Soul exchange

Fifteen ~ I love your parents, but a girls' gotta get laid, yah know?

"You know my birth mother? Who is she?" Nyx demanded, squeezing Micah's hands. He appeared to enjoy the contact and nodded.

"It's easier if I show you. Close your eyes."

Nyx followed his instruction and held his forearms for balance. A soft kiss brushed the skin between her brows, and her legs gave out. She freefell through concrete floors and electric wiring until she stood in an underground basement. The space was dimly lit, and there were no windows. 

A heavily pregnant woman lay panting on a rusty hospital gurney as creatures scurried around her. 

Oh God, no. 

Dark red hair plastered to her face, and her hands cradled her belly as she groaned and squirmed against iron restraints.

"Do the final transfusion. This time it should work." A husky voice sounded from the darkness, and a dark-haired man stepped from the shadows with a syringe full of blood. "It's the angels'. Do it now." 

The man was a spitting image of Neo, and Nyx did a double-take. There was something so wrong about him. Darker. 

No, it can't be him. Please, no.

A lesser Demon took the vial, screwed a needle onto the syringe and pushed it into the woman's belly. She screamed as tears streamed down her face and quickly lost consciousness. A demon slapped her cheek and rasped. "Stay alive, bitch. And keep it in there. We need time for it to work."

Without warning, the woman seized on the gurney, and her skin started cracking. Swirling black and white leeched from her skin as the Demons scurried around. "Cut it out of her before she explodes!"

Explodes? What's happening to her?

"Yes, master!"

One of the demons pulled out a scalpel and quickly cut through all the layers of the woman's belly. The cracks grew wider, and the woman's eyes opened: one pure black, the other white. She seemed to peer straight at Nyx as the infant was pulled from her womb, and she disappeared in a blink of blood and ash. Nyx's ghostly arm reached towards the gore-drenched gurney, her face twisted in horror. 

Mother.

The Demon held the baby by the feet and lifted its face to his eye level. "Looks dead."

"Another failure," the Master growled. "Dispose of it."

Nyx followed the infant with tears streaming down her cheeks as the Demon dumped it on a pile of rags and trash outside the building. No. The moment the Demon disappeared in a fog of sulphur, the baby cried.

And cried.

A homeless man woke from the mewling and picked up the infant, draping his blanket around it, before rushing through the alley, across the road to the local hospital.

So that's my story? Why. What was the point?

In a major jolt and head rush, Nyx returned to her body and tried to ask Micah her questions until her vomit made its final entrance. She turned to the side and hurled onto the concrete floor, carefully kicking her dress train out of the way. Micah offered her a handkerchief as she finished, and she wiped her mouth, embarrassed. She sniffled back the tears that threatened to spill and whispered a small, "Sorry."

"It's very common for your kind. Your bodies aren't supposed to time jump."

"Are you saying we were actually there?" Nyx swallowed the lump in her throat and composed herself again.

Micah drew her close, resting his chin on her head and hummed. She was too tired to resist, and his warmth soothed her. "In the spiritual sense. Not physical."