Strange Baby final part

Espresso bleeding into chubby cups, screaming steam scalding virgin milk, gobbed into the oil-black liquid in frothy halos, by a moustachioed monk, hooded within the shadows thrown from a fuzzy heaven of skirted light bulbs. Café chatter, café carnivores; slicing, stabbing, crushing their greasy breakfasts between urine coloured teeth. Angelica, bloodless, mute, alone at a table by the window, the rush of outside traffic reflected in light-less eyes, her belly still fatally full.
Won’t you ever stop?
Why should I? Best fun I’ve had in years.
With me as the next target?
The trouble with you is, you’ve no sense of humour.
I’m going to die on that operating table?
Shall we say, I’ve saved a special Adieu for you.
And all the others, Gail, Toby, are they really dead?
More dead than alive.
As dead as I am.
Ah, penny finally dropped eh?
How many more will you kill?
I haven’t worked out the numbers yet, but the undertaking business will soon be booming.
There must be some way to stop this.
Strewth! You’re either bone headed or you haven’t been paying attention. You’ve got a date with a hole in the ground girl, so just leave it!
No I won’t! You want a laugh, then I’ll give you one!
Angelica up and running, out of the café, pushing high street shoppers aside, dashing into the road...a double decker bus looming before her.
‘Go on then, laugh!’
Closer...the driver lame with shock.
‘Laugh, laugh you bastard!’
Seconds from certain death. Arms wide, belly offer thrust forward.
‘Ha...you’re beaten...beaten!’

A forgotten lullaby rising, stuttering from an old upright piano salvaged from grandmother’s possessions. Chubby fingered Angelica (‘Oh look dad, our little concert pianist’) the pint sized interpreter giggling at missed notes, and the squeaky pedal (‘We really ought to get it tuned one day’). The tinkle music drifting, ghost like, above her head, blocking out all other sounds.
The big strawberry bus succumbing to the magical music, pivoting, a roly-poly ballerina bumper car, gracefully crushing the pavement shoppers, ploughing into the crispy bacon café, reducing its interior to a postcard from the Somme; splintered limbs hugging savoury sausage entrails, shattered heads with marble-eyed greetings, steamy pools of blood rich coffee, a glitter shower of sparkling glass stars, dust and debris, concentrated hysteria, the silent, taught lipped screams of the dying, the pale indifference of the dead.
The lullaby lurching on, a sugary accompaniment to the impromptu somersaults of morning commuters as the double decker yaws poetically, balancing a moment (for one last photo?) before crashing to the ground!
The last note fades...the dust settles...a fragile silence before the vacuum of reality sucks into her ears a tidal wave of terrified panic, as if Hell has opened its portals. Her own scream of anger rising above the confusion.
‘No...no...no!’
Hands grasping for her, lusting revenge.
‘No...no!’
‘Hold her down, she’s hysterical.’
‘Let me go! Don’t touch me!’
‘Grab her arms!’
‘Let me go!’
‘It will be all right dear, everything will be fine. This is best for baby.’
‘Sister Suzy!? Where am I?’
‘You’re in the operating theatre dear, remember? We’ve got to get baby out quickly.’
‘Baby...the theatre...oh my God it’s now, it’s happening now!’
‘You’ll be fine dear. You’re going to sleep, and when you wake up it will all be over.’
‘No, you don’t understand, you’re all in danger. He’ll kill you!’
‘She’s raving, it must be the pain,’ Dr.Tomlinson grunts, scalpel at the ready. ‘Put her under quickly, otherwise we’ll loose both of them.’
‘Listen to me,’Angelica sweating with pain, arms firmly strapped down. ‘He’s got a big gun. Don’t let him out, don’t let him escape!’
‘Now dear, don’t you worry. You’re in good hands, baby will be fine.’
‘Kill him the minute you see his head. Stab him, crush him!’
‘For God’s sake put her to sleep so I can start!’
‘No...listen, you’ve got to listen.’ (A stealthy syringe, full of sleep.)
‘He’ll kill you all!’
Dr.Calmer’s big black mask descends.
‘He’ll kill...kill...all of you...kill...him...’

‘Angelica.’

‘You’ll die...all die.’

‘Angelica, try to open your eyes.’

‘Kill him...stab him.’

‘Angelica. Look at me!’
‘Where...where...who...’Angelica’s eyes flickering open.
‘Toby!?’
‘You’ve been having a wild time, yelling and shouting.’
‘What? Has he gone...is he dead?’
‘Who?’
‘The baby. That evil creature.’
‘So that’s what it was all about. All those shouts of, kill it, stab it, I thought you were dreaming about a grizzly bear attacking you.’
‘Dreaming?’
‘Wildly.’
‘It was all a dream...the whole gory business. No wonder it was so confusing. Phew, what a relief. I thought I’d gone insane. It’ll be a good one to tell Gail when I see her. Christ I’m exhausted.’
‘Well, you’ve got plenty of time left to sleep.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘I’ve just got to finish something.’
‘Finish something? In the middle of the night? Wait a minute...why are all the lights on, why are you dressed in a white coat, and what’s that funny smell?’
Angelica lifts her head, eyes rounding in disbelief. She is lying on a mortuary table, her body cut open from the neck down, organs and entrails glistening under the harsh lights.
Surprise!
Her scream of horror is brutally stolen by Toby’s deft hands; one grabbing her windpipe, the other slicing it through with a fat knife. Grinning gruesomely, he rips her lungs and heart out from between her ribs, holding them high like a lucky fisherman.
‘Won’t be needing these any more,’ he jokes, with a yellow chuckle.
Angelica’s head falls back, eyes fixed straight. A chatter behind forms into a ring of faces above her.
The girl in the Ladies:‘I got that lipstick...it was crap.’
Madam Gorgel: ‘If you ever need to get in touch, just let me know.’
Dr.Ranzig: eyeballs rolling like a fruit machine.
Sister Suzy: ‘I’m sure it will still be all right dear.’
Various doctors, bus passengers, the hungry souls from the restaurant, the greasy lipped café carnivores, all orbiting around a painfully yellow sun.

Well Mumsy, end of the line.
Time for me to die, at last.
Mission accomplished, you might say.
All those poor people you’re going to kill.
That’s there problem, not yours.
Why did you choose me, out all the millions?
You’ve got a lucky face.
That’s almost funny, if I had anything to laugh with.
Bravo Mumsy. Always look on the bright side. Most of your innards are in a bucket, but at least you haven’t got me to bother you any more.
Is that a promise?
Would I lie to you?
What happens now?
The lights go out forever.
What happened to Heaven?
Ha! Heaven is for the weak minded.
Isn’t there anything?
Why should there be?
You came from somewhere else...a kind of Hell.
The same place as you.
I don’t understand.
You and billions of others.
You mean...you’ve always been part of me?
Exactly...the part behind the mirror...in the shadows...under the gravestone.
Sounds like madness.
Who’s to judge?
My eyes are just opening and now they have to close forever.
Yeah, it’s a bummer.
Are you real...is anything real?
Sorry girl, metaphysics ain’t my strong point. I’m better with machine guns.
The light’s fading.
I hate long goodbyes.
Behind the mirror?
Under the gravestone.
Forever?
Forever.