She was in labour, her taught belly squirming with the new life. I filled a bucket of hot water and placed it under her. Push, push I told her. She did, she pushed, she screamed. Yes, scream some more. Then her baby fell into the bucket. I picked up the baby quickly. And I held a scalpel in my right hand, holding the baby in my left. Die. Then, I drove the scalpel into the babies eye, then the other one. I began carving the baby with the scalpel. She was screaming, a single mother with no one to love her, she will die too. She was in too much pain to do anything, she was helpless as she watched me mutulate and torture her already dead baby. Then I threw the bloody heap of disgust at her. She tried to cover her head but the blood stained her dress. She moved her arms and began holding the dead baby, crying, screaming. No words could express her pain, and I'll make sure no words ever describe her pain. I take the scalpel and stab her knee. She screams in pain, and I scream in delight. Then I stab her other knee. I stab her stomach and her waist repeatedly. Then, as she was dying I looked at her and I put my face inches above hers. She was crying, and wailing. Then I opened my mouth, and a black light came out of my mouth and into hers, and then a white light came out of her mouth and went into mine. I felt rejuvenated, alive.
A woman walks stumbles out of her house, grasping at her stomach. The baby had been a stillborn, and the police were called to deal with this obviously deranged woman. When the police came they took her to the hospital, where she was treated for exaustion. Daily a counselor would come in and ask her about what had happened.
But, the doctor notices something odd. While folding her clothes he noticed that in the woman's pocket was a scalpel, clean as if it had been bleached.