Chapter 8 - The Delivery Room of Horrors
Elena woke up strapped to a sterile delivery bed. The room had no windows, only cold fluorescent lights. She could hear the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor.
Beatriz stood over her, dressed in surgical scrubs.
"Where are they?" Elena asked, her voice raspy. "Where are Gabriel and Rosa?"
"Don't worry about them, dear. Focus on pushing," Beatriz said with a sickeningly sweet smile. "The contractions are two minutes apart."
Elena fought against the leather straps, but it was useless. Every wave of pain felt like a knife twisting in her gut. She was entirely alone, trapped in Beatriz’s private nightmare.
"Push, Elena. If you want the child to live, you must push," Beatriz commanded.
With a primal scream, Elena poured all her remaining strength into the final contraction. The room blurred. The sound of a faint, fragile cry pierced the air.
A baby boy.
Elena wept, reaching out her bound hands. "Let me hold him. Please."
Beatriz cleaned the child, looking at him with a terrifying sense of ownership. "He looks just like his grandfather. A true Valdés. You did well, Elena."
Beatriz turned her back to place the baby in a bassinet. In that split second, the heavy steel door of the medical room groaned. The lock clicked.
May you like
The door swung open, and Gabriel stood there, pale, leaning heavily on a makeshift crutch, covered in grease and blood. Behind him stood Rosa, holding a tablet displaying a live stream.
"It's over, Beatriz," Gabriel said, his voice trembling but steady. "We didn't go to the police. We went to the internet. Rosa streamed the entire break-in, the clinic, and your little confession here. Ten million people are watching you right now."
