Chapter 3: Broken

The tunnels echoed with the banging of pipes which repeated the same pattern, the noise would halt for a moment then begin again. Secret messages carried along the pipes of expected supplies and assistance when in a situation. The constant rhythm traveled through the hall, down a side corridor and slipped into a room where walls lined with many hardbound books, ranging from old English fiction and the most recent realistic book to hit the city above. Cool rocks formed the walls of the chamber, adding a chill to the atmosphere which was difficult to rid from the tunnels. A wounded woman stirred in deep slumber, ears accustomed to the violent honking of horns and bright city lights, not familiar with the soothing tapping that reminded her of a simple lullaby. Heavy eyelids struggled to slip open, the ends of her lashes brushed against the bandage wrapped over her eyes. Her hand searched her face, concerned damage from the mugging impaired her vision. The tips of her fingers ran along the smooth forehead, down the bridge of her nose, across prominent cheekbones, brushed along full lips and wrapped around her rounded chin, her worries settled once she realized nothing further than her eyes covered. She felt different, empty, yet she wanted to stay the same, for everyone to view her as the same woman who took joy in reading and long walks in the park hand in hand with her husband. However, the little dream for a family destroyed, she did not understand the reason fate decided to grant her a wonderful chance for the bond she had with her husband to always share a deeper connection only to steal the unborn life before she thought of names or told her husband the truth about becoming a father. No one spoke to Jennie about what happened to her child, yet she knew the baby was no longer apart of her world, apart of her future.

A sharp pain shot through her side, rolling on a hot wave washed over her fragile body, elevating her temperature to a new fever. Sweat drizzled down her temples, a damp blanket covered her quivering body. She kicked the wool blankets and knitted afghan off, the material too thick for her body to handle as she struggled regain the normal flow of breathing. Her chest constricted with a hefty weight that caused her labored breathing, yet nothing was on her to expel such pain. Guilt weighed abundant over her mind, weakening her body into a frail state as she tried to keep up her strength in a losing battle. Her mind plagued with the reminder of her failure to protect her child, lacking in physical strength she ran from the attacker and plead for mercy. She could not protect herself from him and her punishment for her weakness was the loss of her child.

Jennie's sensitive ears caught heavy footsteps journeyed closer to her room, she remained still in the bed and acted as though she was asleep. Jennie did not want to converse with anyone, to allow the truth of her innermost emotions about what happened spill from her lips. She needed to hurry and recover, once completely healed she would soon be granted the opportunity to return home, to begin her life over and build a new plan for her future. Her lips curled tightly together, silencing her cries from the agony of her miscarriage and the heartache over a lost possibility. Fear crept down her spine and settled in the pit of her stomach of the approaching stranger, she questioned if the person meant her harm or created a comfortable illusion of safety for her to fall into before they pounced. Leather bound boots with little rubber soles inched closer to her bed, she nearly felt the stranger's breath on her face. She balled her hands into fists, preparing herself for a fight if the cloaked figure meant harm.

"I did not mean to startle you, but you must remain still for you have a couple of broken ribs." The stranger revealed, grabbing the end of a main blanket and gradually tucked the comforter over her chest.

"My eyes?" Jennie panicked, leaning her head back on the stack of plush pillows, dark curls spilled over the edges as the ends tickled the mattress made of stuffing.

"Your eyes are perfect, as in nothing has impaired your sight." He reassured with confidence, grabbing the top of his desk chair, he dragged the legs along the dusty flooring by the side of the bed. He sat down, the ancient wood creaked with the strain of his bulky weight. "You must keep yourself wrapped with the blankets to protect yourself from further illness. The air is as cold as the arctic during winter. With the starting of a fever, it is of the utmost importance you stay warm. The blankets are somewhat uncomfortable, but necessary."

"What about my baby?" She questioned with alert, her hand tightly gripped her flat stomach and the same emptiness made her blood run cold. She did not need the stranger to reveal the truth about the tragic loss, she hoped he could not confirm her suspicions. The simple question pierced the stranger's ears with such pain, he could not bear to bring himself to say the words he knew she did not want to listen, to accept the fact the child was gone and she did not have the power to change what took place. "Please tell me..."

What am I to say? How do I explain the life she once planned for no longer exists? Vincent thought, he sensed her impending sadness and felt helpless in easing her pain. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he contemplated releasing the shackles he wrapped around the truth to let it slip from his mouth to enter her ears.

"Your silence tells me everything." Jennie whispered, her fingers tugged on a loose thread as she attempted to regain authority over her erratic emotions and gather the courage to face what she did.

"I am truly sorry." He whispered, his hand gripped the edge of the bed for support, the strength slipped from his arms, making them wobble.

"Why didn't you just let me die? I can't take these feelings anymore." She pleaded, turning her head to the side, the river of tears continued to flow down her moist cheeks. The shame devoured her heart, poisoning her mind with the constant punishment for her foolishness that everything in her life would fall into place, her husband elated he would be a father and together they lived blissfully in their dream.

His blue eyes locked her pale face, her beautiful features ruined by the void in her heart. The healthy glow she once radiated completely diminished the moment she realized she lost her opportunity in becoming a new mother. He reached to graze her cheek with his finger to wipe away the wet trails. His eyes caught a glimpse of his long claws and thick hair poked from under the long-sleeved shirt. The hand belonged to a monster in a fable, not an ordinary man. His hand paused before he ruined the little conversation they shared and retreated back to his lap, fingers curled into a fist. His brows knit together, casting a dark shadow over his soft eyes as lines creased along his scowl, defining his boiled anger and flared frustration. He never despised who he was or his unusual appearance until confronted with a perfect beauty who laid in his bed, beaten and broken. He knew Jennie was in a weakened state of mind and longed for death to release her of the consistent torment, yet he felt her strength, her will to survive the tragedy.

"I could not bear the sight of having to watch you perish. I know your child was precious and my father attempted everything to save that little life, but you endured everything and survived. You were on the verge of death, yet you made your way back to this life. You might wish for release, but I am grateful you are alive." He confessed, glancing off to the side as his cheeks grew rosy from his boldness in expressing his true thoughts.

Jennie was different from the others, the stranger felt a deep connection with the woman he knew nothing about, yet longed to know everything. Deep in the corner of his mind, he knew she would gradually recover from her anguish and return to the world above where she belonged, but a small part of him desired she would find greater comfort in the sacred realm of the tunnels than the harsh reality she was born into.

"How am I suppose to tell my husband he did have a child, but doesn't anymore? Will he blame me for what happened?" Jennie thought aloud, her left hand brushed the sweat from her forehead as her engagement ring sparkled in the flickering light. The edges of the small diamond gleamed which caught his eyes, causing his heart to sink with disappointment. His mind understood she had been with child, yet did not draw to the conclusion she was a married woman. His eyes traveled a little lower down her ring finger to see the gold band symbolizing her union to another man.

"I do not know your husband, but I know he will not blame you for what happened. If you explain everything, he will surely understand the fault does not lay with you and he will mourn this child just as you are. Through the pain and grief, you will become closer again and build a plan for your future." Vincent comforted, setting aside his feelings as he tried to sooth Jennie's aching heart as he placed a thoughtful hand on her forearm covered by the blanket, careful he did not scratch her through the material.

"What's your name?" Jennie asked, her voice hoarse from crying. She turned her head to face him, the cloth still wrapped over her eyes, cloaking the stranger's identity.

Silence consumed the cool room, he remained still in the chair, his heart beat faster as it hammered against the inner walls of his chest with hesitation. The palms of his hands dampened from the increasing tension which ripped at the seams of his stone authority and reservations. He never met a woman like Jennie who took notice in his kindness and wanted to the know the name of her savor, her only companion. Her request was reasonable and simple yet he found himself hesitating to divulge the greatest secret which was his name.

"Vincent. My name is Vincent." He confessed tenderly, he gazed at her feminine face, a small sense of hope touched her pale skin, allowing her to glow with the possibility for a new chance, a greater hope for something better.

"I'm Jennie, but you already knew that." She joked, a light chuckle escaped her mouth, immediately her hand covered her lips. She stressed the timing for laughter which was not right when she just lost her child, by allowing herself to begin to take joy in the small moments would make the loss seem meaningless. She condemned her child to death when she was careless in believing her day would be like any other, by laughing she made a mockery of her unborn baby and embarrassed herself with her childish behavior.

"Do not be ashamed to lighten this foreboding mood. You need to express your inner most feelings about this tragedy." He said, his deep soothing voice raised an octave, encouraging Jennie to release the anguish she hid in her battered spirit and console with Vincent all she continued to experience in silence.

"It's improper to laugh at a time like this, or consider trying to feel better when I'm the cause of this whole situation." She attested, her thin fingers clawed at the bandage over her eyes, the damp, rough fabric glued to her skin, her eyelids stuck open and the frigid air dried her brilliant green eyes, fresh tears stung her eyes and rolled down smooth plains. "I can't take this bandage anymore." Jennie cried, shoving her fingers under the tight material and tore the gauze off, tossing it to the side as the thin fabric fluttered down to the stone flooring.

Vincent shot up from the chair, the sudden force caused the armchair to tumble to the hard floor. He bolted up the small case of steps, and rounded the corner until he stopped in the side hallway, leaning a hand on the wall to support himself as his knees buckled. His heart raced at a faster pace, eyes wide with shock. His mind questioned if Jennie caught sight of his true form.

"Vincent, I'm sorry. I just couldn't take that thing anymore. Please, don't leave me alone...with only my memories." She begged, longing for his comforting presence to return and dull the pain in her heart, the dagger which slowly punctured her chest with such guilt and shame.

Turning on her side, she quietly wept over the day's events, feeling her chest heave with confusion and hurt. A few hours ago, she planned for a family which she never desired, now wanted the opportunity to have the lost chance returned to her, greater caution would be taken in ensuring her child's preservation. Jennie promised she would take care of her next child, all she wanted was another chance to prove she would be a fit mother.