Their Marked Baby Boy

1

The man tightened his grip on his hair as if the pain would drown out the screams from the other room. He'd never liked hospitals. No matter how much healing was done in them, there would always be someone preparing to take their last breath.

Another scream pulled him from his thoughts. He wished he was in there, to hold her hand and tell her everything would be alright, but he had been ushered out when things took a turn. He was of no use in that room, but if he could, He'd do anything, give anything.

In the empty hallway, his whispered voice filled the space. He hadn't meant to speak aloud. It sounded strange as it echoed.

"Anything." He tentatively mumbled as if he was making sure he meant it.

"Anything." He spoke louder, confident that no cost would be too much to save his lover.

"Anything?"

He jumped from his seat, searching for the source of the noise. No one else was there. He was alone, yet his eyes were drawn to a shadow filled corner. The shadows seemed to move as if inviting him to come closer, and he did.

"Anything?" The voice spoke with a gentle tone, giving the man a sense of comfort.

"Anything," He repeated "anything for her."

"Even...The child?" The voice queried as the shadows seemed to rise as if standing up straight.

His breath hitched as the question was asked. His unborn child, who he hadn't even had a chance to meet or his wife who he had shared years of his life with.

Another scream filled the air as his wife fought for her life and the life of the child she was birthing. The child who had come too early.

The child who was causing her so much pain.

"Yes." He stated plainly,"even the child."

A tendril of darkness stretched out from the corner, and without hesitation, he reached for it. As his hand grasped it, the shadow sprung forward, blowing over him.

"In 18 years, the debt will be paid."

The words rang loud in his head despite their hushed tone. For a few minutes, everything was silent. His eyes didn't leave the corner as he stared in disbelief. Surely, that didn't just happen. He must have imagined it in a stress induced hallucination.

The shadow didn't talk.

He didn't talk back.

And he definitely didn't just trade his unborn child for his wife's survival.

That would be insane. Right?

"Sir?"

He inhaled sharply as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Behind him stood a nurse wearing a gentle smile on their face.

"You can go in now."

Wordlessly, he walked towards the now open door. He had been so trapped in his thoughts that he hadn't heard.

Hadn't heard the nurse calling him.

Hadn't heard the screams stop.

Hadn't heard them being replaced with cries.

Cries of a baby.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" His wife spoke with a tired smile,"our son, our Lucas."

Our son. The words echoed in his mind.

His son? No. It wasn't his son, not anymore. He belonged to someone, something else. As if the man needed a reminder, a birthmark stained the boys face. To anyone else, it was simply a reddish splodge against his pale skin, but to the man, it held a shape.

The shape of a showdow.