That evening, Martha trudged back to our room. She clutched her heavily distended belly, groaning as she colpsed onto our bed. She had been acting strangely over the past few days, but today, she seemed even worse.

  "What's wrong with you? Your illness is getting worse really fast tonight," I approached her, asking anxiously. "Maybe I should help you up and we can go to the convent right now. They might still open their doors for us tonight."

  "No, I'm fine, my stomach is just suddenly acting up today. I'm sorry, I should have listened to you and ignored those leftovers. I'm sorry. I'll go to the convent with you tomorrow."

  "Alright. Let me help you."

  I began rubbing her belly, just like my parents used to do for me when I was little to soothe stomachaches from accidentally eating spoiled food. But her swollen belly wasn't soft like I expected; it was taut, rigid, and spasming in waves. And I felt something writhing inside her. For a moment, I panicked and stopped. Could she have caught some sort of parasite from those leftovers?

  Indeed, how could kids barely fifteen or sixteen like us possibly imagine how this strange new world was suffocating us with its horrifying, cruel realities? Just st week, I thought Martha was simply suffering from food poisoning from that filthy scraps. And now, with this parasite, I assumed it was much the same. We would surely get better once we were cared for, or given medicine. That was what I thought ...

  "There is definitely something wrong with your stomach. I think we need to head to the convent right now. We might still make it in time. I felt something moving inside you. Maybe they will help you get rid of that disgusting thing."

  "It's been like this for a few days actually. I don't think it's anything too serious. It's just a bit crampy today..." Then her face contorted in agony as the next contraction hit, completely contradicting her words.

  "Is that so? You clearly are in so much pain. Stop being stubborn. Let's go." I quickly wrapped a cloak around her, threw another over myself, pushed the door open, and helped her out of the inn.

  The midnight streets were deserted and pitch-bck. A few flickering candles from the seemingly wealthier houses provided the only light guiding us to the convent. But every step was sheer torture for Martha. She walked with immense difficulty, stopping every few steps to catch a breath, clutch her stomach and groan in agony. Whatever was inside her belly was certainly fulfilling its purpose perfectly: inflicting absolute torment upon its host.

  "Hang in there, Martha, just two more alleys and we'll be at the convent. Look, just finish this alley and go a little further, and you'll get treated," I encouraged her as we dragged ourselves through a dark, slimy, and foul-smelling alley. My eyes fixed on the distant light of the convent, which tonight felt strangely out of reach.

  "I can't, Anna, I... ugh..." Another wave of pain interrupted her. "I can't take it anymore." She slumped to the ground, writhing as she held her stomach. "You can run ahead and get someone to come here..."

  With every sudden cramp, she doubled over, curling up like a ball. Even though the night air was growing cold, heavy drops of sweat rolled down her chin, a testament to the sheer suffering she was enduring. I couldn't just leave her here, writhing in pain, to run to the convent alone. What if... I shook my head, forcing the thought out of my mind. I grabbed Martha's arm, trying to heave her up.

  "Just a little further. Come on, Martha. You can't let it beat you here. We have to get you treated, I won't give up on you. I already lost Marthery, I can't lose you too."

  "At least... please, just let me rest for a moment, my legs have no strength left to stand. Ahhhh."

  She couldn't hold it back anymore. It was a stifled scream, but to me, it was a cry that tore at my very soul. And beneath that yer of rough burp, every slight movement underneath her belly became vividly clear. A strange feeling washed over me. I couldn't expin it. But it made me want to stay by her side and take care of her.

  Suddenly, a rush of warm, viscous liquid gushed from beneath Martha.

  "I'm sorry, I think... I peed my pants."

  "That is not what we need to worry about right now. I feel like this isn't right at all; it looks like you're in bor."

  A sudden chill ran down my spine at my own words. Yes, it perfectly matched all of Martha's symptoms tely. Her bouts of vomiting were the morning sickness of pregnant women in their early trimesters. The ravenous, all-consuming appetite, along with the growth of the fetus, had caused her belly to swell and what I felt was the babies kicking. And finally, today was the day for Martha to give birth. The pain she is suffering now is the bor pain. That slimy fluid just now was her water breaking—the amniotic fluid—a clear sign that whatever was inside her was eager to enter this world.

  But what on earth was it? If this was a pregnancy, it was progressing far too quickly, dozens of times faster than a normal one. I was taught that a woman will need about 9 months to bear a child. and It hadn't even been three weeks since Martha was rescued and brought here... rescued... could it be...

  "Ahhh, I'm dying. It hurts so much. Help me, Anna, what do I do?"

  Martha's voice echoed through my mind, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. If Martha was truly in bor, then whatever was inside her needed to be expelled. I quickly reached for the waistband of her trousers and tried to pull them down, much to her shock.

  "What are you doing? This is no time for jokes." Despite the agonizing pain, her arms instinctively clutched her waistband, trying to stop me.

  "Trust me. And just do as I say, okay?"

  At that exact moment, another contraction hit, forcing Martha's head to bow forward. I didn't know if it was the sheer agony or if she had actually agreed to trust me, but she stopped resisting. Her legs had unconsciously spread apart, making removing the coarse trousers doubly difficult. It took a massive effort just to pull them down a little. The sound of tearing linen ripped through the air. Then Martha writhed, and as I reached down, I felt something—a round, slick object that seemed stuck. There was no longer any doubt; Martha was about to give birth to this thing.

  "Push it out, Martha! Come on, you can do it!"

  "What did you say? What does 'push' mean?"

  "Bear down, just let your body do what it's telling you to do! Just follow what your instinct guide."

  Even though neither of us truly understood how bor worked, her body seemed to be acting on primal instinct. She began to bear down with every contraction. The bulbous shape began to widen, and then I could feel it—eyes, a nose, and two sharply pointed ears. There was no mistaking it; those monsters had impregnated her, and now she was forced to fulfill her duty as a vessel for their cursed abominations. With one final contraction, the head crowned completely.

  "What is that? I felt something just slip out of my body."

  My throat tightened. Even in the pitch-bck darkness, I knew exactly what was right in front of me. It was undeniably a goblin. The exact same kind of creature that had attacked and robbed me of my beloved home. Oh, why was God so cruel to her?

  "Say something, Anna." Uhhhh. "Why hasn't the pain stopped? The cramps are still there, tell me what to do!"

  "Keep pushing. Come on. Just a little more."

  And then the hideous goblin slid completely out of Martha, flopping into my waiting hands. I cast it aside onto the slimy cobblestones, right where it belonged.

  "What did I just expel? Was that the parasite?" Uhhh... "Why isn't the pain stopping? Help me!"

  As soon as she finished speaking, her massive belly continued to heave. Her heavy sweat mingled with the foul, metallic stench in the air, making me gag. The contractions relentlessly continued, and before I could fully process it, my hands felt another smooth, round crown slipping out of Martha's canal. There was another one still inside her womb! I had to open my hands again to catch this wretched creature. A few more pushes, and this narrow, dark alley welcomed the second goblin into the world.

  Martha was utterly exhausted now; her ragged, heavy panting mixed with soft whimpers as she y sprawled in the puddle of filth. The contractions began to subside after the two foreign entities were expelled from her body, but it seemed it wasn't quite over. Shortly after, a small, slimy oval mass of afterbirth was pushed out, temporarily closing the curtain on this horrifying, haunting night.