He seized her arms. She couldn’t crawl around like that. She needed to heal.
“Let me go!” She pulled away from Treycore and crawled to the baby, blood sliding across her hip and scattering across the ground beneath her.
When she reached the newborn, shifting about, its cry persistent, she picked it up and pressed the tip of her sword against its neck.
The baby’s mouth widened as its cry grew even louder.
Eilee grimaced at the sound, her eyes filled with disgust.
Its crying settled, and it opened its eyes, large and blue.
Treycore recognized those eyes.
Eilee’s mouth fell open. She turned to him.
“Oh…” she said, her face locked in a pained cringe.
Those were his eyes. When he came inside Sydar, it must have fertilized whatever eggs it contained and then planted it inside Eilee.
Disgusting.
Eilee’s cringe relaxed as she looked at the baby fondly. “You think I can keep it?”
The wrinkles in the baby’s face deepened. Cuts formed on its cheeks, and tendrils slid from them. They grew rapidly, alarming Eilee so that she dropped it.
The tendrils grew into tentacles, like those from Sydar. They sprung out to the side and pressed into the ground, lifting the baby, making it appear like it was riding on the back of a spider.
It crawled about, directionless, seemingly disoriented, as it grew. The baby’s flesh tore and ripped as it grew into a sack, like Sydar’s true form.
It grew and grew… until it was half the size of Eilee. From the sack, two orbs that had been the baby’s eyes turned black and enlarged. They shifted about, like they were looking for a place to hide.
“Well, Treycore,” Eilee said. “It was nice while it lasted.”
She rose to her feet, walking slowly, unsteadily, blood dripping down her legs as she approached the little monster.
It walked toward her, the tentacles at its sides flailing about.
Treycore readied his sword, in case she needed backup.
“Come to Mommy,” she said, clasping the hilt of her sword. She thrust it forward so it jammed between the adolescent beast’s eyes.
Its tentacles calmed as it descended to the ground.
She lifted her sword so that it sliced through the top of the creature’s sack.
A tentacle reached out and gripped onto her heel. Certainly, the persistent monster’s last attempt at an attack.
“Clingy little thing,” Eilee said. She raised the sword and rammed it into the creature once again.
The tentacle went limp.
Eilee turned to Treycore, a stain of blood expanding on her dress where he had created the gaping incision.
“I think I need to rest for a minute,” she said, collapsing.
***
Maggie gazed into her baby’s beautiful sapphire irises.
