10th chapter finally added: TDSC

[tanya1976]

Here are the first two chapters of "The Devil Spawn Chronicles." WARNING: may be a bit dark with some adult references/situations and language.

Two female guards keep watch in front of a cell that has been prepared for a very special case in Arkham Asylum. They have been placed on special watch for two months, awaiting the arrival of something extraordinary to the halls of the mysterious ward.
“What is so special that we have to sit here on guard duty for so long?” asked Guard O’Sullivan. “I mean I’d much rather work the switchboard.”
“Oh you don’t know about this particular patient, do you?” replied Guard Matthews motioning towards the cell’s entrance.
“Uh, no, that’s why I asked that question!” huffily responded O’Sullivan as she walked over to see what Matthews was motioning to.
What O’Sullivan didn’t know was that inside this cell was a patient who will make Arkham history in two months as the first patient to ever give birth inside its walls. “What the hell? She’s pregnant!” shouted O’Sullivan as she peered into the iron-clad door. Inside the small window in the door’s frame, she could see a woman of about twenty-eight with long, black curly hair, soulful dark brown eyes and café au lait complexion, peering into a corner aimlessly muttering to herself.
“She’s giving birth here?”
“Did she arrive like that?”
“Who’s the father?”
As O’Sullivan threw a slew of questions at Matthews, they could hear footsteps stemming from down the hall. They hold up their flashlights to await the impending arrival. They noticed a voluptuous red-headed patient heading towards them. Since she has earned special privileges, she can walk freely through the halls, provided she has a pass.
“Give your name!” O’Sullivan commanded the green-eyed and porcelain complected stranger, “Authorized personnel only.”
“Oh, it’s you,” said Matthews, as she lowers her flashlight. “She’s okay. You may see her.”
The visitor is Giselle Vandergard, close friend to the guarded patient and even closer patient to Dr. Jonathan Crane, Arkham’s Director. She visits the patient on a daily basis to check on her condition and to give any support that she can. However, there is more to their relationship than what is on the outside. Giselle knows more about the details of Arkham’s most special patient and the circumstances for which such a patient was created.
“Thank you, ladies,” responded Giselle as she enters the cell. “I’m sure to commend you on a fine job protecting her when I see Dr. Crane.”
As she closed the door, she observed her close friend sitting on her bed, staring into space. She reminded Giselle of a trapped angel; however, the state of which she’s in is not so angelic.
“How are you, my angel,” asked Giselle, as she walks over to her bed and gently places her hand on her head. Angel is her term of endearment for Latanya - a fitting name for someone who has graced the once icy heart of hers.
“Have you spoken to Jonathan for me? You know, about the request to have the baby in an actual hospital,” whispered Latanya. “I don’t want to have my baby here.”
“You know that is not possible. Dr. Crane has given permission for the baby to be born here where you can be properly attended to under his care,” informed Giselle as she gently stroked Latanya’s hair, moistened by the sweat on Latanya’s forehead.
“Giselle, I don’t want to have my baby here. This place is full of lies,” cried Latanya, as she got off the bed. “He promised he’d take care of me.”
“Keep your voice down,” Giselle calmly retorted. “Do you want the guards to hear? He has kept his promise. You are in a top-notch section of the hospital and you’re receiving the finest medical attention…”
“He doesn’t visit like he used to,” Latanya frantically interrupted. “I used to see him every day. Now I’m lucky to...” Latanya hesitated and started to look around. “Do you hear that?”
“What?” asked Giselle, looking around, despite being aware of Latanya’s recent hallucinations. Some days Latanya has described hearing crowing of birds and witnessing a man in a burlap sack peering into her cell late at night. Giselle had tried to take her seriously, but she didn’t know whether to blame Latanya’s condition or something (maybe someone) more sinister.
“Sssh…do you hear that,” shouted Latanya, as she started to pace around her cell. “He’s doing that again.”
“Doing what?” asked Giselle. She hated seeing her friend in this way. Latanya has been the only person in her life ever to say the words “I Love You” and mean it. For that, she had been punished for it and kept away from the general population.
“What do you hear?” nervously inquired Giselle. “I can’t hear anything.” But, quite honestly, she could hear something. Latanya wasn’t as delusional as Giselle thought. “Wait a minute,” she asked Latanya, “are you hearing birds squawking?”
“You do hear it? Giselle, please tell me what’s going on?” begged Latanya, as she continued to seek the source of the ghastly noise.
He’s trying to make her insane, thought Giselle. He promised not to hurt the baby, but somehow he’s taking pleasure in hurting her.
“Giselle, what’s going on?” Latanya asked repeatedly.
“I have to go. Latanya, why don’t you go to sleep?,” assured Giselle. “It’s quite late. I’ll see what’s going on.”
Giselle kissed her on the cheek.
“You’re coming tomorrow, right?” asked Latanya. So lovely and fragile, Giselle thought, how could she say no?
“I always do, sweetheart,” responded Giselle as she knocked for the guards to open the door. “Don’t fret and rest up.” She gave Latanya an air kiss, waved goodbye and shut the door.
Latanya heard Giselle’s footsteps walk down the hall. Ten minutes later, she could hear additional voices outside her door talking. She heard her guards leaving for a break. She left her bed to look out her window.
“Hello,” she called out, a little concerned about being alone. They normally leave her with a relieving guard.
As she turned to head over to her bed, she heard keys unlocking her door.
“Hello, Latanya.”
The recognizable voice sent shivers down her back. Somehow as Giselle left with all her comfort, fear returned. She turned to face that voice.
“Would you like to see my mask?”
Latanya gave an ear-piercing scream. Unfortunately, her scream went unheard.

"Scarecrow, Scarecrow, Scarecrow”, Latanya muttered softly to herself, as she faced the white cushioned walls of her cell. Soft, fallen wisps of her curly, black hair frame her eyes. The wisps could be placed out of the way if not for the white cloth restraints on her wrists.
"She's been like that all day," O’Sullivan remarked to Giselle as she delivered Latanya her breakfast. Somehow the smell of warm pancakes, her favorite breakfast, isn't interrupting her continuous wail heard throughout the sector. “We put the restraints on her so that she doesn’t harm herself,” she stated.
Giselle looked down at Latanya’s hands. She noticed that Latanya’s once long and manicured nails had been trimmed down. “What happened to her nails?” Giselle asked with a hint of worry and anger.
“We also trimmed her nails a bit,” O’Sullivan answered. “We received a special request. Dr. Crane didn’t want her scratching or cutting herself for some reason.”
Giselle swallowed oncoming tears as the guard informed her of this request. Of course, she thought, the good doctor wouldn’t want Latanya to mess up that pretty face of hers. It would ruin his twisted game.
"Should we call someone about her outbursts?" inquired O’Sullivan she turned to leave the cell.
“No, please,” Giselle responded, “I can take it from here.” Giselle looked forward to her daily breakfast routine with Latanya. It was one of the few moments where she could talk to Latanya without Dr. Crane surveying their every move. However, this time she wasn’t so sure about how this meeting would go.
O’Sullivan left and slowly closed the door. Giselle waited for the door to fully close. She hated when the guards hovered over their meetings seeking information to entertain themselves in the off-hours.
“Scarecrow, Scarecrow, Scarecrow,” Latanya kept repeating these words, as the Giselle sat down next to her on Latanya’s bed. Giselle took out a small brush and softly brushed Latanya’s hair, carefully brushing the curly wisps away from her face. After brushing her hair, she took out a beautiful tortoise shell clip that Latanya had admired when Giselle showed it to her upon Latanya’s arrival to Arkham. It was her grandmother’s and it always managed to soothe her when she needed some comfort. Giselle believed that the clip would comfort Latanya in the slightest bit. Anything, she thought, was possible.
She looked at the tray of food offered as Latanya’s breakfast. At least they are getting better with their offerings, she thought. With the baby coming, Latanya needed every bit of sustenance to build her strength for the labor and delivery. Giselle picked up a fork and placed a piece of pancake on it, leading it to Latanya’s mouth. But Latanya defiantly turned her head away only to continue her murmurs of Scarecrow.
"Latanya, you need to eat....who is the scarecrow?" she asked, trying to feed her friend.
Latanya pushed away the fork. "You don't know? I'm carrying his child, his baby" she responded blankly, "He told me last night."
Giselle stared into her friend's face to find some sense of normalcy there. It remained a daunting task. It was as if Latanya did a complete 360 overnight. No longer was she the logical, yet troubled young woman she spoke to just last night. "Eat, sweetheart," she said as she tried to keep Latanya calm. "You need to keep your strength up."
"I'm not feeding it," she screamed as she placed her hands upon her swollen belly. "I'm not feeding this horrid thing."
Giselle looked at her with pleading eyes. "You have to eat, I can't have you wasting away," she appealed, stroking Latanya's hair.
"NO!" Latanya screams, knocking her tray over and spilling her food onto the floor. No sooner than the tray’s spill did her cell door loudly open. O’Sullivan and Matthews rushed over and tried to restrain her.
"Please, stop, she's just confused is all," Giselle pleaded.
“If she doesn't calm down in five minutes," said Matthews, "we will have to restrain her so she can eat. Try your best to calm her down.” Cautiously, the guards closed the door and peered into the cell with vigilant eyes.
Giselle picked up what she can salvage from the spilled food. "Please eat," she said as Latanya started eating. Seeking to continue her comforting, Giselle stroked Latanya’s hair and back. "Everything will be okay. Remember I won't let anyone hurt you," she reminded her.
"I'm scared," Latanya replied. "I don't want to play anymore.”
Latanya had such a look of pure fear that Giselle truly wondered what happened after she left her the previous night.
Giselle sat the fork down.
"What do you mean, sweetie?" she asks in a low voice, afraid of who might hear her affection towards Latanya. All she needed was to have word get back to Dr. Crane about how she’s treated Latanya too well during her visits when she swore to keep her participatory end of the game.
Latanya looked at her as she scanned the cell as if someone was watching her.
"You know what I mean...Scarecrow," she hissed as she leaned over close to Giselle’s face.
"Honey, there is no Scarecrow," Giselle replied.
Perplexed by Latanya's mere mention of him and afraid to acknowledge what she knew, Giselle tried to change the subject of Crane's scarecrow. "So what are hoping for? I bet you want a girl. She would be a beautiful one. She would have your gorgeous raven hair."
Ignoring Giselle’s desperate attempt to change the subject, Latanya continued, "He has a brown, potato sack on his head and a strange voice," said Latanya. "He knew my name and things about me that only you and Dr. Crane knew."
Giselle didn't respond. Her face barely hid her awareness of such a character. Latanya knew something, and Giselle was afraid she couldn't pull off the charade any longer.
"Latanya, you must have had a nightmare," she finally replied. "It's not unusual for women as far along as you to develop them. In fact, Dr. Crane has asked me to discuss the possibility of you having them." She crossed her fingers hoping that her statement would veer the conversation into another direction. Would Latanya bite?
She stared at Giselle for a minute, seemingly contemplating Giselle’s question. Finally, she said, "I have them every night. Sometimes, I would dream of Dr. Crane and me raising our baby together."
Satisfied with how Latanya managed to get her mind off the subject of that Scarecrow character, Giselle had to deal with how to misleadingly convince Latanya of the true identity of the baby’s father. It shouldn’t be too hard, she thought, Latanya swears a scarecrow knocked her up. How hard is it to make someone already losing her mind trust another story? But, she had to admit to feeling a pang of jealousy whenever she would bring up Dr. Crane as the father of the baby. She still felt in her gut that Dr. Crane selected Latanya over her to carry his heir.
"You mean the orderly, right? The one who really fathered your baby," interrupted Giselle.
"N-n-no," stammered Latanya as she clutched Giselle’s wrist, "Giselle, you know it's...it's...his. You were there."
Giselle stared at her blankly as if she couldn’t recall one single detail of what Latanya referred to. "No, Latanya, I do not," she replied flatly.
"Yes, you do. You were there!!" Latanya protested. “He came inside of me. Usually he doesn’t, remember? How can you forget?”
"I don't know what you are talking about, Latanya,” she denied. “Please stop making such accusations up. Dr. Crane is highly respected here and these lies could cost him his career.” But, she knew damn well what Latanya referred to. She was there, loving every bit of the torrid sex session she shared with Latanya and the good doctor. It wasn’t like it was neither the first session nor the last session they shared up until the news of Latanya’s pregnancy.
"Yes you do...you do!" Latanya insisted flailing her arms. “You were there when I took the pregnancy test in front of the guards. Why are saying these things. I thought you were my friend.”
Latanya stood up and started to scream “you do” over and over again, causing the guards and a nurse to drag her back to her bed and sedate her. Giselle remained there motionless, torn between her emotions. She wanted to help her friend, but she couldn’t betray the doctor. She was in this game too. She was just as guilty. "Will the sedative hurt her or the baby?" Giselle asked the nurse as she watched the sedative take effect. The nurse shook her head no and departed the room.
"She'll sleep it off and whatever happened will seem like another wild dream of hers," replied Matthews as she and Giselle walked out of the cell.
"She is very delicate right now, and - and," Giselle stuttered as she choked back some tears. "I'd blame myself if anything happened to the both of them.”
"It isn't her first time and most likely it won't be her last," said Matthews, shaking her head. "We often have to sedate her so she can have a restful sleep. Whatever it is that's troubling her, it is pretty bad."
As the guards returned to their posting desk, Giselle watched Latanya, whose eyes were slightly open, mutter something.. She leaned closer to the door to see if she catch a bit of what she was saying. It sounded like a prayer. She muttered it until she softly went to sleep. Angry and hurt by how her recent trip to see Latanya played out, she decided to pay the good doctor a late-night visit.

(chapter three will only be pm'd b/c of some strong content)

[Murchadh]

I've said it before, I'll gladly say it again

I LOVE YOUR FIC TO PIECES! ^_^, I even got on right before the bus got here to read the last chapter...but I didn't have time to finish it.

[fosforito]

I can second that.

but you already know this Tanya, don´t you? ;D

murchadh said:

I've said it before, I'll gladly say it again

I LOVE YOUR FIC TO PIECES! ^_^.

[tanya1976]

Thanks, ladies I appreciate the comments!

[tanya1976]

Okay here's the 4th chapter

The Devil Spawn Chronicles Part I, Chapter IV: The Visit (Rated: PG-13)

On Sundays, mornings in particular, Arkham was a sharp study in contrast, thanks to its curious tranquility. Whereas the weekdays served the scene menacingly, on this day, even the most psychotic patient could take the time to reflect on one’s thoughts and feelings. Arkham had one special program that took place on Sundays: a board member thought it beneficial to allow select patients ample opportunity to express themselves through painting. For most, it worked as a tool to regain some sensibility lost prior to arriving at the asylum. Latanya benefited tremendously from such a program. She looked forward to Sundays so that she could recreate the oil paintings she admired greatly as a child in the finest museums Gotham had to offer. She couldn’t wait for the guards to come to her cell with the day’s supplies.
Matthews arrived with her oil paints, brushes, canvas, and easel. “Good morning, Miss Ivey, what is on today’s menu? What will you paint today?” She asked.
Latanya laughed. She hadn’t laughed in a while. Matthews was pleased that she had a smile on her face today. “I thought I’d make a painting of the baby’s nursery,” she answered. “I have so many plans for it.”
“Really – like what?” asked Matthews as she sat down on a chair near the easel.
Giggling, Latanya replied, “I want it painted blue with little ducks on the walls.”
“So, it’s a boy,” said Matthews. “I’m so happy for you. He’ll surely be beautiful with looks from his father.”
“Yes, I want him to look as amazing as him.” Latanya responded. “This baby will be sweet for the both of us. He will soften him up a bit and let him concentrate less on work.”
Though gossip ran rampant in Arkham among the employees, no one could talk much about the circumstances of Patient #1976’s pregnancy, simply because it was so secretive. Matthews, who had been assigned to Latanya since she arrived four months pregnant, never knew who the baby father was. She wanted to know, but felt as if she would be intrusive if she asked. Yet, she felt as though she’s earned Latanya’s trust because of the length of time she had been in her care. She sensed that this is a great opportunity to find out.
“Latanya,” she said, “There’s something I always wanted to know since you arrived here.”
“What is it, Matthews.”
“Whose baby is this?”
Latanya suddenly placed her paintbrush down on the easel and looked at her guard. “I can’t tell you that,” she said with her head down as if she was ashamed. “I want to, but I can’t.”
“Okay, no problem.”
“Yes, I think there’s a problem.”
The voice surprised both Latanya and Matthews. It was Dr. Crane.
“Good morning, Dr. Crane.” Matthews said.
“I see you are probing my patient for some information. Is there anything I may need to know,” Crane asked suspiciously glaring at Matthews.
Matthews stood up and answered, “Of course not, Doctor. We were just having a little girl talk. But, I was just about to leave anyway, so Latanya could start her painting.” She turned to leave and slowly closed the door as Dr. Crane watched her. Something about him unnerved Matthews. He would appear unannounced and so quietly that he scared her. But, as she peered through the window of the cell, she got the answer she tried to get from Latanya. She saw Latanya embrace him, unlike doctor-patient, but rather like lovers. So that’s the big secret being kept from everyone, huh? Poor girl, poor baby, what had she gotten herself into? Matthews returned to her desk disturbed about the new information she had acquired.
“Jonathan, I’ve missed you so much,” Latanya exclaimed as she embraced him tenderly. “I think about you and the baby all the time. Maybe we should come up with names today. I like Alexander or how about Christian.”
Her zeal in seeing him annoyed him immensely. She was more like a young girl than a woman. If we wanted to be held by a woman, he always had Giselle. As she embraced him, he didn’t hug back. However, Latanya missed his aloof reaction to her cuddling him and clearly was in a state of oblivion. Or, did she?
“Jonathan, what’s wrong?” she asked. “Oh, I know what it is. You’re nervous about the baby. Everything’s fine. He’s kicking like a little rugby player. It’s amazing. Here feel.” She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. “See?” The baby kicked within her. “Oh, did you feel that? He knows you’re here. I talk to him about you every minute of the day.”
He was quite amazed at the baby’s movement. However, he didn’t show it. “Is that right?” He asked indifferently. “Now what do you possibly tell him?”
“I tell him how you are going to take care of us, like you said and like you have,” she responded. She placed her hand on his cheek and caressed it. “I know you will keep your promise because that’s who you are. You are someone who keeps his word and loves his son.” She smoothed away a piece of his hair that was falling into his eye. “I know the real you. You are so caring and loving. You want the best for the three of us.” For a brief moment, Jonathan allowed the words to seep in. Yet, he didn’t want them to seep in too much nor too long. He placed his hand on her wrist firmly and kissed it.
“I worry about you, you know.” He said with mock concern.
“You needn’t worry about me. I’m okay, really.” She assured him as she stroked his arm “Everything’s going to be fine. I never thought you were a worrywart, love.”
“Well, I can be, depending on what I’m concerned about. Giselle’s informed me of your nightmares lately. What were they about?”
“It’s silly, really.” She laughed and hid her face in hands.
“Trust me, I’ve seen and heard it all. What is it?” He asked her again this time a little less patient than before.
“Well, okay. It’s just this guy that comes around in my dreams every now and then. He wears an old burlap sack on his head and frightens me terribly. I try to get rid of him because it’s all in my head, you know. But, he keeps coming stronger than before, that’s all.”
“Has he said anything to you that’s important to make you fear him?” He said, moving to sit her bed to stroke her hair.
“He says mostly mumbo-jumbo and other things that don’t make sense, but kind of do because it’s about me and the baby. It’s like he knows things that only you and Giselle would know since I tell you. It’s weird. He just sees right through me, like some ghostly spirit or boogey-man.”
“This apparition - what happens after you dream of him?” He felt some pleasure hearing her speak of her night terrors. She had no clue of who this “being” was. Perfect.
“The guards say I have tantrums and that they usually have to sedate me to calm down. But, it doesn’t matter since you told Giselle that nightmares and dreams are normal in pregnancy. So, I’m fine, really, no big deal,” Latanya said as if she didn’t believe her own words.
She wanted desperately to change the subject. “How about having lunch with me today?” She asked. “The cafeteria is serving your favorite – veggie stir-fry.”
“Maybe we’ll have lunch another day. I’m quite busy today.”
Latanya was disappointed with the rebuff. “Well, okay. Never mind then. That’s you, Jonathan, always the busy man. What am I going to do about you?” She laughed and embraced him again.
“You know, it’s funny that you mention lunch. Have you taken your prenatal vitamins like a good little girl?” He asked as he slipped out of the embrace and stroked her wrist. “It’s important to keep your health up for my son’s sake.”
“Of course, I am. I want little Alexander or Christian to be born just fine with your eyes and my --”
“I don’t believe you.” He interrupted accusingly. “I don’t think you care about my son as you claim to do.” He dropped her wrist and turned away from her. I have her right in the palm of my hand as always, he thought to himself.
“I do. I swear, Jonathan.” She pleaded adamantly. “I take them every day with my meals.”
“Oh, really,” He turned towards her, removed his glasses, and placed them inside his suit jacket. He felt his anger rising because she was obviously lying to him. He’s watched her on a daily basis throw away food at least once each day. He couldn’t help but think she had every intention of harming his son, his heir, the one that will set Gotham ablaze.
“Yes, sweetheart, I do. I don’t know where this is going, Jonathan,” Latanya said nervously as she watched him walk over to the small trash bin next to her desk and empty the contents on the floor. In the mess lay numerous pills that went unswallowed.
“What the f*ck is this? Explain the spilled food and full plates leaving your room!” He screeched furiously. As he walked closer to her, she stepped back just as many steps as his. “You are not eating, you’re not taking your pills, and you are lying about it.”
“Jonathan, please you are scaring me. I didn’t mean to lie to you.” She tried to move away from him, but he blocked every attempt she had of doing so. Now she was crying and begging for him to stop this emotional storm. “I love you and I love this baby.”
“Is that why you called my son a horrid thing you didn’t want to feed, you stupid biatch?”
With those words, he slapped her. The force of his slap plunged her onto her bed, leaving his handprint on her cheek and a slight amount of blood dripping from her lip. Large tears fell on her face. “Jonathan, please, what are you talking about?” She tried to shield her face, but it didn’t help. He slapped her again. She cried and whimpered from the pain of the slaps.
“You are trying to starve my child. You are the horrid thing! Now I will make you hurt.” He gripped her by the arm and slammed her back to the wall. “You inflect pain on him and I shall inflect pain on you.” He clutched her neck in his hand for a few seconds. She begged and screamed for him to stop. Jonathan was in some sort of psychotic trance. He couldn’t be stopped.
“Jonathan, stop, please. I can’t breathe. Stop. Please. Please the baby.” These were the magic words that caused him to unclench her throat. He backed away from her, watching her search for some air to breath. He looked at her. She was bloody from the slaps and wet from the tears she was crying. “I’m sorry,” she managed to say between gasps. “I was only protecting him from something.”
“What the f*ck are you referring to?” His anger still inflamed.
“I was protecting him from you – Scarecrow.”

[iamthemaxx]

this is really good, and crazy! it's interesting to see the different directions the scarecrow fics have gone,and yours is no exception. good work=).

[tanya1976]

The Devil Spawn Chronicles Part I, Chapter V, “Revelations” Warning: adult situations

Jonathan stood stunned by Latanya’s exclamation. He put his glasses back on. “Okay, Latanya, how long have you had these delusional feelings?” He frantically asked. She must be silenced, he thought, she’ll ruin everything. “First the pills and now these insane accusations – I will have to change your therapy sooner than I expected.”
Crying and huddled in a corner, Latanya managed to stand up, though weakened by the episode. “I know it’s you. He knew too much. Why, Jonathan, whyyyyy?” she screamed.
“I can’t help you right now in this state,” he said. “I will come back tomorrow.”
“The marks on your neck are what I left on the Scarecrow when I was fighting him as he was raping me again,” she managed to say between hysterical sobs. “I saw them on you when you asked about my vitamins. You had them cut my beautiful nails because I used them to defend myself against YOU.” She showed him her hands.
Dr. Jonathan Crane was figured out. He slowly approached her. He had to figure out a way out of this. She can ruin everything he worked so hard to gain.
“Stay away from me!” She screamed. “I didn’t want to believe that you would do this to me. I’m having your child. Why would you do this to me? I trusted you.”
He reached out to grab her arm.
She screamed, “Don’t touch me. Help me, please. Somebody help me please!”
There was a knock on the door. “Dr. Crane, are you okay in there? What’s going on?” It was Matthews coming back from her rounds. “Okay, I’m coming in.”
“Help,” screamed Latanya. “It’s him. It’s the Scarecrow. Please help me.”
Matthews opened the door. She looked at how hysterical and bloody Latanya was and then she looked at Dr. Crane. “What the hell is going on here?” “Dr. Crane, do I need to call a nurse ?”
“No,” he motioned for Matthews to stop. “I’m trying to get to the bottom of things. It’s apart of the therapeutic process. She’s in danger of harming herself and the baby. She’s been thrashing herself against the furniture. Don’t you see her injuries?” He moved towards her.
“Matthews, please.” Latanya pleaded. “He’s trying to harm my baby.” She let out a yelp and held her stomach. She leaned on the wall as she slid down to the floor.
“Latanya…what’s wrong?” Jonathan asked, running to her. He placed his hands on her stomach.
Matthews ran towards Latanya and pushed Dr. Crane out of the way. “That will be all from you, Doctor. You come anywhere near her and I’ll arrest you.”
“Arrest me? You are going to arrest me? What’s my crime – tending to a patient? I think you are sadly mistaken and are in great risk of losing your job,” he responded.
“Now Dr. Crane I’ve witnessed some strange things here. But, nothing stranger than you poking around this particular cell too much,” Matthews shouted.
“My baby…I think he’s coming…” She cried out. The pains continued. Was she having contractions?
“GET THE NURSE NOW!” He screamed at Matthews. Matthews ran out of the room and pressed the “Call” button for the nurse.
“Stay away from my baby.” She yelped in more pain. “Oh my god, it hurts. Not now, please. I’m not ready.”
Matthews and the nurse returned. The nurse felt Latanya’s stomach. “Let’s get her to the hospital wing.”
“What the hell is going on? She’s not due for another month,” Dr. Crane exclaimed.
“Dr. Crane, well, that may not be the case right now,” the nurse replied. “It looks as if she’s having premature contractions. What exactly went on in that room, Doctor?”
“I can’t discuss that with you, nurse, you know that.”
“But, I can,” stated Matthews as she stood behind Dr. Crane. She held back everything she could to not slap him.
He turned to face her. He gave her a snide look over. “Your presence has no bearing anymore. You may get your things and leave. Your services will no longer be needed here. Good day.”
A gurney pushed by two orderlies came through the door. They placed a crying Latanya on it and pushed the gurney out of the door. “Where’s Giselle?,” she asked. “I need her.” As the gurney was lead out of her wing, her crying echoed in the halls.

Meanwhile, in another part of the female wing, Giselle had the strangest feeling. She hadn’t seen Latanya in a day and a half. It bothered her that she didn’t speak to her since. She wondered what was going on with her. She decided that she would go see her despite what Jonathan wanted her to do. Latanya is her best friend here in Arkham, not him, and she couldn’t bear to not be near her.
As she approached Latanya’s cell, she saw Matthews. She was packing her things! What the hell! “Matthews, where are you going?” She asked.
“Ask your boyfriend,” Matthews responded without glancing at Giselle.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t what kind of arrangement or pact you two have together,” Matthews looked in Giselle’s face, “but it’s sick.”
Giselle was shocked by what Matthews was saying. “Why are you saying this to me?”
Matthews picked up her box of items and started walking away from her.
“Matthews, wait. I want answers.”
Matthews stopped and turned towards her. She took a deep breath and with a shaken voice replied, “All I know is that Latanya’s on her way to the hospital wing to possibly give birth. Your boyfriend – her boyfriend, whoever, whatever, had his way with her as he has been for quite some time.”
“Oh my god,” Giselle shouted in near hysterics. “What the f*ck happened here this morning.”
Matthews placed her box down. With a tear in her eye, “I was making my rounds. Dr. Crane came by without notice as usual. It’s my fault. I left them alone. I saw them hugging. What doctor hugs his patient like that? Isn’t it against the rules?” asked Matthews.
Giselle, now in tears, sat down in the nearest chair and said, “You don’t understand our relationship with Dr. Crane and you’ll probably never will.” She looked the other way to hide her shame.
“All I know is that he’s the sick one and he’s taken advantage of both you and Latanya,” Matthews said as she sat next to Giselle. She took Giselle’s hand. “Is this Dr. Crane’s baby as I believe it is?”
This question drove Giselle to breakdown in tears. She hid her head in her lap. Matthews hugged her, gave her a tissue, and tried to calm her. “This has to be off the record or else I will deny what I’m telling you,” Giselle told her.
“I wish I didn’t have to agree to that, but I will.” Matthews said.
“Yes, he is the father of Latanya’s baby. He got her pregnant on purpose. He wanted a son and figured it would be easier to have a child with someone he could easily get custody away from. He picked a patient. It was Latanya,” she informed her.
“Why her and not you?” Matthews asked.
“Who says he hasn’t?” Giselle retorted as Matthews shook her head. “I miscarried twice, so I was deemed unfit to carry his child. Latanya was the perfect choice. She’s more naïve than I am. She needed love and was willing to give it to anyone who wanted it. She managed to carry his baby this far because of those sheer qualities.”
“He’s truly crazy, isn’t he?”
“More than you can ever imagine. There are two sides to him – one you see everyday and the other only Latanya and I have seen in two completely different settings. However, unknowingly to her, she’s seen him use that side against her. I, on the other hand, bore witness to that side as he used it against other patients. When that other side finally grabs complete hold of her, I can’t foresee what will become of her. To think that I played a major role in this sinister scheme is unfathomable. I fell for the handsome and enigmatic Dr. Crane with his majestic lies disguised as promises. He gave me attention that I always wanted, but fought against. I didn’t know that I would have to seal the deal on the fates of three people – me, Latanya, and an unborn child, who has no idea of what his father is capable of.”
“Now, I have to go to her, please excuse me.” Giselle stood up, face full of tears, and turned from Matthews. Without looking at her, she wiped her face and asked Matthews, “He fired you, didn’t he?”
Matthews responded slowly in disbelief the story Giselle had told her, “Yes.”
“For that I am genuinely sorry. You’re not the first, though. However, I must admit he can have a soft heart at times. When my guard got too close for comfort, she was never found alive again.”

[tanya1976]

Here's chapter VI: Lost Angel Warning: Adult Situations

Giselle frantically rushed to the nearest elevator desperately trying to find her friend who she thought she could protect. f*ck, she thought, how could I let this son of a biatch act this vile scheme on us. “I’m coming, Angel.” She said as the elevator doors closed. She had to get to the basement where the hospital wing was, but it felt like eternity. Finally, the doors opened.
“Ah, Giselle, what pray tell brings you down here?”
Dr. Jonathan Crane, mastermind of this sinister plot, keeper of her heart, evil bastard, was standing right there.
“Where is she, Crane?” Giselle angrily inquired, stepping out of the elevator. She was standing eye to eye to him. She was not the helpless, lovelorn patient anymore that he wanted her to be. It was over.
Crane ignored her inquiry. “I’m sensing some distress here. Would you care to come back to my office with me?”
“Crane, where the f*ck is she?” She repeated, her voice rose to a fevered pitch.
“How cute – you actually give a damn now,” he responded. “Unfortunately, your part in this situation is over. You are no longer needed. Now if you don’t mind, I have to..”
His soliloquy was interrupted by a hard punch across the face by Giselle. A trickle of blood ran down Crane’s nose. He wiped it with his fingers and tasted it. “Very well, then. Giselle, play time is now over.” With that, he gripped her by the throat and shoved her back into the elevator. Giselle hit the elevator’s wall and shrieked out in pain when her shoulder felt the brunt of it.
He locked the elevator, stood over her, and grabbed her by the hair. “Poor little crazy girl wants to get all rough and tough. She wants to tumble with her doctor.”
“f*ck you,” she yelled.
“Too late,” he responded with a laugh, removing his glasses and placing them in his suit jacket’s pocket. “We played that game and I do believe you lost that one numerous times.” He stood up and straightened his tie.
“Oh, really now? Did you?” She said with a kick to his groin. He cried and doubled over in pain. Giselle stood up and pushed him aside. He managed to trip her and as she fell, he got hold of her leg. She kicked him in the face; thus, causing him to let go of her leg. She quickly stood up and ran through the door of the hospital. There were so many doors. Which one led to her angel?
She peeked through one and noticed an older man sleeping. Another door led to a female patient, but she was about forty years old. Where the hell is Latanya? She didn’t have much time. Crane had radioed for assistance. No doubt he would arrive with some guards soon. As she turned a corner, she saw a nurse headed her way. “Please help me,” she screamed.
“What are you doing here?” the nurse asked. “You’re not authorized to be here.”
“Please I’m trying to find my friend. Her name is Latanya, she’s pregnant, and she’s in labor!”
“There’s nobody like that here,” the nurse said as she looked at her clipboard. As she looked up from her clipboard, she noticed a figure walking up. “Ah, Dr. Crane, is she a patient of yours?”
Giselle feared turning around. Her prediction was correct. Crane arrived with two guards to take her away. “Yes, she is and I sincerely apologize for the disruption in your ward.” Crane said as he took hold of Giselle’s arm.
“Let go of my arm, arsehole,” she yelled, flinging her arm back. “Where is she?”
“Such language in a place of healing,” he retorted. “How unfortunate that our therapy must end like this. Guards, please take her to the maximum security section and keep constant watch until I authorize otherwise.”
“Nooooo,” Giselle yelled as they carried her down the hall. “I won’t let you do what you did to my angel. Where is she?”
Crane and the nurse watched as Giselle left the hospital wing. Crane turned back around to the nurse. She looked at him curiously.
“Angel? What angel was she referring to?” she asked.
“It’s not unlike patients to seek some outside force as a refuge of their paranoia.” He replied and turned to exit the wing.
“Excuse me, Doctor,” the nurse called out. Dr. Crane stopped.
“Yes, curiosity kills me, I guess. But, I do have a question.”
“Yes, it will.”
“Excuse me?”
“What is your question, nurse?” He asked as he walked towards her menacingly, reaching into his suit jacket. Another possible detraction to take care of, he thought.
The nurse slowly backed away, unfortunately into a corner. “What happened to that girl that was sent down here? Wasn’t she in labor?”
“Ah, yes. She was in labor and we managed to calm her contractions. She shouldn’t have them until the time of her actual delivery.” He looked at her square in the eye. “Now what did you say about curiosity killing you?”
The nurse nervously laughed. “You know figure of speech and all…”
“Yes, I do, and then maybe I don’t,” he responded as he reached into his jacket.
“Doctor, what are you doing?”
“Just killing the curious!” He replied as he placed his burlap sack on his head and sprayed his concentrated toxin into her face. “Such a naughty cat sticking her face where it doesn’t belong.”
Crane reached for his walkie-talkie to reach his henchmen. “I have an immediate pickup for you to dispose of.”
“We’ll be there shortly, sir.”
“Thank you,” he responded. He bent down to his victim and said, “You’ve got to love efficiency.”

Meanwhile, in her room, Giselle sat crying, unable to wipe the tears from her face, due to the straitjacket placed upon her. She had failed to protect her soul mate. The one friend she had here at Arkham is gone, and with her fight with Crane, may never be found. She had to find a way out of here. With Crane issuing twenty-four hour surveillance on her, it would be more difficult to find Latanya. What have I gotten myself into, she thought lying down on her bed. “Latanya, you are out there by yourself,” she said to herself. “But, not for long, I swear I’m going to find you and your son. Crane will f*cking pay, I promise.”
“Lights out” screamed the guard as night fell. Tomorrow is another day, Giselle thought. This heartache cannot last forever.

Latanya opened her eyes to find herself clean and dressed in a purple, silk nightgown – very much unlike what she looked like previously. She smelled of lavender, her fragrance of choice, and her curly hair bounced as if she walked right out of a posh salon.
Where was she? This place was far from Arkham. Instead, it looked like a private room in some small manor. There were various works of art on the walls, books neatly placed on bookcases, and soft jazz playing in the background. The bed she was sleeping in was nothing like the bed she had at Arkham. It was a King-sized bed made from the finest mahogany she’s ever seen. Mahogany reminded her of Jonathan, or Dr. Crane. What was she supposed to think of him now? The last time she was awake they had a terrible argument. About what she couldn’t remember. Did she want to remember? All she wanted was a perfect family. She would be willing to make it work at all costs.
How long had she been out? She noticed a calendar on a desk not far from the bed. September 15th – three weeks had passed! Her baby was due on the 5th of October, not very long.
She reached down and felt her stomach. Yes! She was still pregnant and the contractions had stopped mysteriously. She could hear the baby’s heartbeat since there was a cable connected to a heart monitor on her stomach. “What a strong heartbeat you have, Alexander Christian,” she said. “I don’t know how or why we are here, but I will found out something.”
“You are such a soothing mother. I know I’ve found the right person.”
The male voice frightened her. She turned around to face it.
“Jonathan, it’s you,” she exclaimed nervously, tears forming in her eyes. “Where am I? Why am I here?”
Crane walked towards her and embraced her. “Ssh…there, there. I know it’s a bit much to wake up in unknown surroundings and all,” he replied. “Have no fears, my sweet child, you are in my home – our home.”
“Why do you have me here and what are you planning?” she cried. Her tears ran down her face. “Where’s Giselle? Where’s my friend?”
“Giselle is gone,” he replied. “I had to recommend another doctor for her. I simply could not treat her condition. Time and time again, she had informed me that she really despised the fact that you, not her, were carrying my son.”
“What? I don’t believe you. She’s not like that!” She said, shaking her head.
“Oh, but she truly is. I know. It’s ugly really to find what lies in wait in the mind of others. As you know, it’s my specialty to discover what each mind possesses. Giselle was a shock. She acted as if she cared and actually didn’t. She would talk of taking my son from you and raising it as her f*cking own.”
“Stop these vicious lies,” Latanya screamed. “Get me out of here, so I can talk to her. You got everything wrong. If I could talk to her, I’d get the truth.” She put on her robe.
Crane held her face in his hand and caressed it. “Do I really? Who told you that some disgusting orderly fathered your child when you knew that it was me? Who made you look like you were crazy because you were talking of our love and our baby? She had it all planned to dethrone you as my child’s mother since she wanted it all for herself.”
Latanya couldn’t combat what he was saying because part of it was true. Giselle always tried to persuade her that some orderly drugged and raped her as she slept in her room when it never happened. Whenever she would say that it’s not true, Giselle always said it was. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Who could she believe? Her friend who left her to defend herself or her son’s father, who may have done deplorable things to her, but is trying to reconcile their relationship and atone for his shameful acts in the past? She still very mentally exhausted and wanted to relax. She didn’t feel like thinking at the moment. “I am just too tired to think about it all,” she said.
“That’s right darling, you should rest,” he said as he lead her back towards the bed. “Our son, Damian...”
She quickly interrupted, “No, Alexander.”
He smirked and said, “Well, whatever the case, you should rest. The name issue needn’t be looked at right now.” He led her to the leather loveseat next to the bed and instructed her to sit. Afterwards, he opened the bedroom door and turned towards her. “Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, please.”
“Great. I’ll bring some up and have a cup with you. We have so many plans to make,” he said as he walked out of the room. He returned a few seconds later as to make an afterthought. “It’s so nice to have my family finally home.”
Latanya nervously smiled. “Yes, I guess it is.”
“One big happy family, we will be. You will get the home and nursery you want. While I see everything I planned come to be.” He smiled fiendishly.
“For you to get your family we must be married or all bets are off. I want my child to be born in wedlock as I wanted my parents to be.” She said with her voice trailing off into a bit of sadness and hope.
“That is something to place into consideration. Very well then, you have your wish.” Why not marry her, he thought to himself, it would be more convenient to watch and claim her, if she was closer to him. It would surely be a marriage of convenience.
He walked over to the bed and got on his bended knee. “Will you have the pleasure of becoming my wife?” Although he said it in a non-sincere manner, Latanya never had the pleasure of a proposal. She had no choice but to accept something that never occurred before. But, at what cost would she accept it?
“Yes, Jonathan, I will.”

Latanya awoke to a knock at the door. She looked at the alarm clock next to her. 5 p.m.? How did she sleep so late? She eased out of bed, put on her robe, and hurried as best she could to answer it. It was Jonathan and an older gentleman at her bedroom door. “Jonathan, I wish I knew we were having company,” she said. “I would have dressed better.”
“My dear, this is Judge Newburg. He has graced our presence this evening so that he could help us take our vows.” He said as he pointed to the visitor.
“Jonathan, am I not to have my wedding?” She asked in disappointment.
“Well, with the baby coming,” he said as he looked at her. “There’s not much time. We’ll do something bigger later.”
“I guess it makes sense not to wait much longer. But, I don’t have a ring,” she replied.
“I have had the pleasure of my maid, Artesia, to select one for me,’ he countered. “I wanted to surprise you and she’s so much better with those feminine things than I am, so I just went for it. Here it is.”
He presented a blue, Tiffany box with a white ribbon bow on top. She opened it. Inside was a platinum band with round diamonds all around. “It’s beautiful, Jonathan.”
“My child’s mother should have the best, of course.” He placed the ring on her finger.
She smiled. How splendid! She was so happy. She went to kiss Jonathan on the lips; however, he moved his face so that the kiss ended on his cheek instead. It must be his nerves, she thought. She looked at Judge Newburg. “Well, okay. Let’s have a wedding then. Judge, I’m ready, I guess.”
The party headed down to the stairs into the library’s parlor. This was her wedding, after all. She’d better make the best of it. Her newly-hired personal nurse, Monica, and Artesia, her maid, served as witnesses. The judge opened his vow book and began reciting, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to…..”
In her room in Arkham, Giselle felt a pain in her chest. It was if she knew something was wrong with her angel. “Oh, Latanya, where are you? What are you doing?” Unbeknownst to her, Latanya became Mrs. Jonathan Crane.

[tanya1976]

Here's the 7th:

The Devil Spawn Chronicles, Part I: Chapter VII, “Dreams Aren’t Real, Right?” Warning: Language and dark situations

For the past four days, Latanya’s had the same reoccurring dream. In it, she’s fighting something - clawing at some beast that’s tormenting her. With one hand, he covers her mouth to prevent her from screaming too loudly as he sets out to perform his nightly act. With the other hand, he holds her arms down. In her condition, she cannot move as freely as she wished. Within a few seconds, she feels him enter her.
“No, please,” she always manages to scream out.
“You dare fight me?” It always asks. “This is your duty. It’s asinine to fight it.”
Pull the mask off, she constantly thinks to herself. Find what’s behind that mask. Just as she finds herself about to do exactly that, the dream ends. She awakes to a cold sweat, only to find Jonathan fast asleep on the loveseat. He had slept on that couch for the past week. Why won’t he sleep next to her?
Maybe he’s working late and doesn’t wish to wake me, she thought. She laughed that thought off and chalked it up to her increasing stomach size. “We’re pushing daddy off the bed, aren’t we, honey?” she whispered to her unborn son.
Her whisper woke Crane. “Darling, shouldn’t you be sleeping?, he said with his eyes still closed. “It’s late.”
“I had the same dream again.” She replied.
“What was it again?” He asked. I could go for a good laugh, if I do say so, he thought to himself. “Is it the one with this scarecrow attacking you?”
“Yes, this time it seemed more real, though,” she said rubbing her head. “I have such a headache from it. I mean, dreams aren’t real, right?”
“Sometimes they can be a manifestation of what you are feeling,” he answered. “I’ll get a cold compress for your head.” He got up from the loveseat and left the bedroom.
She removed the covers to get up. However, as she lifted one leg, she felt a dull sensation from her inner thighs. She felt it to see what it is. Her thighs were tender and red to the touch. Crane returned with the compress. He noticed her examining her thighs. “Sweetie, what are you doing?” He asked as he applied the compress and gently laid her back on her pillows.
“Maybe I should see the doctor,” she replied. “My thighs are killing me.”
“I’ll have Artesia change the sheets. You may be having an allergic reaction.”
“The strangest thing is that they’ve only hurt recently, like in the past four days,” she retorted, as she turned to lay on her right side. “The last time Artesia changed the seats was last week and I didn’t have any problems then.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better – I will get the doctor to check on you,” he assured her. “First thing in the morning, I will have Artesia change the seats again.” He kissed her on the forehead and turned off the lights. “Sweet dreams, lovely.”
She grabbed his hand before he returned to his makeshift bed, the loveseat. “Please stay in our bed with me. I would sleep better if you did.” Her eyes pleaded with him.
I hate it when she’s so needy, he thought. “Very well then, if it makes my wife feel safer, then I will.” He entered the bed and lay in a spot that distanced him significantly from her.
“Good night, love,” she whispered in his ear. He couldn’t hear her. He had fallen back asleep within minutes of entering the bed.

Latanya awoke the next morning and headed downstairs. She heard two male voices talking in the living room. She couldn’t make out what they were discussing. “Ah, here’s my lovely wife now,” Jonathan gleefully exclaimed as he motioned for her to enter the room. “Darling, this is Dr. Braun,” he introduced. “Dr. Braun is the doctor that will help us with the labor and delivery of our son.”
Crane proceeded to tell of Braun’s credentials. He served as a private OB/GYN of many of Gotham’s most prominent. He was present in the births of the children of businessmen, government officials, and fellow doctors. She was to be included as a member of his much-extended and prestigious resume. “Hello, Mrs. Crane.” He stretched out his long, pasty hand.
“Please, call her Latanya,” he corrected. He hated the sound of Mrs. Crane and took liberty in every chance to not hear it mentioned. Latanya couldn’t help but realize the many times he has corrected anyone that has used her marital name. Why was he so willing to not acknowledge her name? He married her, for Pete’s sake. Why was he acting otherwise?
Latanya accepted his hand and replied, “Hello, Dr. Braun. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure’s all mine. What seems to be troubling you, dear?” He asked.
She walked over to the sofa. It was the first time she had actually been in the living room. She felt more like a stranger in her own home. Jonathan insisted she’d stay upstairs and attributed his reason for doing so by mentioning her condition.
“I’ve been experiencing pain in my inner thighs and my lower extremities,” she began to explain.
“Well, I will leave you two to the consultation,” Crane said as he excused himself to his office. How he hated to hear her discuss her body, he thought. As much as he took joy in using it at his own leisure, he didn’t have to hear about it.
“When do you have such pain?” Dr. Braun continued with the consultation. “When you are bathing?”
“No, as I sleep, well, rather when I wake up,” she responded. “More so, when I have a particular dream.”
“Would you mind telling me of this dream?” he asked.
Dr. Braun listened attentively to her retelling of the dream and how she detected the soreness afterwards. As Latanya told the story, she couldn’t help but notice a small mole on the doctor’s neck. She felt as she recognized it. But, what she really took notice of was the doctor’s attentiveness. He listened to her more without making patronizing comments like Jonathan. For the small amount of time she shared with him, she began to admire him.
“Latanya,” he began to say.
“Please call me, Mrs. Crane,” she corrected. “I know my husband would prefer you call me by my first name. But, it would make me happy if you called me by my married name when he’s not around.”
“Of course,” he said with a smile. “Whatever makes you happy. The patient knows best.”
Oh, how see adored him. He actually cared. She couldn’t wait for him to deliver the baby.
“May I see the marks?” He asked.
Embarrassed she hesitated and then gave permission to do so.
“No need to feel embarrassed,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.”
He examined the marks on her inner thighs. While he did see some tender areas, he dismissed her claim. “It looks as though it’s psychosomatic,” he diagnosed. “You dream it, so you feel it afterwards. It’s quite common. In fact, that’s your husband’s department, so I’ll leave that to him.”
“But, I’m being raped in my dreams and I’m feeling it afterwards when I wake up, doctor.”
“My patients often have nightmares before they deliver. Anxiety often is an enemy of pregnant women. You are expecting something so life-changing that you manifest such emotion in your dreams. It’s more common than you think,” he reassured her. “With that, I must go. I have several meetings today. Get some sleep, enjoy the remaining days of your pregnancy, and listen to your husband. He knows what’s best.”
Like clockwork, Crane reappeared laughing. “Don’t I, Dr. Braun. My nervous bride always thinks otherwise,” he said as he looked at her with a spiteful glance.
Dr. Braun laughed as he left the house.
Crane waved goodbye to Dr. Braun as he drove his Mercedes out of the driveway.
“Now what did Dr. Braun tell you?” Crane asked as he closed the door.
“He said for me to rest and listen more frequently to your advice because my best interests at heart,” she replied.
“He’s a smart man that Dr. Braun. He’s worth every penny,” he said as he started up the cascading stairs.
Latanya stood at the bottom of the steps. “The funny thing is,” she said with a giggle, “that my dreams would be the death of me if I don’t relax.”
Crane thought to himself, you have no idea how correct you are, my pet.

Giselle sat at her desk barely eating her dinner, picking at it really. It has been about a month since she’s seen or heard from Latanya. She knew that her delivery date was impending. She just wanted a sign that everything was okay, or at least non-threatening, as she believed. O’Sullivan, who had been transferred to Giselle’s watch post since Matthews had been fired, knocked on the door. “Hey, how’s our little troublemaker?” she asked.
“You have no idea of how I feel!” Giselle screeched.
“Oh, I think I do,” O’Sullivan retorted. “By the way, did you hear the news?”
“What news?” Giselle asked.
“It’s all about your little friend, your angel as you call her,” O’Sullivan answered.
Giselle perked up and wanted to know more. “What about her? Tell me, please.”
“Well, me thinks,” in a mock British voice, O’Sullivan told her, “She got married a week ago.”
“To whom?” Giselle asked, despite already being sure of the answer.
“To your lover-boy, Dr. Crane,” O’Sullivan announced heartily. “See for yourself for yourself. It’s in the wedding announcement section of the Gotham Daily.” She threw the newspaper into Giselle’s lap. Right in front of her was a picture caption that read: “Dr. Jonathan Crane and Mrs. Latanya Crane would like to announce their marriage on the evening of September 15th. The couple are expecting their first child in three weeks.” Giselle felt as if someone punched her in the stomach. Feeling nauseated, she asked O’Sullivan to remove the paper.
“If you ask properly,” O’Sullivan proposed. “I will get you all the information that I can on contacting her.”
“What do I have to do?” Giselle asked with a little mistrust.
“Nothing, really,” O’Sullivan promised. “I can’t stand the bastard. He cost me my partner. You would actually help me make his life as miserable as possible.”
Giselle never knew that she would find a friend in Arkham that would help her. She smiled. Tomorrow is today, she thought. But, she still feared what would come of this because she knew the result of having backed Dr. Crane against a wall. She promised herself she would never visit that space again.

[tanya1976]

The Devil Spawn Chronicles, Part I: Chapter VIII, “Hope’s not far behind” Warning: Some language and dark situations

It was 2:15 in the morning, and alone in the darkness of her grand kitchen, paced a very pregnant Latanya. She only had two weeks left in her pregnancy and she anticipated its end. While she adored the thought of her beautiful, bouncing little boy running the halls of her home, the pregnancy had proved too troublesome to feel any comfort or joy. On a daily basis, she faced sickness of some kind, albeit nausea or vomiting, or the continuous nightmares that each night grew stronger and more vivid than the previous night before. She wasn’t sleeping at all. Well, voluntarily that is. Jonathan had been giving her valium to sleep lately. If she protested in any way, her punishment fit his mood. One day it would be hair-pulling or a slap across the face; whereas, on another day, he’d force her to clean areas of the house, as Artesia watched, using the strongest of chemicals that would drive her to become violently ill. Dr. Bruin would constantly reassure her that her symptoms are normal, despite the obvious that they weren’t. If she asked for help or relief from him, Jonathan would come home and go into a violent rage. She grew tired of hiding the bruises whenever he had colleagues or guests over to the house. He constantly complained of not getting any work done because of her nagging interruptions. Does taking a work together or simply saying one positive word towards her constitute as nagging, she asked herself.
She didn’t have any strength left. She walked into her husband’s office, took a piece of notepad paper, and sat down at his desk. She wanted to write him a letter of forgiveness – she was ending it once and for all. Tears fell on the paper as she wrote down each letter and phrase. “My Dearest Jonathan, I am sorry to have disappointed you, but I can’t go on like this.” When she finished the letter, she carried it with her to the kitchen and laid it on the counter. She went over to a drawer and took out a stainless steel knife. On the count of three, her pain would be over. She rubbed the knife softly on her wrist, barely nicking herself with the blade. Finally, she decided that she would get it over with.
“Go ahead, I dare you.” Standing at the door was Jonathan with crossed arms. “I’ve been watching you the entire time over there.” He pointed to a dark corner in the tiny vestibule near the kitchen. “Pacing and crying and what not – you were attending to all the necessary dramatics. I see you even wrote yourself a little suicide note. Ah and here it is.” He picked up the note and read it. He clinched his lips tightly as he went through each word. She could see his cheekbones constrict.
“Well then, don’t let me stop your little event,” he said, crumbling the note and tossing it in the trash bin. “I’m waiting. Get on with it,” he encouraged her.
Crying, she shouted, “I’ll do it. I will.”
“Fine,” he said, “On the count of three.” He started to move towards her.
“One,” he whispered, creeping nearer.
“Don’t move any further. I’ll do it.” She said, inching the knife closer to her.
“Two”
“Stop right there, you son of a biatch. I’ll kill your son, so help me god.”
As the word “three” surfaced on his lips, with a quick grab, he managed to grab hold of her right hand gripping the knife. His clasp bore so tight that his nails dug into her skin. Latanya screamed in pain. “Jonathan, let go.”
“Jonathan, let go now,” she repeated. With every remaining bit of strength, she managed to bite his hand. He released his grip as she ran out of the kitchen. She opened one of the hall closets and grabbed a trench coat. She continued her run right out of the front door. As soon as she reached the steps, she was reminded of the torrid rain storm that awaiting her outside. She continued to run because she no longer cared. “Go ahead and run, little girl,” he screeched in wicked laughter. “You have no where to go. No one wants you, not even your own family.”
She ran to the end of the driveway. She shook the iron-clad gates, unaware of the brass padlock and chains in the center. Damn it, she thought, he locked it. “I really am trapped here,” she said to herself. The rain poured furiously on her as she knelt down in the accumulating rain puddles on the hard concrete. “I got my dream home, my baby, and my husband – what I don’t have is my happiness,” she murmured to herself. She crawled to a tree nearby and sought refuge from the rain. The sound of the falling raindrops caused her to fall asleep. She never felt the arms of Gerald, their butler, lift her and bring her back to the house.

The sunshine peered through the window, like a jubilant child desiring attention. She opened her eyes and took a brief glimpse of the sun. It reminded her of a memory with Giselle.
“As long as I have the sun, I will always have tomorrow,” Giselle said one day as they sat under a tree in Gotham’s Botanical Gardens, one of Arkham’s brutally rare field trips.
“What does that mean?” Latanya asked, looking at her in wonder.
“Well, to me, it means hope’s not far behind,” Giselle responded. “It gets me through the day. Now I share it with you.”
“Thanks! Hope is all you need, right?” Latanya said.
They laughed.
She loved those memories. They happened before Crane became director of Arkham and became power hungry. Giselle was her sunshine to his thunder. She hadn’t realized how far their friendship took them. Unfortunately, she couldn’t turn to that any longer. Her friendship also became a casualty. Who would’ve thought Giselle would become his accomplice? “Yeah, who would thought it,” she said to herself. She lifted the covers to go to the bathroom. She lifted one leg out of the bed. “Wow, what a feat considering how big I feel,” she laughed to herself. But she couldn’t freely lift the other. She found herself with a restraint on her ankle and shackled to the bed. Good ole Jonathan, she thought, you never cease to make your point. “I am not leaving,” she yelled to herself as she scanned the room, convinced he had hidden cameras in the room. “I can’t go. Are you satisfied? You bolted the door and the windows are sealed shut. I am your caged animal, okay.”
She pushed the call button on the intercom next to her bed for her nurse. Five minutes later, her nurse arrived. “I have to use the bathroom,” she irritably told the nurse.
“Okay, but no tricks,” the nurse warned. “The last thing I need is your husband breathing down my neck today.” She unlocked the restraint. “It’s not like I can trust you either.” She helped her off the bed.
“I’m nine months pregnant,” Latanya asked wearily. “Where can I go?”
“After last night, I’ve realized that the pregnancy isn’t an obstacle to you at all,” she responded. “It’s not a viable excuse anymore.”
The nurse walked her to the bathroom and watched her undress. “Are you going to watch me?” Latanya heatedly asked. “Can I least be afforded some privacy in my own home?
“Like I said, if you hadn’t pulled that stunt last night,” the nurse answered. “You wouldn’t be in this predicament today. It’s time for your bath.” The nurse reached over and turned the faucet.
“How much is he paying you to treat me like pure sh*t?” Latanya asked as she touched her nurse’s arm. She wanted to know how so many of his employees could stand by and assist him in his cruel treatment of her. She never imagined the hordes of heartless souls living in Gotham. “You live in my home and you have the audacity to look down at me for a dollar or two. Oh, I get it. I’m a troubled young woman who f*cked her doctor and got knocked up. So, I don’t deserve the respect of a nurse or even a maid. I’m scum, is that it?”
The nurse ignored her rant and continued to collect items to help with Latanya’s bathing. “Your husband’s party is tonight. He has instructed me to keep you busy,” she informed her.
“There would be no need to keep me busy,” Latanya responded as she removed her robe and nightgown. “I will be at the party by my husband’s side, like I’m supposed to.”
“Yeah, sure you will.” The nurse arrogantly said as she guided Latanya into the bathtub. She lifted Latanya’s hair to tie into a bun and noticed a large purple bruise, the size of a shoeprint, on her back. Amazingly, it startled her. She let out a loud gasp, covering her mouth. “Oh, my word,” she muttered. When she realized how loud this discovery made her respond, she hurried to put the morning’s routine back to normal. She tied Latanya’s hair into a bun and fetched a towel for her mistress.
Latanya turned around, completely unaware that her bruise had not healed. She wanted to know what caused her nurse’s shaken response. Before she was able to speak, her nurse warned her as she stood Latanya up, wrapped the towel around her, and guided her out of the bath, “Stop making trouble for yourself and just think of your baby.”
“Maria?” Latanya whispered, trying to grasp some sense of this recent episode.
“I will not say this again,” Maria declared as she led her back to her bedroom.

An angry argument could be heard downstairs in Crane’s office. “I’m not ready to turn her over just yet,” Crane said. “Enough already, you can f*cking her when the child’s born.”
A distorted voice responded, “You promised that I would have her exclusively once she was pregnant. Her pregnancy is damn near over. You are not fulfilling your half of the deal.”
“I know, I know. But, it will be worthwhile, if you can be a little more patient.”
“I’m losing my faith in you, Crane. You are slowly, but surely, becoming a thorn in my side,” the distorted voice said. “Do you do with thorns? You pluck them and let them fall to the waist side.”
Crane yelled, “Give me time.” The sound of crashing dishes interrupted this heated affair. Crane straightened himself up and opened the door. Outside was Artesia, the maid, picking up pieces of a tea set she removed from the master bedroom.
“Are you so deft that you can’t understand not coming near this office when the door’s closed?” He furiously asked her.
“Sorry, sir,” she said nervously. “I assumed you would’ve liked some tea?”
“Since I didn’t ask for any,” he said, clinching “You assumed wrong.”
Artesia turned to leave.
“Wait, Artesia,” he said. “My outburst was most irregular. I sincerely apologize. I have a lot on my mind, with work and all.”
“That’s quite okay, sir. You’re just anxious about the party.”
“Speaking of which, are the preparations for tonight going well?”
“Yes, they are. Your guests will arrive promptly at seven this evening. By the way, sir -”
“Yes, Artesia?”
“What dress should I set out for Mrs. Crane?”
Like I needed to think of her tonight, he thought. “My wife will not attend the party tonight. With her due date fast approaching, I wouldn’t want anything to harm her or the baby. Just make sure she’ll be well-fed and cared for tonight. I must have any distractions. I have a very important benefactor to Arkham arriving.”
“No problem at all, sir.”

Meanwhile, preparations had been set at Arkham cell #134. Tonight, Crane will enjoy his party and I will enjoy crashing it, Giselle thought. Surprise Dr. Crane, guess who’s coming to dinner!

[tanya1976]

Here's the 9th one! I'm currently working on the 10th, though that might take me longer b/c it will be longer.


The Devil Spawn Chronicles, Part I: Chapter IX, “The Party” Warning: Adult situations

Crates of French champagne were being delivered as Artesia and Gerald polished the fine silverware and china before they placed it on the long banquet table. Freshly cut red roses filled crystal vases along the table. They were expecting about twenty-five guests to attend Crane’s party. Some of which were the wealthiest within fifty miles. Crane desired some new fundraisers to improve Arkham’s facilities; thus, everything had to be perfect. The party was set to begin in an hour.
Crane dressed himself in a navy blue suit of the highest quality. He understood how difficult it was to impress Gotham’s bourgeoisie. They hadn’t been the best welcoming committee since his arrival two years ago, so he had to wear his best showmanship suit to prove how worthy he was to join their little clique. After one final inspection, he headed downstairs to check on the preparations. He heard his servants setting up the dining room. Things better be in the right place or someone’s head will roll, he thought.
“Have the crates of Maine lobsters been delivered yet?” Crane asked as he walked in to inspect the fine china laid before him. “Never mind, I can smell the flagrant aroma of them now.”
“Is there anything else we can assist you with before the guests arrive, Sir,” asked Gerald.
“No,” he replied. “Why don’t you give yourselves a few minutes to relax before the crowd arrives?”
“Why, certainly sir.” They left leisurely to their personal chambers. He went over the checklist to may sure things were perfect. Food, check, champagne, check, wife…unchecked. He walked up the stairs to pay his wife a visit one last time before the party. He reached the top step when Maria, Latanya’s nurse, ran into him. She was a little flustered. “Dr. Crane, I think we need to send someone to check on Mrs. Crane. She’s been complaining of a backache, and she isn’t looking too good. It’s lasted since last evening. The techniques I’m using aren’t working.” They hurried to the master bedroom. They found Latanya reclining on the loveseat, rubbing her back.
“Mrs. Crane, what are you doing out of bed?” Her Swedish accent permeated the room. “You will hurt yourself even further!” She attempted to lift her from the loveseat.
“Darling, do what Maria has instructed you to do,” Crane was so good at imitating sincerity and comforting gestures. He had to admit that she wasn’t looking too healthy. He did manage to conjure up some concern. “What’s this about a backache?”
“It comes and goes,” Latanya told him in a fragile whisper. She appeared quite frail. Her skin changed from golden brown to a pasty yellow. “They get stronger every now and then.”
Crane feared that it may be Braxton-Hicks contractions. These false ones are known to confuse new mothers. The timing wasn’t right at all. He had to ease her pain so that she wouldn’t become one herself throughout the party.
“I could use a good massage right now.” Latanya stated looking up to meet his gaze. “For my back, I mean.”
“Okay, good, Maria could you?” He motioned for her to massage Latanya. Maria headed towards her. Latanya slowly flung out her hand and touched Maria’s arm.
“No, Jonathan,” Latanya corrected him. “I want you to. I promise I won’t be a bother for the rest of the night.”
“Very well,” he decided. “Maria help me get her to the bed, please.” Maria nodded her head and helped Crane lead her to the bed. Latanya lay on her side. Crane sat next to her and guided his hands to her back. He did some tense areas in her back and wondered what could be the cause. He began to perform soft circles on her back.
“Maria, could you please send my wife some tea, please.”
“That feels great, Jonathan,” Latanya said with her eyes partially closed. “You always seem to know what to do.” He continued to massage her back as she took his hand and placed it upon her stomach. “That’s you in there, Jonathan, all you. He’s my gift to you.” Latanya kissed the palm of his hand. He removed his suit jacket and lay upon the bottom of the bed. He lay next to her until she fell to sleep. Maria returned with the tea.
“Maria, just place the tea on the nightstand, please.” He quietly got up from the bed and put back on his jacket. “Please come and get me if she wakes up. I need to know that she’s comfortable for at least the remainder of her pregnancy. I can’t afford any problems right now.”
Latanya’s heartfelt statement introduced Crane to an interesting dilemma: showing empathy and patience for someone he’s without a doubt mistreated. Walking down the hall, he wondered, whether he could at least lessen his stronghold on Latanya and show her some respect. She is, after all, the mother of his child.
“Your child? He’s mine,” the distorted voice returned. “Do what you want with her later. But that boy’s mine.”
“You need me as I need you,” Crane retorted in a whisper. “She’s mine as well as yours. We agreed: 50-50. Don’t renegotiate now. This conversation’s over.”
With that, he went downstairs, just as the first few guests arrived.

Outside of Crane’s mansion, Giselle watched as guests poured into Crane’s party. She was ready to stop his gracious charade, but she also had to wait until the right time. To hell with it, she thought, now’s the right time. “Tanya waited long enough.” She said. She walked up towards the door and rang the bell. Gerald, the butler, answered the door. “Welcome, Madam,” he took coat and said, “Please enjoy yourself.”
You have no idea how much I will, she thought as she mingled into the crowd.

Latanya awoke to the pain of increasing contractions. Maria was fast asleep at the end of the bed as the television flickered in the darkness of the room. Despite being in pain, she didn’t want to wake Maria. She wanted to find her husband so he could help her. Good, she thought, her restraints are off. She eased as best she could out of the bed.
Since the pain grew stronger and stronger, she had to use the walls of the hallway for balance as she made her way down the long, winding halls. She gasped in pain with each step as she finally made it to the top of the stairs. There she saw her husband chatting up Gotham’s elite in all their grandeur. She stepped down, barely making it down four steps before she felt the faces of the guests look on as they saw her appear. She heard their whispers, “Isn’t that his wife?” “I didn’t know he was married, let alone expecting a child.” ”What’s the matter with her?”
Crane walked out of the veranda when he finally noticed what the guests were whispering about. Many of them took their coats and started to leave. “Latanya,” he shouted angrily as he stepped out to get her.
A figure appeared behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hello, Dr. Crane.”
Before Crane turned his head to meet the voice, Latanya shrieked, “Giselle!”
Crane turned around and said to her as he clinched his lips, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Giselle smiled, but before she could answer, her eyes darted over towards Latanya. Her nightgown was noticeably soaked. She looked down at the carpet. Looking up, she placed her sorrowful glaze on Crane and Giselle. “Jonathan,” Latanya shrieked again. “My water just broke.”

[Dr. J Crane]

OOOOHHHHHHH!!!!!! Here he comes - baby Jon!!!

Tanya, please don't keep us waiting too long. Plus now Giselle is in the whole thick of things - I want to know how its going to go...please please please!

[tanya1976]

I'm going to get to it sometime this weekend. I have lesson plans to create for next week. But, I will definitely complete by Monday!

[fosforito]

Wow, now the baby´s coming and for sure, Giselle also has sth. in mind.

I´m curious, how it´ll go on now..

[tanya1976]

We shall see! Any opinions on how it should go?