Free 13 Drops of Blood by James Roy Daley Page A

been buried in. And Jennifer, truth be told, didn’t brace herself for what she was about to see; she didn’t brace for anything.
“Oh my God!” she shrieked, with eyes growing wide. “Richard, is that you?”
Looking like a zombie, he said, “Listen to me, baby-doll. This is critical.”
The thing living inside Jennifer kicked.
She staggered, clutching her belly.
    At the same moment, Richard felt his spine expand. He said, “You need to kill the baby inside you. You need to do it right now. Get a clothes hanger; push it in. Abort the child.”
    Kate stepped into the room, quite literally trembling and pulling at her hair. She said, “What are you talking about… abort the child? Now?! What the hell is happening here?!”
    Richard’s knees popped and his shoulders buckled. His teeth elongated as his fingers turned to claws. “Hurry!” he managed. “Before it’s too late!”
    Eyes on her husband, Jennifer groaned. She could feel something chewing her apart. Then her knees faltered and she dropped to the floor. Pressing her back against the nearest wall, her body convulsed. Not once, but three times quickly.
    “My baby,” she whimpered.
    She ripped open her blouse; buttons popped in different directions. Looking at her stomach, and seeing the strange way the child was moving beneath her skin, she almost understood. Almost. Then when she looked at Richard an important piece of the puzzle clicked into position. It felt like a hard slap in the face, and it was horrifying. She had a monster living inside her, a goddamn monster, trying to get out––Richard’s child.
    And Richard was––
    Gone.
    In his place was something most people will never see: half man, half wolf, bones mending, muscles growing, nose becoming snout, arms becoming legs, hair morphing into fur, hands turning into paws, eyes still green, still the windows to the soul of a man that’s able to comprehend the situation. But his mouth was growing larger and more dangerous with each passing moment. Teeth seemed to be everywhere. Jaws opened far too wide and words escaped like hostages. They were hard to recognize, but much harder to ignore: “Abort. The child.”
    Kate, standing in the center of the room with her hands in the air, looked away from Richard in horror. She saw Jennifer leaning against the wall with her blouse pulled open and her skirt hiked up. Her knees were shaking and her pink underwear had turned red. She had one hand cradling her belly as blood leaked from a long tear in her skin, through her trembling fingers, over her wedding ring (a ring she couldn’t bring herself to remove), and across her unpainted nails. She said, “Please Kate, Richard’s right. Get a clothes hanger. Help me abort the child.”
    Kate watched her sister endure two quick spasms before a mist of blood sprayed from her mouth. It ran a line down her chin and dripped onto an exposed breast. There was blood between her legs, a dark red puddle. It was growing larger. Kate didn’t understand what was happening and she didn’t understand why, but she knew one thing for sure: her sister was dying, being ripped apart from the inside.
    Yes. They had to abort the child.
    She looked across the room and her eyes locked on the closet door. In no time at all the door was open and she was standing in the doorway, pushing bags out of the way with her left hand while pulling shirts off hangers with her right. But there was a problem: all the hangers were made with plastic. She couldn’t see any of the old-fashion metal kind. She grabbed a jacket and a vest and threw them to the ground in a pile.
    Jennifer screamed.
    Richard growled.
    And Kate, cursing under her breath, saw what she was looking for: a rusty old hanger, nastier than a snake. She snagged it from the rack and stepped towards her sister, trying desperately to keep her eyes away from the huge thing that was laying on the bed, covered in fur, snapping its jaws, eying her like a fresh meal after a long