the haematoma in your heart: chantale

[chantale]

my corrupt nature is empty of grace; bent unto sin, and only unto sin; and that continually. You’re a terrible mother. Terrible father, too, thanks to some weird magic that’s enchanted you. You left a baby for dead, that first one, Prince Charming’s cunning little tyke. You had that mutant daughter, that inbred bitch, whose flesh dripped like candlewax come nightfall. You had that throwaway girl, a proper no one. That weak, sniveling little son who continues to wail and gnash his teeth while he drifts around the deserts like a waif. And that other son, the one you sired, you were just fantastic to him – killed your own grandbaby because it looked at you wrong, how’s that for maternal (or paternal) instinct? You aren’t meant to reproduce. Dead things should breed flies, not children. A child, our child stutters the girl, and my corpse masterpiece remains, smiling. She doesn’t know why she asks for such things, of course – she has no love for children, had the blood of her own granddaughter splattered across her not so long ago. (She hadn’t known, but it would not have mattered overmuch. She’s born her own half-sister, family lines mean nothing.) She doesn’t know if this one will live or die. She doesn’t know a lot of things. She only knows she wants to see the mare grown fat and swollen like a tick, with whatever strange thing they can create. Her own body is ill suited for children. Caius was sickly, and such a pathetic thing. She’d stayed with him for far too long. She is all sour milk and slow heart. She’s much better as the father, where she does not have to bear such horrific creatures in her own loins. “To prove yourself,” she lies. (There is no reason with her, there never is). “Death is easy. It gives you no pause. But how will you react when you’re giving life instead of death? When the seed of a child erupts within you and tears its way from you, when nature calls upon you to love it?” She is blathering nonsense through a wicked, senseless smile. And she is changing, body growing stronger, ready to cover Nykeln. Ready to create what she has no right to create. chantale how original a sin.

so I say like 'fade to black' and they can reconnect when the kid is born?