I used to be a nurse and I think I helped deliver something evil.

My career as a neonatal nurse spanned years. It's something I've been incredibly proud to have achieved and the rewards were endless. To know that I helped bring a life into the world filled me with profound joy or it used to anyway. Don't get me wrong it wasn't an easy job and there were things that happened that would break my heart but the positives far outweighed the negatives and I really enjoyed it, truly. Until very recently, I wanted to do nothing else.

I witnessed something on one of my night shifts that I haven't been able to forget, something that has been haunting me to no end since. I came here to share my story because I can't keep it to myself any longer.

It was a typical Friday night when it happened, nothing out of the ordinary at all. I'm a stickler for routine so everything has to be manageable, normal. I don't like surprises either. So I'm your average, boring person basically. I rarely come out of my comfort zone for anything, favouring to be put on cases that I can understand, that I can easily decipher. You're probably asking yourself what can possibly be so strange and out of the ordinary about what I do anyway? Right? Well, I thought the same for a long time.

If truth be told, it was one of those shifts that just dragged, felt like it would go on forever. I found myself daydreaming at the nurses station whilst going over patient notes of the day. My colleague Maria ran over to me - we were the two nurses on night shift that night.

"Nadia, we've got an incoming, just got off the phone to John. Looks to be a bad one, doc wants her straight in the delivery room."

John was one of our resident paramedics - he and I had a thing going for a while but it fizzled out when I caught him shagging the receptionist in the store cupboard. I gave him a piece of my mind whilst he scrambled to put his trousers back on, his flaccid dick hanging limply in between his legs. I remember how good that felt. So yeah, we weren't on the best of terms.

"How bad is it?" I asked her.

"Pretty bad, from what he said, sounds like she's haemorrhaging. So they wants us to prep for surgery now." She rushed off then and I followed in tow.

The woman was brought in shortly after. It was strange though, no one knew anything about her. John said she was found in the middle of the road by a concerned samaritan, looking all bloody and ragged. Apparently she was shouting about something crawling inside of her and harming her baby, taking over her baby. She was incoherent otherwise - John was unable to get any additional details that could help us identify her. When she got to the hospital, she seemed to have worsened in her mental state. She wailed like a lost dog. We knew that she would have to be assessed by our psyche department but she was literally about to burst so we had to act quickly if this baby was to survive.

Let's call her Jane Doe for now, after all, that is what she was. We had to sedate her in the end, she just wouldn't stop screaming. She thrashed like a lamb that was moments from slaughter. Jane Doe kept saying how she could feel it writhing inside of her, tearing at her organs. She was truly manic.

"You don't understand, you have to kill me. What's inside me cannot come out." She kept repeating over and over.

The sedation worked for a short while but it just wouldn't contain her, it was as if she was immune to any and all drugs we gave her. She was bleeding so much, it was unnatural - it flowed out of her in waves. I couldn't believe she was still alive. The blood was everywhere, all over the floors, all over the surgical table. I was covered in it. She screamed then, so profoundly - like a perishing coyote. It pierced the walls of the ward, of the whole hospital it seemed. Jane Doe's skin had become so pale, insipid almost. She resembled a freshly buried corpse. Black smoke started to seep out of her, it filled the room. It was overwhelming. Everyone started screaming, shouting and running around. It was so chaotic - I didn't know what to do. I cowered behind a cupboard but I just couldn't see anything. I could hear though and amidst the clatter and mayhem, I could hear a voice.

"Hi Momma."

It was deep, guttural and unlike anything I've ever heard before. It pierced my heart, the coldness of it. Another piercing scream followed.

The smoke cleared then, it just dissipated, like it had never existed. The woman lay splayed on the table, her insides literally scrambled. The expression on her face still haunts me to this day. Her mouth was open, askew and her tongue hung limply upon her dry lips. Her face looked so pained, as if all the life had been drained from her; her skin was so taught. Jane Doe was dead and the baby? We never found it.

None of us were the same afterwards and no one believed us. John killed himself not long after and Maria, I never heard from her again.

I quit my job but I struggle with nightmares, horrible images plague my dreams daily. I keep seeing Jane Doe's face everywhere I go. Do you want to know something else? Recently, I found out that I was pregnant and I haven’t had sex in over a year.