waiting. The girl on her knees was shaking. Crying. Tock pressed a hand over the gag in her mouth, keeping her as silent as possible.

The boy came down the stairs into the cabin. Tock grabbed him, and pulled him against her chest, clamping her hand down over his mouth. "Shhhhhhhh," she whispered in his ear. "Dun bloody move, o' I swear ta Laviku, I's gut yer sister an' bleed 'er all over the floor 'ere, aye?"

The boy panicked, gasping for air. Tock shifted her grip, using her knee to press the girl into the corner, out of sight of the stairs that led to the deck. The pressed the dagger into the sister's throat, tightening her grip on the brother. "Ya want yer sister dead?" she whispered in the boy's ear. He shook his head no, frantic, crying his poor little eyes out. He kind of looked like Mikey.

"'En be quiet," Tock whispered in his ear. "Be a good little boy. An' everythin's been fine..." She loosened her grip a bit. Gentle. Caring. She didn't want to hurt the boy. Didn't want him damaged.

Sounds from above. Tock tensed, keeping the girl pinned against the wall, the boy held against her chest. Her eyes watched the ceiling of the cabin, her ears focused on the sounds above, picking out where on deck the parents were. She heard the familiar sounds of ropes being unslung, sails unfurled. Just like four years ago, on Pash'nar's boat. The wood creaked as the boat was pushed off from the dock. The parents were both above, working together to get the boat sailing.

Long moments passed, the boat quiet except for the lapping of the water against the wooden hull, the footsteps up above, and the whimpering and soft crying of the children. Tock didn't move. She just waited.

Eventually, she heard the father yell, "Go on and start dinner!" He was so rude. Clearly in charge of his family. Ruling over them. Just like her own worthless Da. She wondered if he drank. If he cared what his daughter did on the docks. Hell, he probably kept the money she earned from whoring herself.

Mother came down below. Before the woman realized what was going on, Tock told her, "Ya gots real nice kids here, Sheila. Ya wanna see 'em live, ya bloody well does what I says..."

The woman turned, gasping, covering her mouth with her hands. Then she opened her mouth to scream, and Tock quickly said, "Ya scream, she dies!" She dug her dagger into the daughter's throat, drawing a thick line of blood. The mother covered her mouth again, cutting off her scream. She looked about ready to faint. "Sit down," Tock ordered her. The woman, frozen with shock, didn't move. Tock growled, and slashed her dagger across the daughter's cheek. "Sit!"

The mother sat. Tock stared her down. She didn't know what the mother saw reflected in Tock's eyes. What madness was there. But whatever it was, it made the woman's face pale. Softly, gently, Tock whispered, "We keeps on goin', til we's past the docks. 'En we's all gunna sit up on deck wit' Dad, aye? All o' us is 'avin' a nice sail. Right up the coast, aye?" The mother could only faintly nod, in fear for the lives of her children. Tock gave her what she thought was a reassuring smile. "Dun worry. I's a Mommy, too. I gots babies. An' I ain't gonna 'urt yers... long as ya does what I says, aye?"

For some reason, the woman didn't seem at all reassured.

by **Minerva Agatha Zipporah** on August 15th, 2012, 12:26 am

Tock had Handy hold the dagger on the daughter's throat so she could tie everyone else up. Once both her children were tied, the mother didn't put up any resistance. Her eyes never left the magical hand that was holding her daughter hostage, knowing that one wrong move would see her child's blood spilled all over the floor. She had also seen how Handy responded to Tock's voice when she handed him the dagger and told him what to do, and thus knew that the Automaton could commit murder with no more than a single word from his creator.

The father was easy to control, once his whole family was held hostage. When he had the ship secured for sailing and came down to find out why his dinner wasn't ready yet, he found Tock holding a kitchen knife to his son's throat, Handy still securing the daughter, and Grippy extended across the room with his metal claw clamped around the mother's neck. Tock could easily kill all three of them at the same time, and thus she had no trouble getting the man to be obedient.

She moved everyone up to the deck, and they settled in for the ride, so she could keep an eye on where they were going and make sure the father didn't try to change course. "Jus' keep goin' up the coast," she told him. "I's tell ya when ta stop..."

"What do you want?" he asked her, glaring murderously at her. Tock stared him down, cold, uncaring. She brushed her thumb across Grippy's handle to tighten his grip on the mother's throat, her painful whimper urging the man back into silence.

"I want ya ta shut yet bleedin' mouth," she told him, "an' sail the petchin' ship. Ya sass me, an' I swear by the Gods I'll snap 'er bloody neck..." She wasn't bluffing, either. He saw it in her eyes. Just this morning she had lost someone precious to her. And she was ready to take what was precious to this man, if he tried to interfere with her plan to get him back.

They sailed for several hours, until Tock was confident they were far enough from the city to avoid any unwanted attention. "Take us closer ta the coast," she told the man. "Find a place ta tie off..."

It took some time to find a landing point along the rocky coastline, but eventually they pulled in to a small beach between some tall cliffs. The Zeltivan forests that filled the surrounding mountains could be seen beyond the beach, just a short walk. It was nice and private.

She ordered the father to climb off to the beach, and tie a line around a boulder. Once the boat was secured, he climbed back on and told her, "There. Now let my family go..."

He looked into her eyes, and as he stared into those cold brown orbs, he must have realized that she had no intention of letting any of them go.

by **Minerva Agatha Zipporah** on August 15th, 2012, 12:49 am

When Tock made Handy, she had needed him to perform some basic functions that her broken right hand couldn't do for a few weeks. While not extremely intelligent, he knew the basic uses of most of her tools. He knew how to lift and carry things for her. And when she wasn't able to handle a knife and fork for herself, he had wielded those utensils in her place.

Tock had never thought cold-blooded murder would be as simple as speaking the word, "Cut."

The Svefra father screamed and rushed at her as Handy started slicing into the girl's neck like she was a piece of fish. She struggled as her blood spilled down her chest, the Automaton obeying his Mother without question or hesitation. She hadn't programmed him to understand life and death, nor to care about violence or moral questions of right and wrong. He couldn't be blamed for the murder any more than the dagger itself could. Both were just tools, being wielded by a madwoman.

Her thumb across Grippy's handle caused him to tighten around the mother's throat, starting to choke her. The father rushed in, and Tock slashed the kitchen knife at him. In a rage he knocked it aside, swinging his fists at her in a furious attempt to save the lives of his beloved family. The knife flew from Tock's hand and clattered on the deck, and she fell backwards to dodge the blow. Her arm fell near Handy, and on instinct, he wrapped his tail around her wrist. As the father continued to advance on her, Tock brought her hand around, gripping the dagger along with Handy in a two-handed grip, one hand of flesh the other of wood, both sprouting from the same wrist. She slashed across his face, but took a blow to the stomach in the process.

With Tock off balance, she wasn't able to maintain leverage with Grippy, and the mother broke free from his strangle-hold. She rushed to her children, though the daughter was already limp, the life fleeing from her as her blood spilled onto the deck. Desperate to save at least one of her children, the mother screamed and tore the bindings from her hands with her teeth, freeing herself in a surge of adrenaline-fueled strength. She grabbed her boy in trembling arms and ran, jumping off the boat and fleeing across the beach as fast as she could go, crying out for someone, anyone to help. But there was no one around for miles and miles. No one but the innocent family, and the insane Animator.

by **Minerva Agatha Zipporah** on August 15th, 2012, 1:38 am

Enraged, the father swung again. Tock fell backwards, almost falling over the boat's railing. Since Grippy had lost his grip on the mother, Tock clamped him down over one of the ropes that held the sails in place, retracting the metal arm to pull herself back up. In the same motion she kicked both feet out, connecting with the man's stomach as she pulled herself back onto the deck. As he stumbled back, she shifted Grippy and aimed him upwards, clamping his claw over one of the jib sails. She jumped up and pulled Grippy's arm in, the retracting metal lifting her upwards as she kicked the man square in the face. He fell to the deck, his face bloodied, though as Tock was releasing the sail and landing back on her feet, he grabbed a long boat pole with a hook on the end, normally used to grab ropes along the docks and pull a boat into place. He swung it at her and knocked her from her feet.

They both struggled to their feet at the same time. But as Tock was pushing herself up, she pulled Handy off her wrist and told him, "Go git be'ind 'im..." She stuck the dagger in the loop of his tail, and the hand crawled on his fingers around the deck, heading off behind the sailor.

The man screamed in fury and terror at the murderous hand crawling across the deck, and swung the hooked pole at the Automaton. Tock advanced on him, equally enraged that he was trying to kill her child. She thrust Grippy at him, the metal striking him in the face and making the man stagger back. Then before he could reorient his attacks on her, she punched him in the gut with her own fist.

She moved in close so he lost any advantage of reach the long pole could have granted, wrapping an arm around his neck and shoulders and kneeing him in the gut. Unable to wield the pole effectively in such close quarters, he dropped it and started struggling to get her off him, punching her in the side with one fist while his other hand tried to pull her off his neck. She kept kneeing him, and brought the arm with Grippy up, then dropped her elbow onto his back.

When Handy came up behind the man she told him, "Cut 'is leg!" The Automaton had no actual skill in wielding the dagger, and thus brought it around like a steak knife once more, clumsily slicing it into the man's calf near the ankle. It didn't do much damage, but the distraction was enough to help Tock get better leverage on him, and she drove her elbow down onto the man again, driving him to the ground.

When she pinned him down, she reached to Handy and said, "Give it to Mommy!" He obediently handed her the dagger, then scurried back. Tock straddled the struggling man, pinning one of his arms under her knee. Gasping for breath, he tried to push her off. She brought the dagger down, and he grabbed her wrist with his free hand, desperate to hold her back. Tock grit her teeth, pushing down on the weapon, her leverage helping her push it slowly downward.

She locked eyes with the man. His eyes were filled with terror, and desperation. Hers held only cold madness. Slowly, she pushed the dagger lower. His strength was giving out. The tip of the blade touched his chest near the heart. She leaned into it, putting her full body weight on it. It slowly sank in, and the man stiffened. His eyes widened, and he coughed up blood, the warm red fluid dribbling down his cheeks.

She stared right into his eyes, leaning on the dagger with her full weight. Her face hovered only inches above his as she watched the life fade from him.

by **Minerva Agatha Zipporah** on August 15th, 2012, 6:19 pm

Tock rose and holstered Grippy, placing Handy back on her wrist. She checked the man's pulse, and found he was indeed gone. She stepped over to the daughter. Fingers on her neck picked up just the faintest trace of a heartbeat; Handy's weak cuts hadn't sliced deep enough into the girl's flesh to kill her instantly. She was limp, and growing cold. She'd be dead within moments. Tock thrust the dagger into her jugular to finish the job, breathing in sharp gasps through tightly grit teeth.

She stalked to the edge of the boat, looking down at the hand that held the dagger. Her hand was shaking, her flesh stained with blood. She'd just murdered two people.

She stepped over to the railing and bent over, emptying her stomach into the water below. She retched and sobbed for a moment, her entire body shaking. Blood from her hands dripped down into the water, mixing with her vomit. She gripped the railing tightly in her hands, trembling, feeling sick, unable to fight off the sight of the father's dying eyes as she'd taken his life.

She glanced towards the beach.

Eyes narrowed, and she jumped down from the boat. The Svefra woman had stolen the boy away. Taken what Tock needed. She started running, leaving the boat and the bodies behind as she raced to catch up. She ran as fast as she could, past the beach and into the forest beyond. The trees were thin out here, so close to the shore. It was little more than a wide expanse of flat, hard ground, with tufts of grass growing in cracks in the mountain stone. Trees clung to the landscape, struggling here where the land wasn't lush. Not far beyond, the rocky ground started to give way to fertile soil and green grass and shrubberies. But with the trees so thin here, there wasn't anyplace to hide.

Tock spotted the fleeing woman before long, and raced after her. Her chest started to burn with the strain, but she started closing the distance. The woman was stumbling, weighed down by her son in her arms, and unable to outpace the Animator. She glanced back, screaming, her eyes filled with raw terror. Tock kept running, stumbling here and there, scraping herself on trees and thorn bushes. When it became clear to the mother that she couldn't escape, she set her boy down and told him, "RUN!"

She then grabbed a long, heavy branch, advancing on Tock in a rage of maternal instincts, doing whatever it took to protect her son.

by **Minerva Agatha Zipporah** on August 15th, 2012, 10:29 pm

Tock ducked back from the swing, slashing her dagger across the woman's arm and drawing blood. The woman swung again, backhanded, and Tock raised her arms to defend herself. The rough wood stung when it smacked against her arms, which were only protected by her linen shirt. Better that than getting smacked in the face, though. She nearly dropped her dagger, but managed to maintain a grip on it, and when the woman pulled back for another swing, Tock kicked her in the stomach and knocked her back.

"I won't let you hurt my son!" the mother screamed, raising the branch over her head with both hands.

"'E's MINE now!" Tock declared, sidestepping the woman's clumsy swing and slashing her dagger across her chest. The woman stumbled, and Tock brought her other fist around, connecting with the woman's face. The woman staggered, nearly falling, and Tock struck her again.

Then her other hand brought the dagger up into the innocent woman's flesh.

The mother gasped, mouth gaping wide with a scream that wouldn't come. Tock growled and grabbed the woman by her hair, pulling the dagger out and plunging it in again, deeper this time. The mother clutched at her, desperately, mouth working with out sound.

Her face grew pale. She finally mouthed the words, "My... baby..."

Tock stared her right in her dying eyes and said, "Not no more 'e ain't..."

She stabbed her again, and the woman collapsed in a heap. Tock fell on top of her, plunging the dagger again and again into the woman's stomach, letting out gasps and grunts of rage.

Finally, covered in blood, she stumbled to her feet.

And went off in search of the boy.

by **Minerva Agatha Zipporah** on August 16th, 2012, 2:06 am

After a short search, Tock found the boy cowering by a tree. He screamed in pure, innocent fear when she approached, covered in the blood of his beloved family. She sheathed her dagger and held her hands out, speaking softly to him. "S'okay," she said, giving him a tender smile. "S'okay, sweetie. Everythin's awright, aye? No worries..." He cringed further back as she approached, bawling his poor little eyes out. It made her heart ache, seeing the young boy crying like that.

He really did look a bit like Mikey.

She crouched down, wiping her hands on her pants to clean of some of his family's blood. "Oy, dun cry sweetie," she said in a calm, tender, loving voice. "Yer a real 'andsome boy, ya know 'at? Ya look real strong an' 'ealthy too, aye? I betcha likes climbin' trees, don'tcha? Aye, ya look like a good climber..." She smiled at him calmly, looking for all the world as if she hadn't just brutally murdered everyone he held dear, except for the blood on her. She looked him over. His body looked to be in good condition. Healthy. Strong.

"S'okay, cutie," she whispered, moving closer. He cringed, but didn't move, looking too scared to do anything. He just stared at her with big, wide eyes that looked so adorable she could cry.

Finally, between sniffles, he said, "I... want... my... Mommy!" His tears flowed freely, and broke Tock's darkened heart.

She finally closed to within arm's reach. "It's awright, baby," she whispered, soothing the poor, frightened boy. She touched his shoulder and he flinched, trying to pull away. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered in his ear, "S'okay... I's yer new Mommy now, aye?" He continued sobbing, closing his eyes. She held him tight, pulling him close, his back against her chest.

She started rocking him back and forth, humming softly to him. "Dun worry, love," she whispered. "Mommy's gonna take good care o' ya... S'okay... s'okay..." He remained tense and stiff, but ever so slowly relaxed into her grip. She stroked his hair, and planted a loving kiss on the side of his head.

Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Mommy's gonna take care o' ya," she whispered, tightening her grip around his arms and chest. "But first..." she gently stroked his handsome face with loving fingers.

In the softest voice imaginable, she whispered, "First I gotta put someone else in 'ere wit'cha..."

Her hand closed over his mouth and nose. Her eyes stared, blank and emotionless, into the distance. "Shhhh," she whispered when he began to writhe and struggle. "Shhh, Mommy's gotcha. S'okay... Mommy's gonna take real good care o' ya..." She held him tight, never blinking, whispering soothing noises to him until his struggles ceased and his body grew still in her arms.