Strange Baby part 1

‘You’ll be all right now dear.’
Sister Suzy’s chubby face floating above her.
‘What’s happening? Where are we going?’
‘To the operating theatre, remember?’
‘Operating?’
‘Yes dear, we’re going to get baby out for you.’
‘Baby?’
‘Yes. Goodness, that sedative they gave you, must have been strong.’
‘My baby?’
‘Remember dear...you’ve been trying for hours to push it out, and now you’re tired and baby’s upset, so Dr.Tomlinson is going to do a quick Caesarian, then everything will be fine.’
‘I can’t feel my legs.’
‘No of course not dear, that’s the epidural working...remember... Dr.Calmer...the tiny prick in your back?’
‘They’re all numb.’
‘They’re supposed to be. Heavens, I hope that sedative wasn’t too strong...we don’t want baby coming out tipsy, do we?’

Don’t worry Angelica, everything is under control. It’s late evening. You’re lying on an operating, belly numb, legs spread, arms fixed, head swimming. Confusion, infusion, blinding lights, muffled voices...all under control. Let it be, they know best. Look...there’s nice Dr.Tom all gowned up with a broad grin behind his mask.
‘How are we feeling? Good, that’s splendid. Now don’t worry, have your baby out in a jiffy. What are you hoping for...boy...girl? Doesn’t matter really. Okay, everybody ready? Let’s get on with it.’
All Angelica can see from behind the screen are the bobbing heads of Sister Suzy opposite Dr.Tom. All she can feel is pushing and tugging in her belly. No, it doesn’t hurt...no pain at all, just a sick feeling in her head plus a large dose of anxiety.
‘Everything all right?’ Dr.Tom has “Father Christmas” eyes and a present ready to pull out like a rabbit from a hat. Angelica nods. Behind her, the bleeping syncopation of her heartbeat; above, the operating light pricking her eyes.
‘Okay everyone...baby’s ready to come out now.’ Dr.Tom glances at the nurses and doctors prepared to receive their precious cargo, incubator at the ready (just a precaution).
‘Right, here we go.’
Slicing.
‘Suction please!’
Rummaging.
‘Push Sister!’
Pulling.
‘Yes...here it comes...yes...now let’s see what you are. It’s...oh my word...it’s...it’s...’
‘It’s got a gun!’ cries Sister Suzy one second before her face dissolves in a crimson fuzz. Angelica watches horrified as, in an eye-blink of murderous chatter, the entire theatre team is reduced to a loose collection of blood soaked corpses. Dr.Calmer is the last, crashing past her, a caricature of splintered teeth and punctured eyeballs.
For a moment all is still, save the high pitched hysterics from the heart monitor. Angelica looks at the screen, feeling something moving behind it, her mind as paralysed as her belly. Slowly from the thin green barricade there rises the slim-finger barrel of a machine gun, followed by a mess of blond hair, two impossibly large blue eyes and a broad gummy grin, resembling a “Deaths Head” contraction.
‘Hello.’ The voice is a thin cockney. ‘I suppose I ought to call you Mama...but I hate formalities.’ The figure rises, already the size of a young boy, patting the machine gun affectionately. ‘Now I know what you’re wondering...how could I smuggle something like this (pointing to the gun) in something like that (pointing to her groin) well...sorry...I can’t tell you...trade secret.’ The creature ages before her eyes, his face taking on a more sinister appearance. He looks around contentedly at the carnage.
‘Not bad, considering the angle, and I’m a bit out of practice.’ He wipes the red slime from his body. ‘Bloody messy way to come into the world. No wonder babies ball their eyes out! Never mind, got to get on...lots of things to do.’ He stumbles trying to move his feet, curses then pulls hard at something out of her sight. Angelica feels a tearing in her body, a painless spurt.
The creature looks down absently. ‘There’s an awful lot of blood down here...if someone doesn’t stop it there won’t a drop left in you pretty soon.’ He stares at her for a moment then shrugs his shoulders. ‘Don’t look at me...I’m only good at killing, not healing.’
Stepping down from the table, already now the height and build of a young man, with the same garish grin and baby-blue eyes, narrowed menacingly, he stands before her, machine gun shouldered - a bare, bloody soldier.
‘Who...what are you?’ Angelica whispers, feeling her strength failing.
Baby face leans forward, breathing foully over her.
‘You wouldn’t understand.’
‘Why...did you kill them?’
‘Because I enjoy it. And it’s what I’m best at. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be off, got to practise a bit more.’ The creature walks towards the theatre doors. Before leaving, he turns to her. ‘Oh by the way...thanks
for the lift,’ then disappears, leaving Angelica alone. Her only companion the slowing bleep of her heart, but she’s hardly listening.
Far too tired to hear.
Far too tired to breath.
Far too tired to live!

-------------------------------------------

‘You look dreadful!’ Gail Honywell regards her friend with concern.
‘Didn’t sleep too well. I had a terrible dream.’ Angelica smiles weakly.
‘Really. What about?’
‘Would you believe a homicidal baby?’
‘What!?’
‘Never mind, it was too weird to repeat.’
It’s lunchtime at the high street branch of Lays Travel Agents - Your Holiday - Our Business. The two girls are in the back room sharing coffee and sandwiches, with the eager travelling public held at bay by a large black and white “Closed” sign on the door.
‘You’re still on for tonight though?’ Gail asks, her concern shifting to another subject.
‘On for what?’ Angelica mumbles through a ham roll.
‘For the seance tonight, remember?’
‘Oh...that...well...’
‘You promised.’
‘Yes I know...but...’
‘Please Ange. You know I don’t want to go on my own.’ Gail has a tight ball of blond hair wrapped around an oval face, chocolate brown eyes, over made up lips, and freckles on her nose which become more prominent when she is agitated, as now. Angelica is on the spot, remembering vaguely that Gail had asked her the previous week to go along to a seance - really genuine - according to Gail’s friend Sandra. She had fudged a reply, hoping that Gail might forget. Well, Gail hasn’t, leaving Angelica to grope around for a way out. The whole thing must be a fake, she groans to herself, a complete waste of time. Typical of Gail to be hooked.
‘Look Gail, I’m not...’
‘I know you’re sceptical, so was I, but like I told you, Sandra says she’s the real thing.’
‘Sandra also believes in Alien Kidnappers...not exactly rock solid mentally?’
‘No...but she went there ready to rubbish it all, just like you, and came out totally convinced. Apparently she had a long chat with her favourite Uncle who died some years ago. Really private stuff that only she could have known about.’
‘I’m glad for her,’Angelica stifles a yawn, ‘but I don’t have any Uncles, favourite or otherwise. I had a cat that died when I was little...but he never talked much.’
‘That doesn’t matter.’ Gail replies, missing the joke. ‘Just go there for the...fun.’
‘How much fun is there in talking to dead people being impersonated by strangers hiding in the next room?’
‘Don’t you believe at all then?’
‘Oh come on Gail, it’s all Mickey Mouse and you know it.’Angelica runs both her hands through her long dark hair in exasperation, wondering how she ever got into this.
‘But Sandra says...’
‘And a belief in Martian Mafiosi makes her an authority?’
‘Well no, but...’
‘Who do you want to contact anyway?
‘Auntie Mabel.’
‘But your Aunt Mabel isn’t dead!’
‘Not that one...the other one.’
‘You’ve got two?’
‘Well...no...not any more.’
‘I mean...oh never mind.’
‘Go on Ange. It’ll be a giggle.’
‘And I did promise.’
‘Exactly! And I’ll treat you to a gin-and-it in the pub afterwards.’
‘A double?’
‘Done!’