The Never Born

The rain poured down in great torrents, soaking the huddled forms who stood outside the small thatched hut. A hazy blue light spilled out from the huts small rounded windows, and lightning crashed in the sky lighting up the clouds with menacing fingers of etched light that seemed to reach out for those who sought to weather the miserable night. Inside a beautiful young Troll woman cast her head back shrieking out in Pain, her nails dug into the wood, slicing furrows in the warped wood. Her mate a large Troll man adorned in the raiment of a Head Hunter looked on grimly as a wizened old Troll in obscuring black robes hovered above his woman's splayed open legs. Pale blue claw like fingers traced lines over the Trolless's swollen belly in some inky like fluid, creating intricate patterns as a hissing whispery voice emanated from within the shadowy cowl.

Snapping her head up the Trolless glared at her mate, her pained yet confident look silencing all opposition from her quietly acquiescing mate who simply nodded to the Robed Troll. Two clawed hands pressed into her unmarred flesh with an accompanying blade slicing through flesh and muscle as if it were moistened paper, filling the small hut with a shriek that would burn in the mind of those present for years to come. Biting her lip in an attempt to maintain consciousness she witnessed her only child being torn from her womb, and raised aloft before her. Unmoving, unbreathing she cried out in terror as her child was brought into this world dead, in desperation her hand shot out gripping the Robed Troll by the shoulder. Her half growled words "Bwonsamdi mah child shall leeve, mah life for his!" were head clearly by all present, and the Robed Troll slipped back his cowl revealing a face painted as a grinning skull. Child in hand the Robed troll hissed at her "Take eet back!", to which she snapped back "NO! AH DEMAND DIS! Mah life for hees!". Her mate lowered his head and nodded to the robed Troll "Do as she say, save mah boy" and slipped his fingers down to lace in his mates, after which he leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. Leaning up she cupped her mates cheek lovingly and kissed his lips softly "Mah greates love, take dis gift of ah child", to which he nodded as tears streamed down his cheeks unchecked, his hand running through her hair gently as the robed Troll spoke up. "Ju make a grim bargain, but Bwonsamdi hear jur plea, speak de words again an eet be done". Holding onto her mate's cheek for as long as she could, the darkness of unconsciousness beginning to cloud her vision as she slowly bled out on to the floor. Steeling herself from the dark she shook her head and leaned up away from her mate glaring at the now identified Witch Doctor "Death fo Death, mah life for hees..ah pay De Bwons price".

Clutching the child in hand he held it aloft before the Trolless, whose eyes began to slowly fade..her lips hanging open as a ghostly vapor ejected from her lips, swirling and hovering above her body as it slowly fell to the floor. Hissing at the child the Witch Doctor shook the child violently until with a shuddering breath the Troll child opened it's eyes, choking and gasping as it inhaled the swirling vapor. Turning to face the horrified looks of those watching he held the child aloft, silent..without a sound the child peered out at those assembled with narrowed eyes. The Old Witch Doctor quickly drew a sign of protection over the child's lips with his own mothers blood and spoke to those assembled "Witness De Powah of Bwonsamdi! De Child of Death, De Nevah Born here before Ju All!". In a moment they one by one fell to their knees, witness to this sacrament of their Loa, terrified for what it meant, Life out of Death, the sacrifice of love brought into this world something that was never meant to be. The droning prayers of the faithful masked the soft rattling breath of a Troll who held his mate in his arms, feeling the warmth leaving her body, bitter tears falling on the peaceful face of the woman whose face he measured his future in. In the cacophony of sound, the joy and the sadness, the child turned it's head to watch it's father huddled over it's mother, eyes unblinking it's hand reached out to offer comfort, but was just out of reach.

His mind cleared from the fog of reverie, returning the Witch Doctor to the present, the cool soil under his knees brought him back to his task. Leaning over he softly exhaled extinguishing the candle that Illuminated the two stones bearing the mark of his parents. Placing a hand over each stone, ancient and weathered by generations of exposure, they were nevertheless meticulously cared for with a kind of reverence that warmed the soul. Slowly rising to his feet the Doctor bowed his head and whispered softly "Kindness in Death, togedah now forevah, Muddah..Faddah, may Ju enjoy paradise as De Loa intended". Pulling his cowl up over his head he turned and walked silently off as the rains came again.