Doctor Charles Auger turned into the driveway of the Jawbone Medical Center and turned off the engine of his ancient Cadillac which proceeded to rattle itself to sleep. Medical Center was an overly august name for a thousand-square-foot prefab structure with flaking paint and a gravel parking lot, but it was the only medical care facility in the small desert town of Jawbone, Arizona.

Charles founded the clinic twenty years ago when he returned to Jawbone after obtaining his license, intent on helping his small community become a better place to live. He wasn’t sure how much he had accomplished in that time, but at least the citizens no longer needed to endure a ninety-minute drive to Kingman to obtain basic medical services.

He saluted Margie Baker who was on the phone at reception. He wondered if it was an appointment or just her gossiping with one of the other ladies in town.

“Good morning, Doctor,” Judy Wells, his only nurse, said as he walked through the doors into the treatment area.

Judy was stitching a long gash on Roy Barbie’s left arm. Roy was the town drunk. Perhaps he was being too judgemental of the man but, after a fall that injured his back at Arizona Chloride where he worked, Roy seemed determined to spend his disability pension on whiskey and not much else.

“What happened to the arm, Roy?” 

“Oh, you know me, doc,” he said in his rheumy alcoholic’s voice. “Bashed into something last night, damned if I remember what.”

“Well, Judy will get you patched up just right. You taking those vitamins I recommended?”

Roy blew a wet raspberry. “I don’t cotton to that stuff, Doc.”

Charles continued to his desk at the back of the room, shaking his head. It was just a matter of time before he ended up pronouncing the man dead from his excesses.

The treatment room was one large space that took up the bulk of the Medical Center. A dozen beds separated by faded blue curtains provided space for treating the locals. It wasn’t much, but it was his domain and he was proud of it.

The day proceeded like most days had over the years, cuts, bruises, the occasional sick child, and then there was Pete “Buddy” O’Brien. Buddy was a hypochondriac who came into the center at least once a week, sometimes more if he had watched a medical drama. 

Buddy was a sixty-eight-year-old retiree and over the years had visited the Medical Center to be treated for whooping cough, kidney stones, COVID, Dengue fever, a herniated disk, and a dozen other ailments, none of which were real. Charles figured that Buddy was simply lonely and coming to the center was his way of feeling seen in an uncaring world. Charles didn’t mind; caring for his community’s mental health was as important as caring for their ailing bodies.

“Afternoon, Buddy. What brings you to us today?”

“Howdy, Doctor. I think I’ve got a real problem. I’ve been showing symptoms and I think I might be developing Tardive dyskinesia.”

Buddy had been watching too many commercials again. He didn’t realize that his named malady was normally a side effect of prolonged medication use, specifically anti-psychotics. The only medication Buddy took was the occasional aspirin. 

“That sounds pretty serious. What led you to believe you have this?”

“Well, I’ve been seeing these ads…” 

There it was. 

“I’ve had uncontrolled motion in my leg. It just starts tapping and won’t stop, even after ten or fifteen minutes.”

“You know, it’s a normal nerve reaction to—”

A woman’s agonized scream cut off his explanation. Judy, Buddy, and Charles all stared toward the reception area. The scream shattered the expectant silence again.

Charles pointed at Buddy. “Hold that thought.”

He jogged to the double doors to reception and pushed one open. 

Margie sat at the desk with the phone frozen halfway to her ear. Leaning against the desk was a short, olive-skinned woman with sweat-soaked red hair. She was barefoot and wore a long smoke-gray kaftan that, while loose, could not hide that she was extremely pregnant. Her beautiful face contorted in agony as she gave another scream. 

“Judy,” he shouted and ran to the woman’s side.

Charles wrapped a supporting arm around the woman’s back as Judy crashed through the doors. 

“I’m a doctor, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Infantem,” she groaned. “Infantem venit.”

It had been decades since medical school but the words sounded like Latin to Charles. Infantem probably meant infant. Venit? What was venit? In a flash, it came to him, Caesar. Veni vidi vici, I came, I saw, I conquered. 

“The baby? The baby is coming?”

The woman nodded and then doubled over again with another shriek of agony.

“Judy, prep an epidural. I’ll put her in bed six and start an exam.”

Judy turned and fled back into the treatment area. Charles supported the shaking woman’s weight and led her through the doors. 

As they walked, the woman spoke rapidly in a low, raspy voice. Charles thought it was Latin but it was too fast to catch more than a word or two. He didn’t recognize the woman. She wasn’t a local unless she had moved into town in the last few weeks. Nobody remained a stranger in a place as small as Jawbone for very long, the town’s gossips made sure of that. 

He helped her into a bed and motioned for her to lie back. Grabbing a stethoscope he motioned to her swollen belly.

“May I examine you?”

“Adiuva me,” she groaned. 

Charles wasn’t sure what that meant but her eyes pleaded with him to help.

He listened at varied points around her abdomen. While he worked, Judy rolled a cart to his side. On the cart was a syringe filled with the requested epidural and a selection of gynecological tools. He silently blessed her competence, he could not have asked for a better nurse.

He listened intently. The normal gurglings and thumps of the human body filled his ears. He shifted the scope’s position several times, listening, but he could not detect the fetal heartbeat. He fervently hoped that the child was badly positioned. Having made it this far into the pregnancy, losing the child would be devastating to the woman. 

Shifting to the foot of the bed, he lifted the woman’s knees and moved her dress out of the way. He was surprised that she wore no underwear but it made his job easier. She was well along in labor, her cervix was dilated five centimeters. She still had several hours to go. 

The woman twitched and shivered in pain as he performed his examination. He had to lessen her suffering if he was going to help her. 

“Judy, can you help me get her into a hospital gown? I need to administer the epidural.”

Together they helped the woman to her feet and using pantomime, explained the need to disrobe. Before Charles could turn away to provide her any privacy she shrugged off her clothes. She was completely naked beneath the flowing kaftan. 

Charles blushed and turned away, allowing Judy to assist the woman into a hospital gown. He was far from a prude and had seen more than his share of naked females in his profession but her lack of modesty was jarring compared to the small-town women he normally treated.

They positioned the woman on her side in the bed and, after sterilizing the base of her spine, Charles administered the epidural. After several minutes the woman’s spasms decreased and the agonized expression left her face. The look of gratitude in her eyes nearly brought Charles to tears.

“You shouldn’t feel the pain as badly now,” he said. “You still have several hours until the baby comes.”

The look on her face showed that she didn’t understand a word. Where the heck was this woman from that she only spoke Latin? Charles scoured his memory for a few words. He needed to learn something about her. Other than scientific terms for body parts he didn’t know much Latin. He knew one non-medcical word, at least he could learn her name.

“Nomen?” 

He pointed at himself. “Charles.” 

He pointed at the woman and asked again, “Nomen?”

“Natara,” she said, tapping her chest.

“Natara,” Charles echoed. “What a beautiful name. Don’t worry, Natara. We’re going to take good care of you.”

As the epidural took hold and the pain lessened, the woman’s eyes drooped. She was exhausted from the agony of her early labor. Charles pattered her hand and smiled at her and then left her alone to get some rest.

He pulled Judy aside. “Do you recognize her?”

“Nope. Never saw her before. Maybe she was just driving through and went into labor?”

“Through Jawbone? We’re miles from the interstate. Whatever. At least she got here so we can help.”

He glanced out the window and then walked outside and looked around. The parking lot was deserted except the staff’s cars. Buddy’s ancient pickup was parked in the empty lot next to the clinic. 

Walking around the building he checked the street side in case Natara had parked her car on the narrow road but again, there was no vehicle in sight. How had she gotten there, and barefoot no less?

He went back inside to find Judy and Margie muttering thick as thieves.

“Did you see who dropped her off?”

“No,” Margie said. “She just came stumbling through the door, screaming.”

“Curioser, and curioser.” 

Charles drummed his fingers on the desk. How had his mystery patient arrived? The clinic was on the edge of town and while it was walkable, it was unlikely that a woman in her condition hiked from anywhere in the surrounding community. Someone could have dropped her off and then left but he couldn’t think of anyone in the small burg who would be so callous as to simply abandon a woman in labor.

Either way, she was safe and resting and he had a few hours to prepare for the baby’s arrival. 

“Doctor,” Judy said. “Do you want me to tell Buddy to head home?”

Buddy. He had completely forgotten the old man. 

“Crap. I’ll finish up with him and get him out of here. We don’t need him underfoot with a woman in labor. Besides, he’ll probably think he can catch pregnancy or something.”

The three of them laughed at the absurd image of the old hypochondriac claiming to be pregnant.

Charles walked back to the first patient bay but Buddy was no longer waiting on the bed. 

“Buddy?” He called but received no answer.

Maybe the old man had snuck out while they were occupied.

He decided to check on his other patient. Walking down the aisle he noticed that the privacy curtain was open.

Inside the small bay, standing at the foot of the bed was Buddy. The old man was completely naked. 

Natara lay on the bed, also naked. Her hospital gown was on the floor in tatters. She didn’t appear to be harmed and lay with her knees up, panting rhythmically. 

“What the hell are you doing, Buddy?”

Buddy turned his head toward Charles. It moved slowly like a rusty automaton. Charles recoiled when he saw the old man’s eyes. They were glazed and the pupils were covered by a white haze as if he had developed severe cataracts within the short time since he had last seen him. 

“The Lord requires a sacrifice.” Buddy’s voice was distant and hoarse.

Charles saw that Buddy had somehow obtained a scalpel. Before he could move, Buddy brought his right hand up and slashed the scalpel across his throat. Bright blood sprayed outward splattering on Natara’s distended abdomen.

His paralysis broken, Charles rushed forward and grabbed the collapsing man. He dragged him across to the opposite bed while shouting for his nurse.

In the background, he heard the doors to the treatment area slam open while he applied pressure to Buddy’s throat. The old man wasn’t going to last long, the scalpel had bitten deeply. Blood welled around Charles’ fingers and flowed down to form a Rorschach blot on the sheets.

Judy’s gasp informed him of her arrival. 

At that moment, Natara began to scream in pain.

Charles turned to shout instructions and froze. Black smoke poured from the pregnant woman’s vagina. It spread to fill the alcove where she lay. The smoke rolled and churned like a living thing and then drew downward to the floor, shaping itself into a tiny human form.  Part of the cloud still covered Natara and a tendril extended to the smokey infant shape on the floor. As he watched in horror, the child shape stood. The smoke seemed to solidify, now forming a toddler that looked as if it was made of burning coals, entirely black with red glowing lines and sparks shifting across its shape.

The shape expanded, growing in stature, first to the size of a young child and then to a teen. Natara’s screams reached a crescendo and abruptly cut off. The black shape grew to adult size and the remaining cloud pulled away from Natara and joined with the adult shape.

Where a beautiful pregnant woman had once lain, a desiccated shape, looking like an ancient mummy lay. 

The black creature stretched out its arms, becoming accustomed to its new size and turned its head toward Judy. Eyes like burning embers ignited. A deep, echoing voice filled the room as it spoke from a mouth filled with flame.

The words were no language that either human had ever heard but within their heads, they somehow understood.

“Bow down and worship me. A new age has come to the Earth.”

Judy screamed and turned to run.

The creature stretched out its hand and a gout of black smoke poured out. The smoke enveloped the fleeing woman. After a second, the smoke returned to the creature leaving behind another shriveled mummy that collapsed to the floor, shattering into dust.

“Bow down,” the creature intoned in Charles’ mind again.

Raising his bloody hands in defeat, Charles dropped to his knees before the creature. He felt it inside his mind, dark tendrils probing every secret, every bit of his personality until everything that had been Charles was now part of the creature.

It laughed a horrible, soul-crushing laugh.

“A new age has come, mortal. You shall be my High Priest. Rise.”

Charles stood, his eyes glazed, and pupils white. He turned and walked toward the exit, eager to serve his Dark Lord.