A Modern Myth

by Clara Wake

  Thankfully, she has her own private room. So, no distractions, only visitors she agrees to meet with. Right now, she only wants her husband, but even he was told to leave after visiting hours.

  She feels alone, scared, and lonely— even with her newborn. However, watching him keeps her from feeling too isolated. She can feel the warmth of him, the movements and rhythm of his breathing, and those soft little sounds that escape his lips. She truly admires and adores these little moments, but she just wishes she were home.

  It is daunting, she is new at this. First-time mother and she is alone. Even though she could call for a nurse – she feels like she’d be bothering them – Her anxiety peaks every time she wants assistance. She’s worried she’ll do something wrong; she isn’t even sure how to change his diaper. She’s never done it before.

  Of course, she knows she’ll have to spring into action the second he starts to stir, with his cheeks flushing bright red and his eyebrows furrowing once again as he strains. She has to act, and she has no idea what to do. She takes a second before wrapping her mind around the situation, carefully pulling him from her warm chest, and shifting cautiously, propping him on his back. She moves and finds the bag of diapers, placing one down beneath his backside. She cleans him carefully, before strapping the disposable around him, and tucking him in.

  Standing above him, she steps back and lets out a relieved and almost pleased and proud breath before throwing her arms up, a victory fist in the air. A mini and almost embarrassing proud moment and dance. She is pumped she’s done it. She managed to get his diaper on in the middle of the night, by herself. She’s got this!

  She takes complete pride in herself after the diaper change, feeding, and burping session. She did it all, and she is radiating with pure excitement. Even with the strange surroundings and unsettling sounds she could do what she needed for her baby boy. Setting him back down, she lays beside him and curls up, with her arms bent creating a fort and barrier for him, keeping him safe as she watches him. She waits patiently for him to drift off to sleep, before grabbing her cell phone and texting her husband the good news.

  She’s still ecstatic and thrilled of herself, and she can’t wait to tell her husband. She finds herself resting her head down on the pillow, taking in her son’s beauty and presence. She loves every second with him, and the more she feels calm and collected, the more she feels the pull of darkness around her eyes, exhaustion raining upon her after the dire adrenaline rush earlier. She drifts off to sleep while waiting for her husband to reply.

  Mother and baby sound asleep.

  The sun peeks through the curtains, the early hours of the morning blossoming and illuminating the room, with a soft and stunning morning glow. Of course, she is awake, with her son feeding happily on her chest. This is his seventh feed since they’d both passed out. He’s a very hungry and demanding child when it comes to food, she can’t imagine what he’ll be like when he’s older. She’s going to need another job to feed his stomach alone.

  She is once again lost in her own world as she watches him. His little blinks, as he takes in every single droplet of milk, his stunning eyes staring back at her. He’s stolen her heart and taken her breath away. She’s so in love, and she doesn’t hide it. The smile on her lips is so wide and spreading from ear-to-ear. She becomes even more exhilarated when Daddy walks in with a bouquet of flowers and a giant blue teddy bear, draped in a crimson baby blanket embroidered with golden letters: N-S.

  Crafted by his mother, she made it soon after finding out she was pregnant and kept it by her side throughout the entire journey. The initials would have remained whether a female or male. She felt and held a closeness to the blanket and hoped it would give him the same comfort it’d given her for the past 9 months.

  “I wish I could have stayed last night, babe,” he huffs loudly and pouts – he was devastated he couldn’t be with her on her first night, but now he will always be with her – because she is finally coming home today. He leans in and gives her a soft kiss, then leans down further and gives Nickolai one on his head.

  “I missed you both,” he adds, as he sets the flowers on the bedside table and the teddy bear at the end of the bed before pulling the crimson blanket from the bear and placing it on top of Nickolai. Taking a seat beside his wife, he just sits there and watches them, no words are needed. His heart is thumping with pure joy, and his smile turns into a wide grin.

  “We missed you too,” she replies, tilting her head as she moves her hand from her son’s chest, and grasps a tight hold of her husband’s; his hand swallows hers in his grasp.

  “I slept in his room last night,” he admits, as he brings his blue hues up to meet hers, a perky smile embracing his lips, “I was cleaning up, and I just found myself in his room,” he continues, as he watches his son stir with his arms flailing above his head and squirming, he is done – for now.

  Without even asking or hesitating, he takes hold of his son and brings him up to his chest, holding him firmly. Taking a whiff of that amazing newborn scent. His nose, lightly touching the top of Nickolai’s head before that stubborn hair tickles it, and he’s left scrunching his nose and laughing.

  “Let's give Mummy a break, huh? Just you and me, we’ll go for a walk,” he softly tells Nickolai, as he turns to his wife, giving her a content and warm smile.

  “Is that okay, Mummy?” He asks his wife, in a babyish tone; it was pleasant and adorable at the same time, leaving his wife to chuckle softly to herself.

  “Okay,” she replies lazily. Clearly, she’s exhausted and needs at least a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. She’s eager and ready to go home; however, she needs a rest first, and the final say from the doctors. It’s all she’s waiting for, that nod and the all clear to head home. Yet, it is still the early hours of the morning and who knew when they’d finally let her leave. Sleep would be the best option for her, to jump-start the time and give her boys some quality time together.

  Gathering the bag full of the essentials for his newborn in case of code brown emergencies, he leaves quietly and proudly walks down the narrow corridors with his son in his arms, ready for a mini adventure out into the courtyard for some fresh air, and the sunshine.

  Hours pass, cries are heard, diapers are changed and burps galore. Something to get used to – something he could do without – but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He is so in love, so happy and his life is finally perfect.

  Entering his wife’s room, he places sleeping Nickolai from his chest down into the small bassinet beside his mother’s hospital bed, while she showers and gathers her things, ready to leave this hellhole and go home. Home sweet home.

  Even as lunch time is around the corner, she is still waiting for her confirmation on her leave; she’s restless and eager to go. However; she must wait, and be patient, something she is never good at – neither is her husband.

  “That’s it!” She exclaims, huffing loudly and throwing her arms down to her sides in fists, “I’m going to find my damn doctor and ask him instead of waiting!” she wails, demanding the doctor should work; she had a third-degree tear, and it didn’t seem to bother her, and she was perfectly fine otherwise, so why wait? It wasn’t like she has to cough up a hefty bill – the beauty of Medicare in their lovely country as opposed to their neighbours below.

  “I won’t stop you,” he secretly agrees – snickering at her as he continues to pack her and Nickolai’s bags, and lets his vixen of a wife, dash off quickly to find her doctor; she is determined to get home, and he is in no way going to stop her.

  He can’t help but smile and snicker as he watches his son’s ears flicker lightly at his mother’s wailing. It is adorable how his ears respond to certain sounds.

  “Take note, little man,” his father informs his sleeping son, on the need to know about his Mother. “Your mom won’t take no for an answer; she’s stubborn and very impatient.” He chuckles to himself, as he glances over at him occasionally while stashing clothes and diapers into the
bag sitting on the bed. Watching him sleep before he continues to gather everything within the room.

  He takes one last glance around the room, observing it thoroughly, to make sure he has everything in order. Then he remembers that his wife had a shower. No doubt, she’d have left her towel and accessories in there.

  “Be back in a second, kiddo,” he announces, before he bounces off into the attached bathroom. He feels uneasy leaving him, even if he is safe. Like a sense of fear spreading over his chest, he doesn’t like it at all.

  Stepping out of the bathroom, he stops in his tracks to see a man dressed in all black clothing, from his black beanie down to his black boots, hovering over his sleeping son. His stomach turns, and confusion rattles him before he’s blinded by an agonizing impact to the back of his head. The impact forcing his knees to buckle, and his body to react. Immediately dropping to the floor with a loud smack, He manages to gasp aloud, and looks up to see the man pick up his son.

  The corners of his eyes shake violently, as he strains to keep his eyes on his son, reaching out as far as he can. His words crack and slur. He’s too dizzy to move, and as the bottom of a boot presses hard against his back, he’s rendered completely frozen and helpless. Unable to reach out and save his son.

  Tears trace his eyes, as his breathing increases into a pant, desperate to move, to get to his son, rage colliding with fear. “N-no,” he manages, “p-please,” he whimpers, feeling the strain of sadness pull at his chest. The corner of his eyes burst with tears, as he watches the man step away from him, with his crying son.

  A cry escapes his quivering lips, “No!” he cries out. His vision stirs once again, blinking numerous times didn’t help and everything starts to fade, as his heart hammered so severely in his chest. Why is this happening? This can’t be true. Don’t take him, take me.

  “That's…that's…my son!” he screeches, as his bottom lip quivers from the realization that he is powerless. He’s soon face-to-face with darkness as the blow to his head finally overtakes him, leaving him unconscious on the floor beside the empty bassinet that moments ago held his future and heart.

  CHAPTER 2

  The night is colder than usual. The sway of mist whisking from their breaths can be seen in the moonlight.

  Traveling for hours, they finally make it to their destination.

  Stepping out of the car, the two men dressed in black step out, crackle and crunch sounds beneath their footsteps. Owls flutter their wings, and the moon watches over them. It is silent, eerie, and haunting out in these woods—where deer gallop and grizzly bears roam.

  The scent of timber and damp leaves gives the old place a very soothing vibe. The high beams on the car cast a radiating light on the large wooden gate, attached to what looks like a prison wall. Standing at eight meters tall, yet it was overlaid with a wooden touch. Giving it a more relaxed state. It didn’t fool anyone who dared step near it.

  One of the men holds Nickolai and his crimson blanket close, keeping him warm in the frozen plains. While the other, leans against the bonnet of the car, waiting for the gate to be released, to gain access.

  He lights a cigarette, impatiently waiting until he hears the gate unclick. only to have the woman known only as ‘The Governor’ moving towards them and he’s fast to pull all attention to her. Completely bathed in the light of the car, she relishes the fact that all eyes are on her.

  No one could really answer as to why they obeyed her. No one truly knows why she’s so special.

  She is the boss; the brains and the authority behind this entire structure. She strikes fear in every single person below her, under her command. Obeyed and never disobeyed. She has the strongest and mightiest hold on everyone. She is the reason they are still breathing, still living and still able to go home at night and sleep in their own bed, next to their significant other—at a price, of course.

  With such high pay and no other choice, these men do everything she orders, not once batting an eyelash or voicing their concerns. The last time such a thing happened after words were exchanged about what they all did behind these walls; They were found days later, with their throat ripped out.

  If a whisper, a word or a stutter is released about what goes on, she finds out. How is a mystery, but she takes it upon herself to make sure whoever does the deed is punished on her terms, and that is why she pulls strings.

  Even at this hour, she is prepared and dressed accordingly, her jet black thick hair slicked and tied tightly back into a bun. Her dark eyes reflect the colour of her hair and dark uniform.

  “You’ll be happy with this one,” the man holding Nickolai announces. He’s proud of this one, and he knows she will be too. Wearing a smile of content, he moves forward, but he’s soon discouraged by her lack of reaction. She turns her nose up with the grunt of a scoff escaping her nostrils.

  She doesn’t speak, just stands there for a moment. Her dark eyes watch, before she moves in and takes a closer look. Her eyes scan Nickolai and see his abnormally pointed ears and tuff of red hair.

  “An Elf?” She inquires, obviously baffled. As her eyes draw from the infant and up to meet the man responsible for this captive, grimacing and scoffing, her face is pale and stoic as she watches him. Her lips twitch. “You’re right, I am very happy,” she tells him, before turning to the other.

  Holding out her hand, wearing dark leather gloves. She stands with one hand behind her back and the other held out in front as she waits for him to give her something.

  He looks at her before handing her a piece of paper, before throwing his cigarette to the ground, stomping on it quickly. He moves away from her and awaits her confirmation.

  Her dark eyes scan the paper: the announcement of the newborn. His full name, his parents’ names and his birthdate. She takes note of only two of these lines of information before pinching the tip, tearing it in half, and releasing it from her grasp—letting the scarred pieces of paper sway in the wind, flow into the forest, and soak beneath the small splatters of rain from above.

  “Were any of you seen?” She bluntly asks, her voice quiet and strict. Not accepting any other answer besides yes, or no as she turns to watch them.

  The man holding Nickolai shuffles slightly. Fear creeps through him with each heavy heartbeat that follows; she won’t like this. Shaking in his boots, he clears his throat and shoots a look at his partner, who evidently ignores him. It is his own fault, no one else’s.

  The silence between them is deafening and infuriating. “Did you two fail to hear my question?” She grunts, flexing her hands into tight fists and biting her bottom lip. Her eyes watch them both, glaring before she steps forwards.

  “Hand the boy over,” she demands, as she takes Nickolai and hands him over to the other man.

  “I’ll ask again. Did anyone see you?” She repeats her question, this time she’s slower, more stern and forceful. Standing nose to nose, not a single blink as she scans him.

  He’s quivering at this point; the woman can read you like a book. He begins to sweat, and as his lips part to answer, he’s shaking, “I…he was—”

  Before he can even finish his last words, she retrieves her hidden pistol and pulls the trigger – He doesn’t deserve a second chance – aiming and landing the bullet in between his eyes with a steady step backwards. The last glimmer of light in his eyes dims as he falls and flops to the ground. The loud, and spine-chilling gunfire echoes and rains through the woods, startling Nickolai. Leaving him restless, he begins to wail and cry loudly. It isn’t long before he’s hysterical and almost out of control, his soft skin becoming red as tears flood from his closed eyes.

  “Take him to The Elders.”

  As ordered and instructed, the last man standing swallows the evolving lump in his throat, blinks the image of his partner’s untimely demise from his mind, and does as he is told.

  Walking past the large wooden gate, with two guards securing it. He watches as the two doors to the institution, they called “The Compound” closed and he
continued inside. The name may be subtle, and simple, but behind these walls is an entirely different world. Trapped and secluded from the outside. Secrets and lies embedded within. An organization fueled on power and wealth, with no other motives or concerns.

  Taking roughly five minutes from the front of the base. Walking through the Quad, walking the path, separating each large building. Each side, with six buildings. Color-coded with allocated symbols and names.

  It is dead silent, and it always has him unsettled as he walks through the main quad, even with a few heavily armed men keeping guard and watch. He hates going through here – he doesn’t feel safe, and he has the right to feel this way – he knows what goes on behind these walls, down in the basements. Yet, he continues to work here because he has no other choice – much like everyone else here, besides The Governor.

  Reaching the nearest grey and colourless building, he steps inside, rustling the remains of the raindrops from Nickolai’s blanket.

  He sees the woman working there washing bed sheets and blankets. Cleaning any mess on the floor, mopping and vacuuming. They weren’t expecting another one so soon. Not after what happened to the last.

  Hearing movement behind her, she quickly looks over her shoulder to see one of the outsiders holding another newborn. He’s wet, cold, and hysterical.

  “His name is Nickolai.”

  He hands the child over like he’s a loaf of bread for a neighbour. As fast and sudden as he’s there, he’s just as quick to get out of there.

  Leaving her to tend to the day-old child.

  Taking a moment to herself, she holds him softly as she studies him, seeing those little features that had his parents crazy about him. She sways him gently from side to side while moving towards the kitchen, where several bottles of formula sat, ready to be heated.

  While heating one up, she takes a more detailed look. Examining the blanket, she notes the unusual colour and takes a closer look. She notices the initials carefully sewn into the blanket: N.S. The thread used was a strong golden shine.