{{ contest.story_page_sticky_bar_text }} Be the first to recommend this story.
Get Free Copy

100 free copies left

This novel is limited to 100 free copies due to its part in Inkitt’s Novel Contest.

0
Free copies left
You can choose from our best books below
Psychotropic Hound would love your feedback! Got a few minutes to write a review?
Write a Review

The Fetus of Malice

By Psychotropic Hound All Rights Reserved ©

Drama / Horror

First Trimester

I had frequent night terrors when I was little. I'd wake up screaming and calling out for mom, crying in that really painful way. You probably have your idea of what the right thing to do in her position is; go to the kid's room, hold them while assuring them everything's okay, and then wait until they go back to sleep. And that might be easy for you to say, because you're being presented with a brief and anecdotal situation. So the you of the present and the me of the past have the same problem- we know that there's an event. But as for the logic-web of other events and circumstances connected to this event, we're blind.

My mom did come and comfort me the first time it happened. And the time after that. In the beginning, she always came. You can probably identify with that, because every kid has some bad dreams. But I had them a lot. The decay of this nightly ritual happened gradually, so I can't say things in terms of 'and then one night,' on this subject. But with time, it took mom longer to come help me. She started giving me a sort of grace period, to see if I'd calm down on my own. That period grew, minute by minute, each couple of weeks. Another minute of calling out for her. Her demeanor became less and less maternally pained, and more straight-faced. I was always happy and relieved to see her, but it became painful in its own way to see that my mother was no longer so concerned by the sight of me in tears. Eventually I could tell she was frustrated with it. She started to resent being woken up by the same high-pitched wails, robbing her of precious sleep when she had work the next day. No sign that I was going to stop calling for her. She started asking me if I was faking the nightmares, and gently pushing me away if I held on to her for too long.

So I finally come to the one not-so-gradual milestone in this process, where I can start with 'and then one night'. Because one night, mom didn't come for me at all. I waited for quite a while, in the darkness of my room, sweating and sobbing. Then, thinking she had slept through my screams, I got out of bed to find her. She had locked the door.

It's the first memory I think I have of someone locking a door on me. As well as the first memory of my mother consciously deciding to not help me when I was in need of something. I threw a fit over this for about ten minutes, slapping my hands against the door and begging for mommy to help me. Then my mother came and unlocked the door. She threw a tantrum of her own. It's very surreal; being terrified of your mother. I kept on having the night terrors. She kept the door locked. I stopped asking for mother to come. Being naive at that age, I started asking for god to come. But god did not come. Then I stopped asking for help altogether. I got good at suffering in silence, and remain so to this day.

If I go back far enough, I start seeing my memories as an observer. A camera. So this next part may be a dream, or an event I just happen to recall while applying dream-like qualities. But it certainly remains as vivid in my head as anything that's ever happened to me.

I'm standing deliberately still in the middle of the school playground, alone. Covering my mouth and breathing the painfully cold night air as slowly as I can. Crying silent tears. I want the sun to come up so very badly... Something warm is running down my legs and audibly dripping onto the ground. I look down and see a pool of blood radiating from my crotch, a deep red staining my pajama bottoms. By the time I gasp, a heavy force rams into my chest and knocks me down. Mother is standing over me with a hateful snarl, screaming so loud my ears hurt.
My face was already contorted into an open-mouthed frown, and I hadn't woken up from the nightmare yet. I saw myself from above, mildly convulsing in my bed. I heard a soft, wheezing breath, growing louder, approaching my bed. Then it walked meekly into my view. A tall person with a malnourished build, garbed in black clothes with a radiantly white porcelain doll mask strapped to its face. Long, haggard hair ran down its back. I'd never met it like this before. But in retrospect, I can see it had been there for a long time. It knelt down beside my bed, resting a leather-gloved palm on my forehead. With that, my body became blissfully at ease. No more crying, or kicking. At peace... My eyes slowly open, seeming to expect the masked figure I find. I lean up to hug it, and it returns my embrace politely.
It doesn't have a name. But looking back, I know what to call it. The role it had in my life. The things that happened whenever it was around... the things it made me do... At that moment, I was looking at the fetus of malice.
Write a Review Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks, Psychotropic Hound
Continue Reading
Further Recommendations

sherylprins: A thoroughly enjoyable read, "Everything Changes in Spring" by first time novelist Robyn Prins. An intriguing read that illustrates the effects misconceptions can have on relationships.Great characterisations with a plot filled with twist and turns that keeps you engaged throughout the whole book...

Laraine Smith: My only suggestion on the grammar is to use www.grammarcheck.net. I have it bookmarked on Google Chrome. I see myself in the determination in this beautiful story! I have Cerebral Palsy, and I have dreams that I have been working hard for, too! The humor made me laugh!

Cassie Jacobson: So many twists and turns. Keeps you wanting to read to see what happens next. The main character is detailed well. The struggles and growth of Joby makes you admire her. It gives you a proud satisfied feeling while reading it. A refreshing difference then most books out there today, and in a w...

NRF: I love this story, it has a little bit of everything in it, mystery, adventure, murder, innocence, love and a surprise twist that will leave you hungry for more! Great read! NRF

ernbelle: When I first started this story I was a little unsettled by all of the information that appears in the prologue, and wasn't sure if I would continue. However, I am very glad I did. The plot was very well thought out and really interesting. There were not any page breaks or markers to acknowledge ...

ElusiveBadwolf: This book was so beautiful to read. I loved how Lizzy was finishing Hayden's list off for he self couldn't complete it and now she is learning to move on. In the end i cried, because i couldn't think about moving on if i was in her position. And how she had forgiven him by not being there with he...

romboili000: As I read this book it made me realize the importance of trusting big God. And believing that you can love even when it feels impossible. This story definitely has made me what to become a better person in Christ and just life. So thank you that's all I have to say because you wrote this story so...

deniserudolp: Breath of fresh air.....reading so many story's and wonderful writers. ...A story comes along as this that had me frustrated. ..hurt. ...In love. .and overjoyed all into one book ....wonderful story...that you can read over and over....and nd enjoy every time.

Munirah Mn: When I started the first chapter, it gave an impression that this story would have a simple plot, but the later chapters proved me wrong. Bit by bit revelations were made, those that defy my ideas of a plot twist.Dialogues of each character should be improved to vary their personality.

About Us:

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered book publisher, offering an online community for talented authors and book lovers. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books you love the most based on crowd wisdom.