Ada_Miniscent

The heels of her shoes were hitting the floor, making a rhythmic beat that gave off a bad vibe.
 
She got to where I was and crouched down to my level. "Huh, poor baby," she said in a cry-like voice as she shook her head in self-pity and patted my head, then whispered 
 
"Shh, don't cry; it will soon be over," she said, still gently patting my head.
 
She brought out a small, shiny silver knife that I hadn't noticed that she had been holding for a while.
 
"Clara, please stop whatever you are planning to do." I pleaded in fear and looked at her in horror as I tried to process what she intended to do with the knife. 
 
"My, my, my, someone is scared; don't worry, I won't be too hard on you." She coaxed me and laughed like a maniac when she saw the expression on my face.
 
"Please, for the sake of our friendship, please stop." I begged for mercy.
 
"Shut! Shut the fuck up!" She punched me in the face until her hand was colored with my blood. 
 
I was too weak to fight back as she slashed my stomach slowly and deeply, making a pathway for the blood to flow freely like a stream.
 
"Honey, you don't have to stain your dress. Let the guards do this," Gabriel said as he saw my blood pouring out of my stomach's hundred-meter radius.
 
She dipped her hand forcefully into my stomach and brought out my under-formed fetus, then used the knife to cut the placenta that connected me and my baby. 
 
She stabbed it repeatedly without mercy while I looked on in pain and helplessness as my baby died tragically before me. 
 
"Raven! Bring the rest now!" She ordered in her authoritative tone that she normally uses whenever she wants something done with an immediate effect. 
 

Sweet Revenge Of Pain

"The ritual doesn't have to end this way," Demion said, his eyes fixed on her. "There's always another way."

For a moment, Eleanor hesitated. She could feel the magic swirling around her, the pull of the ritual tugging at her very soul. She had come so far and had sacrificed so much. Could she walk away now?

The Dark Lord's weakened voice interrupted her thoughts. "Eleanor… finish it."

Eleanor turned to look at him, her heartbreak as she saw the toll the ritual had taken on him. His once-powerful form was now gaunt, his skin pale as his life force drained into the magic. He had been willing to sacrifice everything for their cause, and yet here she was, wavering.

"I can't," Eleanor whispered, tears stinging her eyes. "I can't do this."

"You must," the Dark Lord urged, his voice fading. "This is our only chance."

A Desperate Alliance