5.

Twelve weeks in and the sparks return. Greta gets up out of bed. It is six in the morning. She had got home approximately nine the evening before and sat for at least thirty minutes in darkness on a sofa before thinking of doing anything else. She hasn't allowed herself to get close to anyone since the night of the attack and this includes Mike at the bar and the young lady named Florence who came specially to see her. She is working more hours than she had been before though with her studies on an indefinite pause, she has more time to herself.

Indeed, as of this moment, Greta has yet to take Florence up on her offer, she hasn't seen Florence in the six weeks since she came to the bar. The attack and all that has come with it has not left her with a fear of being on her own and it has not left her with a fear of the darkness. If anything, she finds sitting alone in darkness soothing. There is something safe about it, as it nothing can find her when she is in a moment like this, only this time something had found on that previous evening and with dawn soon to arrive, Greta has time to consider what occurred the evening before.

There was something here with her, something not all so far ahead of her, something in the darkness within her home, within the room where she indeed sits quietly on a sofa. Despite the darkness and a lack of sound, she could see it, she could hear it. So attuned to it, it is almost extraordinary. The shadow on the night of the attack, this cannot be the same thing, here in her home. It was, she knows now that it was, it is, and she could feel it, she could sense it while it was there.

It had not been circling her, it had not been moving in a threatening manner, if anything it was calming, and this is not just the effect that sitting in darkness like this usually has on her. Still, she questions it, maybe it is not completely what she believes it to be,

'Who's there? What do you want?'

It moves, changing direction, still she is calm. Greta has something to protect now, so does Darkness and both happen to be the same thing. The shadow does not want to hurt her; it wants to ensure the well-being of what is inside of her. In this moment, not necessarily one of confrontation, her phone is off. When Greta came in to sit down, she did not want to be disturbed by hospital staff, doctors or the likes, police or even by Michael or Florence despite the fact that it is very unlikely that any of these people will call her at this time of the evening. Turning it on, it takes too long to properly to be of any use in illuminating anything that may be here with her.

It moves towards her and pauses inches away from her face. Darkness has taken shape and is right in front of her. She can see it, indistinctive yet distinctive at the same time. Her heartbeat quickens, her breath shortens and becomes more frequent and she is stuck like this for a few seconds, a length of time that feels so much longer than what it actually is. An odd calmness is still with her despite this moment calling for anything but calmness.

When she finally regains the use of her own body, she reaches a few feet to her right to turn on a table lamp. A millisecond before pushing through the switch, Greta is hit by a spark. A jolt of electricity rushes through her hand, right along the bones she feels it move on and into her body. The jolt, as brief as it was, also was strong, strong enough to knock her unconscious.

The lamp, whether the switch went through or not, has come on and the featureless mass of shadow has vanished. Greta Turner is alone at home and she is unconscious.

It is six in the morning and Greta sits on her sofa having only just regained consciousness. The lamp is still on though outside is not quite as dark in this moment as it had been at nine the evening before. Her phone is switched on and is lying on the floor next to her. She can see from her position that the battery is fairly low. Instinctively she reaches for the phone and as soon as she grabs it, she is hit by another jolt of electricity. This makes sure that the phone slips out of her grasp with it only having come up no more than a few inches of the ground before the slip ensure its fall back to the ground.

The jolt received via the phone is nowhere near as strong as the one from the lamp the night before. 'Shit' she says reaching for her jolted hand with her other hand. Oddly enough she is in no way sore from that first jolt or indeed the second. She can barely remember it, the first jolt but surely something so strong might have burned her or hurt her in some way other than knocking her out. She feels perfectly fine, there isn't even a headache or any other side effect of that shock, well none she is as of yet aware of.

Greta reaches for her phone again and is hit by another jolt, one at the same strength level as what she was hit by the last time she reached for her phone. She is sure that if she reaches for it a third time that she will again be hit by another jolt so for now she will just let it be. Some fault, short or something will surely sort itself out. Odd it is now, with still being able to see he phone screen; it shows now that its battery is fully charged.

Yeah, the outside world is brighter now than what it had been, definitely not as dark as it was at nine the evening before still there is some darkness. The lamp is still on but it is not strong enough to offer as much light as she would like there to be, so Greta gets up to go turn on the main lighting. As soon as her hand gets anywhere near that light switch there is yet another jolt.

'No, this can't be happening' she says out loud to herself.

The jolts, they are emanating from her or within her and not actually coming at her.

She heads right into the kitchen area and doesn't even get an opportunity to attempt to turn on the kitchen light when all the appliances begin rumbling as if they are reacting to her, as if she is her own source of electrical power and strong enough too to be causing all which is occurring. Stunned, Greta manages to back away and out of the kitchen area, coming close to the living room television which comes on as if her presence has powered it on.

This is all something she would not believe if she weren't experiencing it herself. Greta needs help; she cannot function like this especially with the possibility with which she may expect to deal with this on some level or other on a possible long-term basis. What the hell is going on? She has a land line phone. She will be able to use that, right?

Slowly she reaches for it. She picks up the receiver, so far so good. Still with the number Florence had given her, Greta dials and the phone rings out for about forty seconds or so before it is answered.

Florence, despite having only just woken, can hear the distress in Greta's voice. Greta states who she is, and Florence will soon be at the ready to aid her, the best she can. Taking down instructions on how to get to her caller, Florence ensures Greta that she will be over to her as soon as she can.

To properly aid Greta in current condition she must be sedated, and professionals are soon on hand to see to it. The sedation aided with subsiding an electrical charge once before, thankfully this time round the effects to those administering wasn't so severe as they had been on that prior occasion so administering a sedative is much easier than last time round and with that charge being abated tests can begin.

When Greta awakes in hospital, Florence is with her as are a team of doctors. Of course, Greta reacts with surprise and fear when she sees the doctors and it is Florence who provides the calming effect, such is something she has become a master at. If there are a team of doctors at her bedside, then something must seriously be wrong.

One doctor in particular looking somewhat overcome with concern moves to take a seat by the bed looking as if he is about to impart some life changing news.

'Missus Turner ...' he says.

'It's Miss ...' she wastes no time in making the correction.

'I do apologize ...'

It is explained that the human body generates electricity. Electricity is required for the nervous system to send signals throughout the body and to the brain, making it possible for general everyday activities such as moving, thinking and feeding. The thing is that there is way too much electricity within Greta, so much so at times it may go hundreds of times above the norm.

The source of all this extra electricity is the child Greta is carrying. Somehow the fetus is generating excessive amounts of electricity, hugely excessive amounts, amounts that should be nowhere near possible.

It appears that the fetus, as the doctor describes the child, something Greta does not appreciate, generates this electricity and is like a super charged battery that it needs to release the energy when it gets to a certain point. This is something completely unheard of; it should not be possible in any way. It is put to Greta that further testing is extremely necessary to the point where she is not being given the option to decline any test.