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D1C8 - Developments

D1C8 - Developments

D1C8 - Developments

Two and a half months have passed since my birth. I have since been able to slightly move my head and limbs and wriggle a bit, although I am still a long way away from being able to flip my body or sit up, let alone crawl. Nevertheless, I am doing my best. My blankets are thick yet soft, so I have taken to the habit of making blankets angels as if I were lying in snow making snow angels. It may seem like a silly thing for a grown adult to do, but what do I care about your opinions? I am a baby. B-A-B-Y. Besides it was fun.

Everyday, I eat, sleep, play with mommy, then sleep again. It was a very irregular schedule, yet I felt truly free, no expectations to do anything, or save someone from a life or death wound. Just I, me and myself living in the here and now. It wasn’t as if I was unsatisfied by this kind of lifestyle, it was just slightly boring at times. Also not being able to go to the toilet also took some of the fun out of a free lifestyle. As much as I am ashamed to say this, I had absolutely no bladder control. Things just... came and went. My mom, being the amazing parent that she is, put up with it and never failed to change my nappy.

Although I say nappy, it was more like an inexpensive rag that felt like cotton carefully wrapped to let my tail loose. Yes, that’s right, I had a tail. It was fluffy thing that grew out from my tailbone. it was as long as my legs, flexible to the point of ridiculousness and it seemed to have a mind of its own. In scientific terms, I had little to none voluntary muscles in my tail, it was all involuntary. It was actually rather fun trying to catch and grab my tail and for a moment I felt as if I understood why dogs like chasing their tails. Just thinking about that made me giggle and laugh. Which then, of course, caused my mother to send me another endearing smile. Dad had truly struck gold with my mom.

Unlike the tufts of hair on my scalp, the hair on my tail was furry. Another weird thing about it was that the fur on my tail was all white, unlike the black colour of my hair. It wasn’t the greyish white of age either, it was silvery in colour and it was silky smooth like my mothers hair. I guess that’s another thing I inherited from her then. Whilst I had been engrossed with my serpent-like tail which liked whacking my arms, my mother since had me moved to a baby's crib. She would then disappear for short amounts of time, although she never failed to appear during all 5 of my feeding times. She would also always sing me to sleep and bring me out of the crib to sleep beside her.

Of course, even so, I missed my mommy whenever she was gone. I never faulted her for that though, I could tell that she was a very important and busy person. Firstly, she was my dad’s wife, and if I were to assume that my dad held a high position of authority, then my mother would be doing whatever she could to support him. Secondly, I could see her wearing very regal clothing at times when she reappeared for my feeding from wherever she had gone off to, this led me to believe that she was also an important person. One can't be too selfish after all.

Often, when she was not around, she would leave Ashura to play with me. Ashura would then play with me, sometimes playing peekaboo and other sort of games. The one I like the most was where he held a ball of yarn above and let me swipe at it. Sometimes, if I was lucky, mommy would allow Ashura to bring his pet dog into the room to play. The two of them would then play a few rough and tumble games while I laughed at Ashura for getting his ass handed to him by a dog.

Of course, there were also times where nobody visited me. I felt supremely lonely whenever that happened but I didn’t complain unless it was near my meal times. Whenever, I was left alone, I would pretend to be Scofield trapped in the prison. I hatched elaborate plans to escape my prison and get to the books with gold stenciling. My goal was, after all, to learn the written language of this world. However, since I wasn’t even able to sit up, these plans could be called delusions of grandeur. The only thing I could do was wait another one or two months until my body developed enough for movement.

And so I waited. I soon learnt that my mommy leaving me alone at times was only a phase and before long she was back at my side all day and night. I guessed that whatever had made her leave me alone was probably pretty important, most likely something to do with whatever my dad and brother was worried about. Now that whatever that matter was had been taken care of, my mom was now back at my side and my dad and brothers resumed their regular visits.

Before long, another 3 months had passed. I was now 5 and a half months old. My body had grown quite a bit, I must say. My hair was no longer just tufts and I now had a full head of hair, albeit a still very thin layer of it. I was also now able to eat solid foods, and my mother soon picked up on my love for melted cheese with milk-soaked bread, so I mostly ate that for brunch and tea, not that they had brunch and tea in this world. Either way, I cared not, all I knew was dairy products for the win.

Of course my mother would still occasionally breastfeed me, but 2 out of my 5 meals were solid food, which was absolutely fantastic. My second favorite food was applesauce, once, my mommy had left in the middle of feeding me and I finished off the entire jar of sauce with my own hands. Needless to say, never again did she bring the entire jar of sauce with her, she only ever brought bowls of that amazing stuff afterwards. At that, I can only blame myself for my greed.

Nonetheless, that wasn’t the largest change that happened, the biggest change was that my plans for world domination had finally taken another step! Is what I would like to say but in truth what really happen was that II was finally able sit up and roll my fat arse around. Not that having a fat ass is bad, I mean, a girl’s gotta have the right places stick out, amirite? In the distance, I could almost hear someone singing, they see me rollin’ they hatin’. To them I’d ask who’s hatin’. To which they would then reply. “Whoever sent the FREAKING ASSASSINS!”

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Aye.

Assassins.

Honest to gods, dagger wielding, black clothed assassins,

On a day like every other day, after finishing my last meal of the day I fall asleep. As my mother brought me out of the crib onto her bed, she sang me a lullaby and the sandman soon paid me a visit. I dreamt of lakes of soda and mountains of Ice-cream. Vanilla, chocolate, cookie and cream, mango, you name it, it was there. It wasn’t healthy but it sure tasted good. My gorging and slurping of ice-cream and soda was rudely interrupted. In the dream sky above me where candy floss clouds floated. A gigantic fruit knife appeared. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it was just that. I mean, like the saying goes where there’s smoke there’s fire, where there’s a fruit knife, there’s fruitcake.

Except this time, I was pretty sure, there was no fucking fruitcake!

Either that or the fucking fruitcake is me!

As the knife descends, I try to move, to dodge the gigantic falling blade. I have no wish to be chopped in half like some vegetable.

I try and I try but I am rooted to the spot. It is as if chains were holding me to the spot. I can only watch on in morbid fascination as the knife slowly falls, soon reaching terminal velocity.

I see the blade grow in in size as it falls on me, destined for my soft baby head.

Panicking, I wake up and begin wailing like a air siren.

And what do you know, the moment I wake up I see a dark figure holding a knife above me. Fuck me!

I escape one blade only to find another heading for me.

I wail even louder and began thrashing about. I roll to one side as my assassin brings down his dagger, barely dodging the glinting blade.

Thud!

The dagger drives into the mattress with a vicious energy. I can hear it screaming for my flesh.

I feel the blood drain from my face, if I had been one second late, that would have been a lethal head wound. Forget about internal fucking hemorrhage, I’d be dead before I even knew what was going on!

Feathers fly out of the mattress as the assassin pulls his dagger free.with both hands, he turns and attempts to grab my leg but I had long since seen through his intentions.

In a mad dash to get away, I roll to the side once and fall off the bed. All the while, wailing my poor throat out. Heh, at least I still have a throat, I probably can't say the same for whoever was on night patrol.

As I hit the carpeted floor, a burst of pain fills my elbows, I can only hope I didn’t break anything important. I swear to god if my growth is stunted because of these fuckers, I will hunt down every last one of them and gut them like a fish before feeding them their own entrails.

I try to ignore the pain, but unlike the pain I suffered before in my mind, this was REAL.Pushing on, I try to find a place to hide. I do not know how but I can feel the assassin move. I look around and find nothing to hide behind.

I hear the bed creak as my assassin gets off it.

Scrambling, I duck and crawl under the small space under the bed, scraping my elbows and knees against the stone floor. My would be assassin sees this and he drops down to one knee, reaching his arm under the bed, trying to get at me. I push and push trying to avoid his hands.

I can almost feel his desire to kill me. However, his arms are not long enough and he fails to catch hold of me.

The bastard is extremely persistent, he begins to lay prone to crawl to get to me but his gear gets in the way, clunking against the bed frame.

I don’t know what to do.

I look out from under the bed, searching for my mother.

Near the balcony, I see my mother ripping out some dark figures throat. Chunks of flesh fall from her hand as she lets go of the body. The body slumps and blood gushes out from the neck like a fountain. Her silver hair shining in the moonlight is painted red with the gushing blood.

Vaguely in the back of my mind where everything was still rational. A several stray thoughts crossed my mind.

‘They sent more than one?’

‘Is the target me or my mother?’

‘What do I do? What CAN I do?’

‘Where are the guards?Silenced?Or Betrayed?’

‘Will I live through this?’

‘FUCK!’

While the rational me calculated the answers to these, the normal me was panicking her ass off.

With no options left, my terror morphs into a huge all consuming beast and I feel my panic reaching new heights.

Scared stiff, I let out a bloodcurdling scream of terror.

Fuck! I’m a doctor, not a fucking fighter!

Hearing my scream, I see my mother spotting the assassin trying to reach under the bed where I was.

With a scream of her own, she charges him.

The last thought I had before I blacked out was.

‘Nine tails?’

(AN: If you guys need some imagery for the tails, go to 2:22 in the link below. Just think of 9 tails instead of four. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fOh3o3m7Cs0)

So this was my first official action scene of the story, how did you guys like it? Half the time, I felt as if I should pull a hat trick and have the MC fry her enemies using lightning magic, but then that would ruin my plans for character development lol. Anyways hope you enjoyed it!