Diane placed a hand over her swollen stomach, feeling the movement beneath her skin. A smile played across her lips, eyes bright with hope.
She was six months pregnant, a prisoner in her own home.
Her husband, Alan, had insisted on experimenting upon Diane during her pregnancy. Reluctantly, she agreed, and had been living at the lab ever since.
Alan hadn't informed her what they were doing exactly to the unborn child.
Diane thought the strange machine they slid her into periodically was a new kind of ultrasound.
In truth, they were changing the fetus, altering it genetically. They injected Diane with chemicals which enhanced the unborn baby, selecting the gender and physical characteristics.
The door to her room slid open, Alan standing there.
"Come here," Diane gasped, her other hand beckoning her husband closer.
Alan sat on the bed beside her, placing his long slender fingers upon her stomach. The child inside was kicking. That was not meant to happen for a few more months.
Alan smiled knowingly. He had successfully sped up the process. Diane was technically eight months pregnant.
They bent their heads together, exchanging a soft, tender kiss.
Diane was unaware that she was meant to die by her beloved's hand.
She would never know her child....