Her heart beats erratically, heavy beneath diaphanous skin, softened ribs. And as the half man, half Tomcat prepares to mount her, she shivers dread anticipation, not knowing whether she truly wants this or not; monstrous visions cloud her fragile, egg shell mind: thighs parted she pushes, pants, pushes again, and nine months later she lay exhausted, six soft, furry newborns nuzzling her breasts, suckling, mewing softly in response to Mother's gut-wrenching sobs, her mind broken, lapping milk from a dish on the kitchen floor.