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The
woman convulsed, and the snow stained bright red about her hips.
The smell and sight of
warm blood reached the wraiths, reassuring them. This one was going to
die more quickly than they had originally expected. Spontaneously.
Without any help from their sharp pointed fangs. Sad, but she would
still taste sweet. They drifted about in the freezing wind, watching,
waiting, wanting.
After a few more minutes
the woman moaned once, quietly, and then lay still, her face alabaster,
her eyes opened and glazed, her hands slowly unclenching. The wraiths
bobbed as the wind gusted through them and considered. The chase had
started so well. She had feared well. But she had died strangely. The
most courageous of the five drifted up to the woman and considered her
silently for a moment longer. Finally, the coppery smell of warm blood
decided it and it reached down an insubstantial claw to worry at the
leather thongs of her tunic. After a moment's resistance the leather
fell open-and the one adventuresome wraith was so surprised it leapt
back to the safe circling distance of its comrades.
In the bloody mess that
had once been the woman's belly lay a child, glaring defiantly at them,
hate steeping from every one of its bloodied pores. It had eaten its way
out.
"Ooooh!" the
wraiths cooed in delight, and the more courageous of them drifted
forward again and picked up the bloody child.
"It hates," it
whispered to the others. "Feel it?"
The other wraiths bobbed
closer, emotion close to affection misting their orbs.
The child turned its
tusked head and glared at the wraiths. It hiccupped, and a small bubble
of blood frothed at the corner of its mouth.
"Aaah!" the
wraiths cooed again, and huddled over the baby. Without a word the
wraiths made their momentous decision. They would take it home. They
would feed it. In time they would learn to love it. And then, years into
a future the wraiths could not yet discern, they would learn to worship
it.
But now they were hungry
and good food was cooling to one side. Appealing as it was, the baby was
dumped unceremoniously in the snow, howling its rage, as the wraiths fed
on its dead mother.
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