"Mary" she rasped, "you are alone and there is no one but me to help you in this world - let me take care of your bastard child. You can come for it later when it has grown. Let me in now, that I may do as I will.”
It was then that the pain came upon the young mother. Mary clutched her cramping girth and cried, "not now!”
There was a muttering to be heard on the other side of the door. The witch had started cursing an evil mantra, issuing such blasphemies as are spoken by her kind.
It had started to rain.
Mary felt trapped - she could not leave by her one and only door, for fear of the Vivien - yet neither could she safely stay.
She needed help.
A fit of unconsciousness draped over her trembling form, as Hannah collapsed into the darkness, hitting her head on the cold slate floor. She felt nothing.
Come the morning the young mother lay in her mess, with a cold infant between her legs still tied by its cord.
Pitifully alone in her bewilderment she lay for many hours, without the will to do anything but wail.
There was blood all around, and yet the cottage smelt of roses. The sun was streaming through the little stone window, and illumined the naked child limp upon the floor.
- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS, Second Chances
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