S H A T T E R E D   D A W N

Interactive story
Written by
Manny Van Delight

-- Part 02 --

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

BEEP-BEEP BEEP-BEEP - the alarm continues.

Warm light falls through the windows onto the couch, of an otherwise unlit room.

There lays LAYLA, early 30s. Seemingly asleep. Her skin glistens with dried sweat, that left white lines of residue. Her hair is ruffled, matted with grime. A woman in decline.

Layla opens her baggy eyes. Sigh. 

With effort, she lifts her arm - an electronic wristband glows to life. "TOXIN ALERT."

A flick and the alarm stops. Another flick and the device projects vital signs mid-air -- 
BODY TEMP 1: 42°C (107°F).
BODY TEMP 2: 36°C (97°F).

She lets out half a whistle.

LAYLA
New record for me. You're doing fine tho.

Layla tries to sit up. Fails, and rolls sideways off the couch instead. Finally standing --

She presses a palm gently on her BABY BUMP.

LAYLA
Hang tight. More data coming.

Layla waddles to the kitchen. Sways, fighting nausea. 

She tilts but finds support at the kitchen counter. Her eyes flick to the floor as she maps her path to the fridge.

The freezer is filled with ice packs. She places a couple on the torso. NO cold shock response. No flinch. NOTHING. It just feels right.

She relaxes.

Then - a slow trickle of blood from her nose.

Layla sways again, reaches for the kitchen counter --

SQUEAK - her now wet hands slip over the surface and past the edge. Her rips hit the counter - a sharp GROAN - she twists and falls back first to the ground.

Silence. A few drops of blood drip onto the floor. 

Layla's eyes slowly roll back into place. The pain kicks in again. She takes it, forces herself up to sit back against the kitchen counter.

One ice pack lies next to her. Back onto the torso.

Deep breathing.

She checks the baby.

LAYLA
You Okay?

(Baby kicks)
Noted.

A drop of blood falls onto the stomach.

LAYLA
Bleeding on exertion. Definitely new.