May it Be

πŸ“… Published on April 2, 2023

β€œMay it Be”

Written by Brian Whitfield
Edited by N.M. Brown
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by

Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).

🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available


Rating: 6.00/10. From 1 vote.
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“Reverend and Mrs. Decan, the doctor will see you now.”, the receptionist announced.

“Thank you, Melissa. Tell your mother that green bean casserole was delicious.”

“I will, Reverend.” The receptionist replied, glancing up while shuffling through the mess of paperwork that blanketed her small desk.

“Will you be joining us at bible camp next week?” the Reverend inquired.

“I can’t wait.” The receptionist didn’t bother lifting her head to reply, remaining busy with her organizing.

The Reverend stood still and silent for a moment, trying to decipher the reply. Was she serious or sarcastic? He took in a big breath preparing to extend the conversation.

“Henry!” his wife, MaryAnn, clapped, interrupting his inhale, the agitation was apparent in her face and sharp tone, “The doctor is waiting. Help me up.”

“Sorry dear, I was just…”

“I know what you were ‘just .’We need to go.” MaryAnn proclaimed.

Henry turned around to his wife’s awaiting extended arm. Gripping her forearm, he gently pulled her up toward him. MaryAnn positioned her free hand on her hip, arching her back, thrusting her huge pregnant belly toward Henry to help support their struggling efforts to lift herself off the lobby chair.

It took much longer than either of them would have liked to return to the examining room.

The examination room was too chilly to be comfortable. Underneath her long sleeves, MaryAnn felt the chill bumps overtaking her arms. It didn’t seem to bother Henry.

Before MaryAnn could get situated, the doctor rapped twice on the open door, “How’s my favorite patient and preacher doing today? Mind if I come in?” The doctor said in jest as he walked straight through the examination room door, shutting the door behind him.

Dr. McCormick had been the family doctor since they moved to the area three years ago.

“The twins are moving a lot these days,” MaryAnn said, placing her hands on both sides of her massive, protruding belly. Her left hand pulsed as a result of the movements coming from within.

Dr. McCormick flipped through the first three pages of a blue file folder he had carried in. “Your last visit, we spoke a little about your blood pressure spiking. Other than that, yourΒ  blood work and vitals are truly remarkable.”

Henry cleared his throat, “Doc, what is with all the commotion in there?” with a subtle nod toward MaryAnn. “It’s more painful for her than she’ll admit. I see the pain ruminating all over her. She’s not sleeping. She hasn’t found any position that can give her any relief. She’s only eating so as not to starve the babies.”

“MaryAnn, you better tell me the preacher here is exaggerating.” Dr. McCormick said teasingly but sternly.

“No, Dr. McCormick, he’s not exaggerating. My son never moved anything like these two. IΒ  can’t take much more of this.” MaryAnn’s eyes filled with tears; a single blink sent her tears to both cheeks.

Henry reached for MaryAnn’s hand, giving it a tender squeeze. MaryAnn pulled her hand away, glaring at Henry, her brows furrowed and mouth slightly agape with heavy breathing. Her facial expression changed from sadly docile to near vicious.

Dr. McCormick could feel the tension and attempted to lighten the air. “At this stage of your pregnancy, with the complications you are experiencing, how you feel is not to be unexpected. What you are going through is nothing less than a miracle, MaryAnn. It truly is.”

“It certainly doesn’t feel that way. It feels more like a curse,” MaryAnn snapped back.

“I’ll get the nurse in here to run some lab work. I am going to put you on complete bed rest. I mean it, MaryAnn, nothing but rest. Do you hear me, preacher? I know that puts a lot on you and little Caleb, but it’s for the best, for everyone.”

“Absolutely, Doc. That is all I pray for, the best for everyone.” Henry said, with a confirming nod.

MaryAnn wiped her tears away, only to have new tears take their place. She could not stop crying.

“MaryAnn, listen to me,” the doctor leaned over, looking MaryAnn directly in her bloodshot, tear-swollen eyes, “you have so many people praying for you. We will make it through this.”

MaryAnn felt the twins jerking about, causing her to grimace in pain. Neither the doctor norΒ  Henry seemed to notice. They did notice the nurse entering the examination room.

“Henry, you take good care of the missus. MaryAnn, you let the preacher cater to your everyΒ  need, Doctor’s orders.” Dr. McCormick instructed, winking at MaryAnn. MaryAnn forced aΒ  grin.

“Mrs. Decan, I need to draw a little blood. Is that ok?” the nurse was holding a capped syringe and several test tubes, all bound in a blue rubber band.


It was the early evening of the third day since the lab work. Henry felt his thigh vibrating, pulling his phone from his front pants pocket. He saw the caller ID was labeled “Doc M.”

“Good afternoon or, no, evening, Doctor. What’s the good news?” Henry said with true sincerity. Henry needed to hear some good news. The last three days with MaryAnn attempting to rest, unsuccessfully, had already become a real burden for him.

“Sorry, not a doctor yet.” A female voice replied.


It was Melissa, Dr. McCormick’s youngest daughter and receptionist. “My dad said that he needs to see you immediately. I’m on my way to your place now. I’ll be there in 15 minutes to watch after Caleb and MaryAnn while you’re gone. He wants to meet you at the church.”

“At the church? Why?”

“I don’t ask questions, Reverend. I just do what I’m told.” Henry heard a ‘beep.’ He removed the phone from his ear to view the screen. The call had ended.

Henry hadn’t been to the church in a week. He was curious and anxious but somehow relieved that the doctor requested the meeting at the church. Henry had some chores he needed to do around the sanctuary.

Henry’s stare was aimed at the floor. His vision was occupied by a daydream of what work he needed to do while at the church.

The sound of a closing car door brought Henry out of his daze. He began to scuttle around, gathering his keys and jacket. He patted both front pockets of his slacks out of habit, knowing his cell phone and wallet were both secure inside. Henry opened the door to greet their visitor.

The autumn air was cool and crisp.

“Thank you for coming, Melissa. Caleb is over at a friend’s house. MaryAnn was sleeping last time I checked, about 20 minutes ago. If you need anything…”

Melissa interrupted, “I’ll call.”

Melissa sidestepped past Henry, forcing him to twist out of her way and onto the front porch.

“Oh, yeah, Melissa…” the door shut in Henry’s face, and he heard the bolt lock latch. “Never mind,” Henry whispered and made his way to his old but reliable car.


The church was close to two miles away.

Henry pulled into the empty parking lot adjacent to the church building.

Dr. McCormick was leaning against the front door of the church.

“Where’s his car?” Henry asked himself as he smiled and waved at the doctor. The doctor raised his hand to return the gesture.

The sun was setting.


“Melissa!” MaryAnn screamed with what little energy she could muster. “Where is Henry? I need Henry! Something is wrong with the babies! Melissa!”

Melissa nearly sprained her neck, turning quickly toward MaryAnn’s voice, startled and concerned.

“I’m here, Mrs. Decan, I’m here.” Melissa instinctively yelled back as she sprung to her feet and bounded around the couch, running toward MaryAnn’s bedroom.

MaryAnn’s room was dark, except a sliver of light beaming through the small gap in the doorway. As soon as MaryAnn saw a shadow break the solid light shining into the room, she began to scream again. “The twins, there’s something wrong!”

Melissa threw the door open, and the influx of light illuminated MaryAnn. Her pregnant belly was rolling, pulsing and bulging, stretching her skin to the furthest boundaries of its elasticity.

MaryAnn’s skin was slowly stretching thinner and thinner. She gripped and squeezed the bed sheets with both hands by her sides, forcing her head down, deep into her pillow, releasing blood curdling screams, bellowing in agony.


Henry didn’t recognize the number on his caller ID.

“Hell…” Henry cut off his greeting, hearing the quickened, panting breathing, drowned out by a scream so loud that it caught Dr. McCormick’s attention from five feet away.

“Reverend!” MaryAnn’s terror covered Melissa’s voice-filled cries, “The babies,”

“I’m on my way!”

Dr. McCormick tossed Henry a syringe. The tube was nearly full of a thick grey liquid. Henry snatched the tube out of the air and ran for the door.


Less than five minutes later, Henry threw open the front door of his house, flicking the syringe,Β  squirting a small amount of liquid out of the needle’s tip as he entered the house.

Henry’s heart was racing, as were his legs, rushing him toward the bedroom.

His forward momentum abruptly halted in the doorway, stopped by shock and fear. MaryAnn’s body was contorted, twisting and turning about in unnatural ways, her pregnant belly violently thrashing her from side to side.

Henry’s panic jolted him toward his wife; he plunged the loaded syringe deeply into her neck with a single motion.

She couldn’t move.

She couldn’t scream.

She couldn’t feel anything.

Henry saw the imprisoned look of pure terror in MaryAnn’s widened eyes as she succumbed to the paralyzing effects of the needle’s liquid. He slowly pulled the needle out of her neck, guiding her limp head down onto the sweat-stained pillow. Her belly calmed.

Melissa walked into the room. A thin, long black cloth was draped over her arm.

Henry lifted the cloth off Melissa’s arm, spreading it over MaryAnn’s body, covering her entirely.

MaryAnn stared into the darkness behind the covering. There was pressure under her back. She was being carried.

A car door opened; the smell was familiar. The full moon’s light caressed her face through the veil as she fell out of consciousness.


A sharp pain in her arm, followed by a tingling in her hands and feet, brought MaryAnn back to awareness.

Her head was bound, as were her arms and legs, bound to what she wasn’t concerned about.

Forced to rely on her peripheral vision, she could make out six silhouettes, three on each side of her through the thin veil. Behind them was the flickering of what had to be dozens of lit candles.

The only other light source came from the full moon’s luminescence, dimly filling in what shadows the candlelight left void.

There were others. She knew she was surrounded.

MaryAnn convulsed, testing the strength of her bindings. She strained at the ferocious pain coming from within her bulging belly.

Without warning, the veil was ripped away, exposing her naked body. The six silhouettes were now six bodies cloaked in hooded regalia.

MaryAnn couldn’t see over her mounded belly. What she did see turned her blood cold with terror.

Two clawed hands were pushing up and out from her insides.

MaryAnn could feel a burning in her abdomen. Her internal organs were being crushed and torn, causing her insufferable pain. The gag in her mouth muffled her torrent of screams as her lower ribs shattered. Her lungs collapsed, and she struggled to breathe. Her throat was obstructed by bile and blood. Gasping, she hungered for air.

Her belly was being pushed out even further.

The pushing turned to thrash.

The thrashing became tearing.

The tearing erupted in an explosion of blood and entrails. Flailing in the cavity that was once shared in the utero home. The exposed beast continued viciously devouring the organs of its host and the soft, bloody flesh of its human twin.

The beast was born.

Removing the hood of his ceremonial cloak, Henry bowed his head, placing his hands on the head of MaryAnn’s disastrously disfigured corpse. The beast continued feeding, wallowing in itsΒ  fleshy feast as Henry proclaimed, “Blessed be the mother of our savior.”

The room solemnly echoed in unison, “Blessed be.”

Behind a sinister grin, Henry’s face began to shift into its Werewolf form as he spoke theΒ  ceremony’s conclusion, “So Mote It Be.”

Rating: 6.00/10. From 1 vote.
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🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available

Written by Brian Whitfield
Edited by N.M. Brown
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by

πŸ”” More stories from author: Brian Whitfield

Publisher's Notes: N/A

Author's Notes: N/A

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Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).

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11 months ago

bro that plot twist was good

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