child of the whore

            Finally, after ages of going down on kings and meticulous sex, a creature was conceived—an embryo growing in your defiled body. Off of your filth, sin, and detestable ways it nourished and thus became defiled as well. Through a term of pregnancy, hate was learned—a hate for all that you are, all that is you. All the while, you foolishly believed the fetus in your belly was growing with your love and care to love and care for you.

            But no! It prematurely clawed its way out of your vagina, tearing you open—all to your screaming agony. And it giggled gleefully the entire time, for finally, it was free to put an end to its poison. Smiling, dripping with your blood, this creature clenched its fist and using all its might, struck you in the head, tore off your flesh, ended you. But alas, your child was unaware it needed you alive to survive, and it died with your final breath.