Jennifer Osborn, author of Intrusive Thoughts and Other Dark & Unusual Tales, resides in the Midwest with her husband and their three children. She is currently hibernating until spring. Luckily, that includes as much writing as she can squeeze into her busy, busy schedule. Follow her author's page on Facebook and Instagram for writing updates.
NOVI ANNI DEAMONIUM
by
Jennifer Osborn
11:55pm New Years Eve
“Gahhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Jessica groaned through a clenched jaw. “Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong with the baby!”
Mike stirred, waking from a deep sleep. They hadn’t stayed awake long enough to watch the ball drop at midnight, they hadn’t even made it past 9:30pm. Jessica suffered from extreme fatigue with this pregnancy. Most nights she crawled into bed shortly after eight, and tonight had been no different. Even still, she continued to wake up more exhausted than when she’d gone to sleep. The nightmares didn’t help, and they’d become all too regular.
They were dark and disturbed her otherwise serene psyche. In the dreams a creature with red, scaly skin, would slink out of the closet on hooved feet. Even in the darkness she could see the moist droplets of blood collecting on its rough scales, dripping off its horns, leaking out of every pore. She’d lie there, frozen in bed, as it moved closer. The sound of its hooves on the wooden floorboards were like loud, invasive drums that Mike never heard. (But why would he, it was only a nightmare.) Its eyes, glowing orange, flickered like little flames in the wind…and its smile, God that smile.
Her stomach twisted into knots every time she saw it, knowing the monster gained pleasure from her fear. The nightmare was always the same. She’d lie there, unable to move or scream for help, as the hideous demon crept closer. Its hot breath would dance along her neck while its forked tail flicked back and forth, a sign of its growing excitement. A clawed hand would draw circles around her navel, before running its long, black fingernail down the length of her inner thigh. She’d always wake up in a cold sweat before the beast had a chance to do anything unspeakable.
Another wave of pain coursed through her body now. Their due date wasn’t until the end of March, it was too soon for the baby to come.
“Mike! Wake up! The baby!” Jessica screamed as the contractions hit again, stronger this time. Her husband jumped out of bed, stealing a look at the digital clock on the bedside table.
11:58pm
Low, guttural moans poured out of Jessica’s body, as her eyes rolled back in her head. Instinctively she made her way onto all fours, in the middle of the bed. Mike looked on anxiously as his wife writhed in growing agony, panic replacing his drowsiness. He scanned the room for his truck keys, for a hospital bag—but it was nearly three months early, they hadn’t packed one yet.
“IT BURNS! THE FIRE! IT BURNS!” Jessica screamed, tearing off her nightgown. Mike stared at her swollen belly. There was movement. Something wriggled beneath her skin, poking and clawing from the inside. At the same time, liquid like molasses sprayed out both sides of her underwear with such force it tore the fabric, covering the bed in thick, black sludge. Mike vomited.
The grandfather clock chimed from the hallway, midnight. New Years Day had arrived on the coattails of hell, and from the looks of it, so would their child.
Jessica’s eyes were rolled so far back in her skull now, that Mike could only see two white orbs where her doe-like brown eyes had once been. She whimpered softly, falling back onto the bed. Her fingers gripped the slime covered sheets as she raised her knees; black liquid oozed between her toes as she planted her feet, bracing herself for what was to come.
“Jessica?” Mike whispered, with tears in his eyes.
Another surge of black liquid shot onto the bed, and with it a small fetus. The baby squirmed across the sticky sheets, screeching. It appeared to have small, hooved feet, a tail and two, tiny, clawed hands which dug through the muck, searching blindly for its mother.
Mike retched again, overwhelmed by the horror splayed out in front of him. A deep laugh echoed in the recesses of his mind, growing louder and louder until he slapped both hands over his ears, a useless attempt as it was coming from within.
***
Two blocks away, on the second floor of the lemon-yellow house at the end of the cul-de-sac, a clock struck midnight. Jeffrey Marsh screamed as a screeching fetus clawed its way out of his pregnant wife’s stomach, though his screams were soon drowned out by laughter.
12:01pm New Years Day