E duorum, Unum

E duorum, Unum


I never should have let myself get talked into going to that frat party, Marge thought, although the guy I ended up with had been a real hunk.  Lots of muscle, but weird, red eyes; he must have been seriously toasted.  Then again, who am I to talk?  I was so wasted, I don't remember most of the evening.

Marge Anderson had woken up in a strange bed.  She'd been very sore, and had had a number of unexplained scratches on her back.  She had put it down to wild, drunken sex and forgotten all about it.  That is, until she'd missed her period and subsequently 'flunked' a home pregnancy test.  She had given some thought to the various ramifications, but had not become concerned, until she had started spotting quite heavily.  She had gone straight to her GYN to find out what was happening.

Waiting to make a follow-up appointment, the doctor's announcement still rang in her ears.  She wasn't just pregnant - she was carrying twins!  She'd barely gotten used to the whole idea of being pregnant; now she was going to have two little ones to deal with and, if she'd understood the doctor correctly, one of them might be a little... different.

As he had studied the ultrasound picture, Doctor Emsman had hmm'd several times before finally pointing out what he'd called a 'vestigial tail'.

"They're quite common, actually, but they're also usually gone by this point in the fetus' development.  Don't worry, though," he'd soothed, "we'll keep an eye on it.  Everything will be fine."

Two days later, Marge had been seized with severe abdominal cramps and she had made an appointment for that afternoon.  When the ultrasound picture had stablized and Marge saw Doctor Emsman's face became carefully neutral, her heart began to pound.

"What's wrong with the babies, Doctor?" she'd cried.

He had studied the monitor a few endless moments more before replying, "I'm sorry, Marge, but I think we have a 'vanishing twin' situation.  It looks like one of the fetuses is being reabsorbed by the other twin."

He had just started the most nontechnical explanation he knew, when Marge suddenly screamed and convulsed on the examination table.  Doctor Emsman whirled to check the monitor...and went pale.

"No!" he gasped in horror.  "No!  It isn't possible!"

On the monitor, sharp, perfectly formed little teeth took another bite from the smaller twin and began to chew.


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