The House of Bourbon

Chapter 7

In the dim, flickering light, the shadows in the room seemed to pulse with Ember's ragged breaths, growing darker as her stomach swayed, bloating unnaturally, as if something inside her was fighting to escape. Her heart pounded in her chest, the sound deafening in her ears, as fear shot like electricity through her veins. The pain was no longer just a dull throb—it was an unbearable, sharp force tearing her apart from the inside.

Her skin stretched taut over her abdomen, and she looked ready to split, her veins bulging and glowing faintly beneath the surface. She could feel the pressure rising, a terrible weight building. Every muscle in her body seized, locking her in place as if some unseen force was controlling her. A low growl escaped her lips, barely audible over the harsh rasp of her breathing. Panic clawed at her mind—what was happening to her?

Each second dragged like an eternity, her abdomen pulsing with the dark energy twisting inside her, growing more violent with every heartbeat. Sweat poured down her face, blurring her vision, and the chair beneath her creaked ominously as if it, too, was buckling under the unseen force. She shifted in her seat, her limbs trembling uncontrollably. Rolling from side to side, she felt trapped in a living nightmare, each movement igniting new waves of pain that surged through her body.

The air grew heavier, asphyxiating as if it were thick with unseen malevolence. Ember's hands clawed at her stomach, her fingers digging into her skin, desperate to stop the swelling, the pressure, anything—but there was no escape. Inside her, the energy writhed like a living beast, ancient and wild, a force she could neither understand nor control.

Her head snapped back, eyes wide in terror, as another scream ripped from her throat, filling the room with the sound of pure agony. The darkness around her seemed to shift, closing in. The force inside her wasn't stopping. It was growing.

"Won't be long now," a voice slithered out from the shadows, clapping with twisted joy. The sound echoed eerily in the small room, amplifying Ember's terror. Each clap was slow, deliberate, a taunt that seeped into her bones.

"No..." Ember grunted through gritted teeth, her voice barely recognizable, raw and desperate. Her breath hitched as the darkness inside her womb stirred violently, thrashing as though it had a mind of its own, something malevolent and ancient. The force inside her pulled, yanked, and twisted, each movement more violent than the last, as if it was eager to tear free.

Her body convulsed, jerking uncontrollably as the thing inside her fought for its release. The grotesque sloshing sound filled her ears, wet and sickening, followed by a series of sharp, unmistakable snaps from deep within. Her organs twisted and contorted, stretched to their limit as they battled the invasion in vain.

This wasn't a birth—it was a violent intrusion, something far darker, far more wrong than anything her mind could comprehend. The air thickened, almost suffocating, as if the room recoiled in horror. Each breath Ember managed to take felt like a knife in her lungs, the pain escalating with every second.

She could feel the darkness growing stronger, feeding on her fear and anguish. There was no escaping it now. Her body was breaking, slowly unraveling, and the thing inside her would come into this world, whether her flesh survived or not. The twisted voice returned, closer now, dripping with anticipation.

"You can feel it, can't you? The end?"

Ember's vision blurred, tears mixing with sweat, yet she refused to surrender. She clutched her abdomen as if she could somehow hold the darkness inside, but her body was failing. Her skin felt as though it would tear apart at any moment, unable to contain the violent force beneath.

The room pulsed, shadows creeping closer. Something was coming. It was only a matter of time.

"Yes, soon," the voice cheered, its cruel, jagged excitement spilling over with each word as if reveling in the horror that was about to unfold.