by T. Styles
“Okay,” she smiled eerily. The Predator took in the view again. “Look, Butterfly. Look out of the window at the land. Isn’t it spectacular?”
Butterfly’s jaw trembled. Her face reddened as she slowly turned her head. Her eyes landed on the sun. It was rising and was brilliantly orange. Just at that moment, a group of yellow butterflies fluttered in front of the window. Were they a figment of her imagination, or were angels preparing to take her to a better place. None of it mattered because a gun, with a silencer attached, was placed against the back of her head and her brains were blown out.
The soldier looked upon the Predator and waited for his next order. “The baby?” he asked.
“Hand him to me,” she responded.
He tucked his weapon in his leather gun belt and lifted the child out of his deceased mother’s arms. He handed the baby, who was now awake, to Nine. His face was speckled with drops of his mother’s blood and they resembled freckles.
“It’s so sad,” the Predator said in an artificial tone. “I want so badly to let you live but I know if I do, you will eventually kill me for revenge. So I have to do what I must.”
She raised her hand and placed it over the child’s face. She pressed her palm down, not needing a lot of energy to kill an infant. At first the child’s arms fluttered but after awhile he stopped moving. She was more like Kerrick than she realized.
She raised her hand and the baby’s eyes were closed. She stood up and placed the child back into his mother’s arms. Just at that moment the train stopped and she prepared to walk out with her goons until there was a noise.
She turned around and saw that the baby had survived after all. His eyes were open and his legs jerked before he cried loudly.
Nine couldn’t help but smile. He was a fighter like her. “That’s it, baby. Fight ‘till the last gasp,” she said, quoting Shakespeare.
The infant reminded her of herself and she would not leave him. Could not leave him. Instead, she decided to raise him as her own and mention nothing, ever, to him about his mother.
Cradling the baby in her arms, she looked down at his perfect face and walked toward the exit. “And I will raise you as a God.”
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