Monster

Angel's POV

The fire was now close enough, burning every part of me, and all I could smell was my own burning flesh.

My baby started kicking so hard, reminding me that he was in my belly, and that he needed to survive. He kept kicking and kicking, and it was as if with each kick, came a new energy, a strange one.

I stood up amidst the flames and walked out, feeling numb and dizzy, and walked slowly across the corridor as the fire caught up to my hair, burning a patch of it.

I didn't know how I did it, but I drove myself to the nearest hospital I could find, collapsing on the wheel even before getting out of the car.

I couldn't quite remember what actually transpired, but I knew I heard voices, voices I couldn't comprehend, and when I slightly opened my eyes, I found myself in a typical hospital space, with a short plump woman in scrubs instructing me to push.

And push I did.

The pain was unbearable, and I couldn't even bring myself to scream.

The woman kept screaming push, and for a moment I felt like extending my hand and slapping her so hard on the cheek. I would have done that if my whole body wasn't burning up, if I wasn't bleeding from every part of my skin and vagina.

I let out a yelp when my baby finally slipped out of me, giving me one hell of a relief, one that I had not felt in years. The last thing I heard before I finally passed out was “ it's a boy”.

In my unconscious state, I dreamed about my baby. I was cooing him, trying to get him to calm down as he cried, and after putting his lips to my nipples, he finally calmed down as he sucked hungrily at my breasts.

Then, out of nowhere, a hand snatched him from me. A firm hand, broad, a man's hand. It snatched him from me, grabbing him forcefully from my arms, and when I looked up to see who it was, lo and behold, the man had no face. But even though he had no face, I could easily tell who he was by the veins that ran through his hands, by the scar that was on his pinky finger; it was Dominic.

“ Where's my baby?” I asked as soon as I woke up, looking around to check if someone was around and seeing nothing but darkness.

“ Where's my baby?” I asked again, louder this time as I tried to open eyes again, realizing that my whole face was covered in bandage.

“ Calm down miss, your baby is safe”, someone said, holding my hands down.

“ Where's my baby?” I asked again.

“ Your baby is safe”, the female voice said again.

There was something that I just didn't like about the way she sounded. It was just the way Anne sounded whenever she did something wrong and had to lie to dad about it, and it wasn't just about the way she sounded, it was also about what she said. It would've been better if she had said “ your baby is in the ICU”, or “ your baby is in the newborns section”, at least I would know where exactly my child was, instead, she said “ safe”.

She didn't give me the answer I wanted, but I relaxed as she stepped out to get the doctor.

I didn't see my baby on the second day. The doctor said that it was unhealthy for me to carry my newborn for the time being, and I obliged, but when the third day came and I still wasn't allowed to see him, I ran mad. I went berserk on everyone. I had to see my baby, or it was over for everyone, and that was when they told me that he didn't make it. My baby, my baby boy, didn't survive.

I couldn't cry. Mad people don't cry. Crazy people don't cry, so I couldn't cry. My whole body still felt hot, as if I was always immersed in a large cauldron of burning oil, but I felt no pain, or rather, the pain in my heart made me forget about the pain on my body.

I was angry, so so angry, and the only thing that was going to pacify that anger was to see Dominic's and Anne's dead bodies.

I just didn't want them dead, I wanted them to suffer like I did, to go through pain and humiliation like I did, and to go through a slow and extremely painful death like my baby did.

One of the doctors came to have a personal chit-chat with me after five days. I recognized his voice. It was the first voice that I heard when I collapsed on my wheel, and he was there when the short, plump doctor delivered the news of my baby's death to me.

“ How are you doing?” He asked as he walked into my room, and in my grief and pain, I didn't respond. I was just too tired to acknowledge anyone, to even respond to a simple greeting. My eyes were fixated on the television, and as he went on talking, the news on the television popped up, saying that the survivor from the burning house five days ago had passed away just yesterday.

The house that was burnt was showed on the TV and it was then that I realized that it was my house, the one I once shared with Dominic, and what survivor were they talking about? Was there anyone else there apart from me?

“ The hospital decided to hide the fact that you are still alive”, the doctor said, and for the first time since he walked into that room like fifteen minutes ago, I looked at him.

“ It was actually my idea. We think that what happened was not just an accident. It must've been a terrorist attack or an attempted murder”, he said.

A terrorist attack? I would've laughed at his words. Well, he must've thought so because whoever that dared to kill Angel Sammy, the self-made billionaire heiress, the CEO of SAMSONG, must've been a terrorist. No ordinary person could do that, only a terrorist.

“ We didn't want to get the authorities involved yet, not without your consent”, he continued, coming closer to my bed. He paused before he asked, “ who do you think tried to kill you?”

I could've easily told him that it was my husband and my sister, that I caught them fucking each other on my matrimonial bed, and that they had set the house on fire to cover up the fact that Dominic had smashed my head against a glass table, but I didn't tell him. I probably didn't want him to know. I wanted to act alone, to kill them both with my own hands before killing myself.

If the authorities were to get involved, they wouldn't do what I want them to do. They wouldn't make Dominic and Anne go through a slow death, they wouldn't chop off their fingers bit by bit, they wouldn't cut off Anne's breast and Dominic's penis like I wanted to, they would follow the law, probably send them to prison, or at most, end their lives with a gunshot to the head; such fast death, and I didn't want that.

And so I said nothing to him. He left after trying to get me to talk, but after thinking about it through the night, I came to realize that I needed his help if I were to accomplish any of my plans, and so I waited for him to come by the next day, but he didn't. I waited the the second day, but he still didn't come, and when he finally came on the third day, I said to him, “ I need your help”.

“ No questions, no side talks, all I need is for you to help me”, I said to him, looking him dead in the eye.

“ Help you with what?” He asked, seeming oddly interested.

“ I can't fully tell you, at least not right now”.

He thought for a while, before raising his eyes, “ okay, what can I help you with?”

I looked at my reflection in the mirror, and felt incredible hate for the monster that was staring back at me.

I turned to him and said, “ make me beautiful again”.