Edge of Madness, Beauty of Death (preg, cons, snuff, lac, MF + g-2yo + g-unborn) 

Screams filled the air of the small African town of Nyarubuye. In less 
than two weeks, Rwanda had exploded with tribal hatred, as politicians 
seeking power fanned old hatreds for their own purposes. Now, in the 
marketplace, there was screaming and shooting as Hutus targeted 
Tutsis, with no regard for the friendships that had developed after 
years of relative peace. 

Checkpoints dotted the dirt roads into town, manned by teenaged Hutus 
with drugs in their blood and murder in their eyes. Kagame had seen a 
lot of wars in his forty years, but something in their look told him 
that there was more than just the usual tribal politics. Taking the 
back roads from the capitol, he had been able to get to within 10 
miles of Nyarubuye before running out of bribe money, closer than he 
expected. The boys didn't care about the money because they wanted 
blood. 

His money would not help this close to town anyway. The locals knew 
that Kagame, a Hutu town council member, had taken a Tutsi wife. He 
did not know if he would be safe returning home, but knew he had to 
try to get Uwizera out of town soon. Their second baby was due in less 
than a month, and he had left Kigali to take Uwizera and their 
2-year-old daughter, Amahoro, to somewhere, anywhere safe. But the 
cries from the center of town told him that time was running out. 

The sound of the not so distant melee was the only sound to be heard 
as Kagame stumbled out of the brush into the small garden behind his 
house. The back door was locked from the inside, there was no key 
because nobody ever locked their doors. As Kagame turned to the sound 
of a rifle shot in the nearby woods, the door flew open, and a strong 
but delicate hand pulled him in. Uwizera quickly shut and bolted the 
door behind her husband. 

She was tall, even for a Tutsi. At nearly two meters, her slender 
curves had drawn Kagame's eye, even when his Hutu friends looked at 
her with disdain. Now, eight months into her second pregnancy, her 
curves had truly blossomed, with a firm, round belly riding high below 
breasts that had found their true shape. Two years of nursing Amahoro 
had turned her breasts from a young woman's small and perky boobs into 
a full-grown woman's source of pleasure and baby's nourishment. 

After bolting the door, Uwizera darted to the kitchen of the small 
house. Kagame followed, looking at the shades drawn across the closed 
windows. The heat was stifling, and he wondered why Amahoro was not 
crying. When he reached the kitchen, he saw why. For the first time, 
he noticed that Uwizera's plain white dress was splattered with bright 
red blood, making strange, curved streaks around her swollen abdomen. 
As Kagame watched, she sat in a rocking chair made of local bamboo 
(splattered and streaked with red), and carefully pulled a breast out 
of the nursing slit. Then, she reached into the cradle, the cradle 
they had bought for the new baby, and picked up their daughter. 
Placing the girl to her breast, Uwizera began singing a lullaby as she 
rocked her gently to sleep. 

The girl was already asleep, Kagame suddenly realized, and she would 
not wake up. Slowly, he took in the sight of his wife's long, slender 
arms holding their chubby daughter, and blood still oozing from a spot 
on her back, between her ribs. Uwizera continued looking down at the 
dead girl, and spoke in a flat, emotionless voice. "They are coming 
for us. They would have hurt her. They would have taken her from me 
and killed her so slowly..." Her voice trailed off as Kagame knelt 
beside the pregnant mother and her dead child. 

"Who is coming?" Kagame asked. Uwizera looked up with a piercing 
glare. "Your people," she said, "They will kill you for being with me, 
then they will kill me as they laugh. They will kill our baby as they 
laugh..." she trailed off again. Tears came down her cheeks as her 
gaze moved to the chopping block. There was the knife, the bloody 
knife she had used to save her daughter from the Hutu mob. 

Kagame followed her gaze. "There is no escape for us," Uwizera said. 

They looked at the knife for a long moment, as the gunfire and screams 
continued in the distance. It was a heavy survival knife, the one 
Uwizera kept sharp to gut and clean the wild game that was the source 
of much of the family's meat. Then, their eyes met again. "You know 
what you must do," she told her husband. He remembered back to the 
time they had been hunting together, and had come across a colobus 
monkey that had somehow fallen out of its perch. Upon skinning it, 
they had found her pregnant, and there had been something especially 
satisfying about opening up her still-warm stomach to see the baby 
inside. Afterwards, they had made love like never before, and little 
Amahoro was the product of that passion. 

Kagame looked down again at his daughter, and the blood streaking the 
white covered curves of Uwizera's belly, and then looked in her eyes 
again. The blank stare was gone, replaced by the passion he'd seen on 
that day almost three years ago. He leaned over to kiss her, and they 
enjoyed a final moment together of pure love. As he pulled away, 
Uwizera placed Amahoro's warm body in his arms. 

He stood, took the knife from the counter, and then laid his daughter 
on the floor. With a single stroke, he opened the bottom of her 
ribcage from her left to her right, angling the knife upward to cut 
through the diaphragm. Gently, he reached his left hand inside her 
body, then carefully entered with the knife in his right. As Uwizera 
watched, he pulled the girl's severed heart from her chest, and 
offered it to his wife. She took it in her hand, and toyed with the 
ragged hole made by her knife. Still holding her daughter's heart, she 
rose heavily from the chair, and lay down beside the little girl on 
the hard floor. 

Kagame took the bloody material of the hem of her dress in his hand, 
and cut upwards, over her belly, between her breasts, and up to her 
neck. He cut down her right sleeve, then reached across to open the 
left, and his pregnant wife now lay before him naked on a bloody white 
sheet. He cut off her right sleeve, and wrapped it around her head. 
"You will scream," he said, the first words he had said since coming 
home to death. "I know," she said. He placed the gag in her mouth, and 
tied it firmly. 

Taking the knife in his right hand, Kagame positioned himself between 
his wife's legs. He bent over her expanding belly, and gently took her 
coal black nipple between his lips. He sucked the breast, the one his 
daughter died clutching, until hot, sweet milk streamed out. As 
Uwizera moaned softly in pleasure, Kagame felt the baby kicking 
happily below him. Reaching down around her belly with his left hand, 
he stroked the coarse hairs of her vulva, then moved to the folds that 
had birthed Amahoro. 

Gently moving his fingers up and down her labia, Kagame could feel his 
wife's long, muscular body swaying beneath him. As she neared her 
climas, Kagame lay his full weight on the baby, feeling Uwizera's 
swollen navel pushing into his ribs. He moved his fingers faster, 
focusing on her clitoris, as her breathing came faster and faster. He 
felt her stomach contract around the baby as her uterus prepared for 
orgasm. 

Uwizera took a deep breath as the sensations overcame her, and Kagame 
took one long, hard suck of her breast milk. Then, he placed the tip 
of the knife at the point of her sternum, and pushed it in with a 
single, steady thrust. Uwizera let out her breath with a muffled cry, 
still loud through the gag, but much of the air in her lungs blew out 
of the hole in her stomach, where Kagame had angled the knife up into 
her thorax. His wife's orgasm over, he sat up between her legs and 
pulled the knife back out, cutting downward slightly to open the skin 
and muscle slightly. Her legs were pinwheeling aimlessly as her body 
reacted to the pain, so he sat on her left leg to steady her body. 
Blood oozed slowly out of the wound, and out of Uwizera's right hand 
as she squeezed her daughter's heart. 

Kagame pushed the fingers of his left hand into the hole his his 
wife's midsection, and went to work on the outer layers of skin and 
muscle. Pulling the layers away, he pointed the blade upward and cut 
through them like the skin of a chicken, exposing a large loop of 
blue-pink intestine in yellow fat. He bent over and kissed her 
insides, then bent over again to kiss her breast, which was still 
dripping milk. He licked the milk, then licked her bleeding wound, 
drawing another sharp yelp from behind her gag. Kagame noticed that 
his wife was clutching their daughter's body tightly with her left 
hand, squeezing the girl's milk-filled stomach out of the gash below 
her ribs. He smiled at the beautiful sight, then turned back to his 
wife's own belly. 

Still lifting the skin and muscle away, he pushed the knife around the 
curve of her uterus, exposing the bright red organ to the hot, moist 
air. When he reached her protruding navel, he cut around it, then 
followed the dark, dark line of her linea negra all the way to the 
wild hairs of her pussy. The swollen organ pushed its way out of the 
mother's belly, pushing the stretched skin, fat, and muscle out of the 
way. There was no doubt now that the baby was kicking, as the surface 
of the uterus was rippling with pokes from arms, legs, and head. 
Setting the knife between her breasts, Kagame moved to Uwizera's side, 
and gently lifted her head to let her see. 

As she watched, pain and wonder mixed on her sweating face, Uwizera 
saw her own uterus contract around the baby, the powerful muscle 
working to expel the baby from its dying mother. When he laid her head 
gently back to the ground, Uwizera's legs stilled, and she pointed to 
her gag with her bloody hand. Kagame removed the cloth, and Uwizera 
took a deep breath. A sucking sound came from the hole in her 
diaphragm. "Let, me see, our baby," she wheezed. He looked around for 
something to prop her head on, and saw the little girl. Smiling as his 
resourcefulness, he lifted Uwizera's head again, moved her arm, and 
dragged his daughter's opened body under his wife's head. He laid the 
head back down, and Uwizera could see her insides, while lying on a 
bed of her first baby's insides. 

Kagame turned back to her abdomen. He cut across the top of the flaps 
of skin, following her ribcage, and across the bottom, following her 
pelvis. Now, her skin and muscle were inside out on the ground, just 
like her white dress, now soaking in her blood along with her 
daughter's. Her uterus stood alone in a pile of her intestines, which 
were now moving out her now-open sides. He lifted the uterus out of 
the pile, and with his knife, poked one of the pink-white ovaries near 
the top on the back. A shiver went through Uwizera's body as her 
system responded to the new attack, but endorphins and shock were 
preventing any further reaction. 

He pushed the knife through the ovary, and the point touched her 
uterus. But the muscle was very tough, and he couldn't hold the near 
full term baby and cut at that angle. So he laid the organ back down, 
and began sawing through the top. The tough fibers gave way, though he 
had to stop for a moment as the baby kicked his knife out of his hand. 
His wife's breathing was growing more ragged as her lungs lost 
capacity and her body lost blood, so as soon as he cut through the 
uterine wall, he pushed the tip of the knife into the hole. The bag of 
waters burst, spraying a thin stream of amniotic fluid straight across 
his wife's chest and into her face. She smiled, as much as she was 
able, tasting her own fluid as it dripped down her lips. 

To finish the cut, Kagame pushed two fingers into the small hole, and 
as before, turned the knife blade up to avoid cutting the baby. 
Reacting to the injury, her uterus contracted spasmodically, gushing 
fluid over her exposed stomach and making the hole in her diaphragm 
sputter. She began coughing weakly, and Kagame knew he didn't have 
much time. He sawed through a quarter of the way around the uterus, 
then a powerful contraction pushed his knife out of his hand as the 
baby's bottom came pouring out of the wound. Kagame pulled the baby 
out bottom first, and saw another smile on his wife's now ashen face. 
It was a little baby girl. 

Knowing her time was nearly over, Kagame turned the new baby around, 
and placed her on her mother's breast. Despite the difficult birth, 
the baby latched on lovingly, and milk began flowing for the last 
time. Uwizera looked from the baby to Kagame with love, as the last 
light began to fade from her eyes. The baby's umbilical cord, still 
attached to the placenta inside the uterus, was pulsing with the 
baby's rapid heartbeat. 

Kagame put the knife in Uwizera's hand, and together, they guided it 
into the new baby's heart. She twitched for a few seconds, as the cord 
connecting her with her mother slowed, and was still. 

As Uwizera looked at her new life, her new death, Kagame tore open the 
cut in her diaphragm with his hands. He grasped her slowly beating 
heart, and with a yell of orgasmic delight and unspeakable despair, he 
tore it loose and pulled it out. The fire died in Uwizera's eyes, and 
Kagame lay across his dead family, clutching the heart of the only 
woman he'd ever loved. 

When the Huutu mob came to his house that afternoon, he showed them 
the bodies, and the heart. It was a cold-eyed Kagame who left his home 
that night, machete in hand, one of a million Hutus and Tutsis driven 
to the edge of madness by the beauty of death.

d udet