Over the course of many months Wilford hadn't seen a change in Rosalina. She still looked as magnificent as when he had found her.

But one day, while Wilford was off firing an assistant on set, Rosalina drove off. It was to be expected, she was about to give birth. What more could you expect from someone screaming in pain all the way to the hospital?

There, she gave birth to a healthy baby boy. His hair was a beautiful silver like hers, and had deep, chocolatey brown eyes like Wilford. His skin was a calming pale, the softest you have ever felt. A giggle escaped his lips as his umbilical cord was taken off. The doctors, after finishing with the baby, handed him back to Rosalina. Swaddled in a warm, calming, blue blanket, Rosalina held her baby close. She couldn't help but smile down at him.

He had made it.

She, however...

"I think I'll name you Damien. Do you like that name, my child?" Her voice was as calm and as quiet as she could manage, like silk to the sweet child in her arms. A tiny hand reached up to her to grab at whatever it could. A small sound of approval was uttered from the child's lips.

A giggle like honey was shared between the two. "Damien it is then."

All of a sudden, there was a loud slamming of doors. People screaming as gunshots were heard. Damien started to cry, loud. Rosalina tried to silence him, pure fear in her eyes. She shook as he came into the room, yellow shirt covered in red, dripping ooze, his pink mustache twitching wildly.

"How DARE you! Pregnant, and you don't even tell me!?"

"I-I thought you would've known by now.. I w-was scared to tell you, I-I wasn't sure how you would react.."

"SHUT THE HELL UP!"

Damien cried louder.

"P-Please.. not in front of your son.."

Wilford glared at the baby, grabbing it by its neck, setting it down on a weighing table. He walked back to Rosalina, his small, golden pistol in hand. He had only one thing to say, "That will never be my son." , before taking his aim.

...did not.