When The Quickening ends, you are wheeled to the “Delivery Wing.” The doors have no handles. The walls are lined with wet, red velvet.
You will hear two voices. Your own. And another, slightly behind yours, speaking in reverse. spooky pregnant school: the quickening
You will file into the basement auditorium. The lights are the color of a bruise. You will lie on a gurney. A cold, stethoscope-like device—too long, too flexible—will be inserted into your navel. When The Quickening ends, you are wheeled to
The last page of the handbook is blank, but if you hold it up to a candle, it reads: “Congratulations. You have given birth to a final grade. It has your eyes. It will never stop crying. And it already knows everything you will ever do wrong.” Want me to turn this into a short story, a TTRPG one-shot (“The Quickening Session”), or a series of fake detention slips from this school? Your own
It is written in the style of a (a "lost student handbook entry"). THE QUICKENING An excerpt from the St. Agatha’s Guide to Term 3 (Unabridged, 1974) Warning to the Newly Swollen: By the time you feel the first flutter, it is already too late to withdraw.