The Changeling, Prequel
Once upon a time far far away in a land not so very different from our own a girl child was born to a sweet and gentle couple. They welcomed her with love and good will. She was a beautiful and docile child with a full head of hair and good temper. Unfortunately she had to stay at the hospital for a period and her parents were forced to be away from her. This was a time of great suffering through out the land.
During this separation she came to be noticed by the goblin king. His wife had recently hatched a girl goblin child. Everybody knows goblin children are hatched from pumpkins. He was growing tired from being up all night, growing mold from the constant damp of being spat up on and quite deaf from her ear splitting howls. He gazed covetously upon this angelic human child. Until finally he could stand it no more. His minions were sent creeping and crawling one dark night to switch the babies. The goblin child was barely able to be kept quiet long enough for the midnight exchange, as soon as they set her down almost before they escaped out the window bearing their little sweet heart, she let out a wail.
The nurses came running in a panic so unused were they to any trouble with this particular child. Now the goblin king had cast a glamor over his little hellion so she could pass as human, the nurses were unable to tell any difference. They worried and fretted over how to explain the sudden change to the unsuspecting parents.
“Surely she will have stopped crying by the time they arrive” the nurses all agreed. For that day was the day her parents were coming to take her home.
Shrieks echoed through out the halls as the parents arrived to bring the little darling home.
“Oh I do pity the parents of that baby” they said nodding wisely at each other. They had become a little smug.
Late that night with their ears aching and a touch of mildew beginning in their creases they attempted to prepare for bed. The darling infant would drift off to sleep in their loving arms only to jerk awake screaming. They oohed and awed over the little pumpkin. “She just needs time to
adjust to her new home,” one crooned. “She’s darling even when she cries” cooed the other.
A week later and still awake, with the mildew blossoming into a lush carpet of green, they found themselves discovering new tricks their little darling had in store. Huddling under the blankets they hid in bed arguing over who would be the next to brave the child.
” I went last and she nearly gummed my fingers off.” the formerly lovely wife declared. “It’s your turn to feed her.”
“No no dear” the husband managed with some aplomb “I do believe that you drifted off to sleep momentarily whence I took it upon my self to venture forth and feed the,” here he paused searching for the proper description, “sweet
infant.” He coughed nearly choking on the words and wondering quietly to where one could return babies.
It was a weak argument as they both knew that sleep was not to be had. The formerly gallant husband returned dripping and quite haggard. Having grown tired of watering her mold gardens she had decided to wet down the rest of the house as well as her father and thus introduced projectile vomit. This was much more efficient allowing her to cover many things at once with her fragrant spray.
“But she smiled at me so sweetly when she had finished.” He added to the telling of his story with bemused wonder.
As she grew she developed skills that should have marked her as a goblin child if her disguise had not concealed so well, and lack of sleep not
blinded her parents eyes. She liked to eat the most inappropriate things and her strength
and intelligence far out distanced normal children of the human verity. She began crawling almost immediately. Her version of crawling at least. She could skid across a room on her face pushing with her hind feet. Of course had she been human they would have simply been legs.
They grew proud of this little changeling. Exclaiming in joy as she growled and snorted before honing in on an object to clamp down on it with gums of steal. Prideful of the way she scaled them as though they were mountains gnawing any flesh she could reach on the way. They learned to burp her at arms length preferably over the bath tub and appreciate a little mold. Sleep returned with judicious use of ear plugs. She wore her stuffed animals thread bare with her chewing and her parents took joy in her enthusiasm.
“Oh look at the little sweetling, she has such spirit!” The proud mother would cry.
“Yes, and such good aim.” The gloating father would respond gripping his throbbing nose. And so she growled and clawed her way into their harts. They pitied all those poor parents with sweet well behaved babies.