They sat together in the den, he on the velvet sofa, and she on the floor between his knees. He mindlessly stroked her dark hair as he staired, blindly, into the fireplace.
She often wondered what it was to be a mother, but now, she wished she had never laid eyes on the man who poisened her body with the innocent life that now lay inside her.
He had no idea she was pregnant, having only known her acouple of weeks, who would suspect?
Knowing what she was, she feared the worst for her unborn child. What was it to raise a child in the dark, never to see the light of day? Like her mother before her, and her mother before her, she was condemed to live her life in the shadow of the world, a true child of the night.