Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice soft but steady, trying to pull her attention away from the agony coursing through her body.
She panted heavily, blinking up at me with wide, tear-filled eyes. "E-Emilia," she managed to choke out between deep breaths.
I nodded, gripping her hand tighter. "You're doing great, Emilia. Just keep breathing, okay?"
Her body tensed, and she let out another piercing scream. I winced but held steady, feeling utterly useless in the face of her suffering.
"She needs to push," one of the personnel directed us. The atmosphere in the room grew heavier as everyone braced for the next round.
“Push, Emilia,” I urged, doing my best to sound confident even though my heart was pounding in my ears.
Emilia gritted her teeth and bore down, her face contorting with the effort as she let out another guttural cry. Keres, still holding her leg alongside a servitor, grunted from the strain as the woman pushed with all her might.
This continued for what felt like an eternity—wave after wave of contractions, Emilia’s screams echoing in the small room.
My hand was numb from the constant pressure, and I could feel my own anxiety climbing with every moment that passed.
Finally, one of the personnel stepped in with a pair of surgical scissors, positioning herself between Emilia’s legs. There was an awful tearing sound that made me cringe—an episiotomy—and then, in what felt like one swift movement, a tiny, blood-slicked body slid out of Emilia, followed by a rush of fluid.
The room fell eerily silent.
The baby didn’t cry.
It didn’t even move.
My heart stopped. The heavy pause in the air was suffocating. One of the women attending to Emilia stepped forward immediately, her movements swift and precise as she grabbed the limp newborn.
She snipped the umbilical cord without hesitation, handing it off to another woman who began to work on the lifeless infant, their faces etched in grim determination.
Emilia let out a broken sob, her body wracked with exhaustion, but she was quickly told to keep pushing. The placenta still needed to be delivered. I squeezed her hand harder, trying to offer some sort of comfort, though I had none to give. I was shaking, unable to tear my eyes away from the scene unfolding before me.
Cassandra, lying across the room on her own bed, mimicked every movement, every scream, every push. It was as though their bodies were connected in some twisted, unimaginable way. Every time Emilia’s stomach was pressed on, Cassandra’s stomach responded in kind, flattening beneath the hands of the attendants.
Keres swore under her breath, and I couldn’t help but agree. What the hell was happening? The answer came crashing down on me like a wave, cold and brutal. I remembered one of the last passages I had read in the doctrine. One of the most twisted parts of this entire place. My stomach clenched as the realization settled over me. The woman whose hand I held so tightly wasn’t going to be the mother of this child. She was a Progenitor. A breeder.
The weight of it crushed me.
I looked at Emilia, really looked at her, and saw the truth in her hollow eyes, the resignation in her sobs. She had been used to bring a baby into the world, but it would never be hers. I could see it all, the full horror of it now.
Cassandra had never been pregnant, yet she mirrored all the stages of pregnancy down to the birth. All while Emilia, the one who had suffered through every agonizing moment of labor, would be left empty-handed, her purpose already fulfilled. The words from the doctrine echoed in my head: Progenitors exist to provide life, to continue the bloodlines that matter most. Their worth is measured in their ability to bear children.
I stared down at Emilia, my throat tightening. This was her existence, defined not by who she was, but by what her body could do. The people here didn’t see her as anything more than a vessel. I held her hand a little tighter as if it would somehow make this nightmare easier to bear. Emilia’s body shook with another sob, and Cassandra’s chest rose and fell as if in relief, her own torment finally ending. There was no pregnancy, no true bond between her and the life that had just been brought into the world, but to the others, it didn’t matter.
I wanted to scream.
Keres figured it out moments after I did, and I watched as silent tears rolled down her cheeks, her usual bravado crumbling. The room remained absent of the cries of a baby, and deep down, I knew they would never come.
There was only silence.
"I'm going to be sick," Keres muttered, her eyes flicking down toward the placenta before she bolted from the room. My heart twisted, unsure if I should follow her, unsure of anything. My mind couldn't process fast enough. Everything felt wrong, twisted beyond comprehension, and I was stuck in the middle of it.