Time: Night 004, before I Can Has Organs?
Summary: Rayne finds the dead baby, and flashes back to something in her past.
Warnings: Emo Rayne is emo.
It was hard for Rayne to not rush through this part of the night. While she was mostly sure that Namine would be fine with Mewtwo, she didn't like having the girl out of her sight during the night. However, the redhead didn't want her to be any more scared than she had to be, by taking her with her to see what new horrors the house had for them that night. As such, she had already made sure Namine hadn't been with her when she discovered the body down in the surgery room, or seen her feed off the dissected corpse. So far, she had investigated most of the bottom half of the house. The Grand Room was oddly silent, and it was more than just the lack of construction and shadows. But, it was warm. She would have to remember to bring Namine there later if the girl ever got too cold. Hopefully, that wouldn't happen now that she had better clothes.
The kitchen had been disgusting. She hadn't even ventured into it, the smell that wated from it being enough of a warning to not enter. From what she could surmise, the food was ruined. Luckily, there was plenty stocked up in the room that her and Namine shared. The young girl would be fine, in that area. And as long as Rayne didn't linger in the greenhouse, she could manage with the fakes of dried blood. It would not be pleasurable, eating them as they were, but it would be sustenance. The mother's study hadn't given her any trouble. Other than the air of extreme unease that came with the room, as it did with most of the rest of the mansion, it had almost seemed normal. But this... This she both should have been, and had not been expecting.
Staring blankly down at the dead baby in the crib, Rayne easily assessed that it had been dead for a short amount of time. Rigor mortis had passed, but it hadn't yet started to bloat, or decompose, though there was bruising that was just slightly visible on the underside of it's arms and back where the blood had settled thanks to gravity. She didn't know the the baby had died.There were no wounds, or broken bones. There were no signs of suffocation, though it would be hard to tell if one had simply held a pillow over it's face until it stopped breathing. Perhaps it had simply died of natural or unknown causes. SIDS, she believed it was called. Whatever it was, it was clean.
With a blink, she remembered staring down at another crib when she was much younger, though there was nothing clean about what was inside it. The pile of meat and bones had once been a baby. There was still a whole hand, part of a ribcage. Blood was everywhere on the crib, and the wall behind it. A vampire attack that she had been too late to stop, or even catch who had done it. Something that she shouldn't have blamed herself for at fourteen, but she had, right before her mind had finally pieced together what she was seeing, and she had to rush outside to empty her stomach of what little was in it, her eyes watering with the effort. There had been red, painful burns on the edge of her eyelids for weeks afterwards, something she was sure added a level of both patheticness and intimidation to her already homeless self.
Shaking herself from that memory, Rayne turned away from the crib, rubbing a hand over her face. She would never admit outloud how that incident had given her nightmares for years. She had seen bodies before that point. Her mother's, more than one homeless person's during the winters of New York, but that had been her first bloody corpse. It had stuck with her. In ways, it still did. She had never hurt a child, or infant. She couldn't imagine someone that young doing anything to deserve it, and she doubted she would ever do such a thing. In ways, she was certianly evil, and insane, but she was not a monster. Giving a heavy and drawn out sigh, the dhampir ran a hand through her hair, steeling herself as she left the nursery.
She still had the rest of the house to check, after all.