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Mercy · (10-24-2017)

We see a newborn infant in a crib, swaddled in a blanket. It's tiny eyes pinched shut causing it's face to wrinkle, the infant is clearly sound asleep. A chart is affixed to the front of the crib, making it clear that this child has yet to leave the maternity ward.

Slowly, a shadow descends over the newborn, a sinister gloved hand. The fingers part, and the scalpels attached to the fingers catch the light and ring as they cut the air. The camera rises up the length of the arm and pans back, revealing a sinister figure in black, wearing a doll's mask. Mercy.

Where did my baby go....?

It comes out as a haunting breathy whisper. Slowly, the eerie masked visage turns towards the camera.

Oh....oh.....there it is. Deep inside you, Bentley. Cradled, warm, and safe in your belly. How does that feel, Bentley? How does it feel to be Gaia?

I'll never know....I'll never know....

She shakes her head, as though trying to cast something off. The infant laying in the crib before her starts to rouse. It's eyes iris open, radiant blue eyes.

It's my fault. I should have been stronger. Resisted the urge to be like you. To be uncompromisingly plastic. To reject my humanity and turn myself into a doll. Always tearing down and building, tearing down and building until I couldn't build anymore. The foundation broke and infection set in....

My guts started cramping, that's how it started. This is the price of beauty I thought. What a small price to pay for all those smiles and flashing lights and whispered sweet nothings from handsome men. It's funny now. I started thinking I was pregnant. I was everything but.

It was the first thing I asked for when I came to. I demanded to see it. My womb. The doctors looked confused, slightly horrified even. It was natural, natural for anyone to wish to see their loved one a final time before it's committed to the earth to rot.

They brought it out to me, their faces pinched masks of discomfort. They thought I was mad. But it was my body, my property that I had sacrificed! I had every right. So they brought it out to me, in a jar. That orb, that jewel....made sallow and green with pus by infection. My fingers traced the scar on my abdomen. I reached for it. Told them I wanted to put it back inside.

I was in the other hospital after that.

She cants her head at the baby now. It starts to reach it's tiny arms up towards her, it's lips pressing together in a reflexive suckling reflex. Mercy extends one of her serrated fingers. The baby reaches up and grips it, just below the blade. Dangerously close.

I hate you Bentley. I hate you because your more of a woman than me now. But more than that I hate you because your so blindly and so stupidly walking the same path I did. Wearing that assembly line beauty like a badge of honor. Flaunting the same tits, the same come hither eye shadow, the same platinum blonde hair, the same creamy skin SAME SAME SAME!

Her body quivers as she screams these final words. The infant, shocked by the sudden volume, pulls it's hand away and once more it's delicate fingers dance with the blade without touching it. The newborn threatens to cry, but it remains silent. Mercy leans over to consider the child.

I'm sorry....I'm sorry....I didn't mean....

She pulls herself back up and shakes her head.

How long do you think it'll last Bentley? Everything rots. Everything decays. How long does the beauty last? Twenty years? Thirty if you exfoliate? And what then? Do you allow your body to pass quietly into the night? Do you accept it's decline as a matter of course?

Or do you plunge yourself into the abyss like I did?

Oh, but I can tell your a fool, just like I was. It'll hit you hard when your body starts to betray you and your very flesh serves as a reminder in the mirror of your mortality. It'll betray you, Bentley. Like a duplicitous lover, it will betray you.

And that's when the cutting starts.

Mercy finally removes the bladed glove, and she drapes it over the side of the crib. The hand beneath it is chalky white, but the fingers are delicate and sinewy. She brings her forefinger down to the baby's face, and dips it past it's lips and into it's mouth. The child's natural suckling reflex again takes over as it tries to feed.

A tap sounds from just off screen. The Engineer is standing on the other side of the nursery glass. He holds his watch up and points at it.

That nurse is only gonna feign blindness for a few more minutes dear.

Mercy nods. She casts her gaze back down at the baby.

You have my baby, Bentley. All of you living dolls have all my baby's. Snug deep in your belly's. Taunting me. Humiliating me for being barren and lifeless and....and....UNWHOLE. So what do we do, Bentley? What is a mother to do?

Simple. I tear my child out of you with my teeth. I burst your belly and take what's mine. My love....my angel....

Mercy reaches up with her ungloved hand and pops a shoulder clasp on her sinister black suit. She peels the front down, exposing half of her naked chest. But where a breast should have been there is only a flat, boyish mesa with an angry puckered scar. Mercy picks the baby up, cradling it gently as she brings it up to her exposed skin. The baby's lips touch the ragged tear and it starts to try to draw sustenance. Mercy sighs.

I'm sorry....I'm so sorry....

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