The alpha billionaire, Damian Blackwood, was sterile. Desperate for an heir, he kept a hundred ‘canaries’ at his sprawling estate. He made a public declaration: whoever bore him a child would receive a billion-dollar prize. A year later, ten of the canaries gave birth in succession. But every single one of them had their limbs hacked off and were buried alive. The reason given was infidelity. A month after that, my own ten-month pregnancy came to term. But one look at my newborn child, and I started sobbing in terror. The children of the other women, the ones buried alive for their betrayal, were at least human. My baby… wasn't even human. It was five tiny calico kittens. 1 The private physician who delivered them fainted on the spot. Only my personal maid, Martha, was left, her eyes wide as she stammered, “Miss Monroe, what… what is this?” What was this? I wanted to know too! How could a human being give birth to cats? I pinched my thigh, hard, praying this was all just a nightmare. But the pain was sharp and real. This was not a dream. I was finished. The gruesome fate of the first ten women flashed through my mind, and I collapsed onto the bed, too numb for tears. A year ago, I was brought to this luxurious estate along with a hundred other young women from all corners of the country. That day, Damian Blackwood had announced his terms to all of us: the first woman to give him a child would walk away with one billion dollars. And so, the race began. Pills, acupuncture, desperate prayers to any god who would listen… every trick in the book was tried, but no one got pregnant. Until a month later, when the plainest of us all, a quiet girl named Jenna, suddenly announced she was expecting. Damian was ecstatic. He showered her with attention, a constant stream of jewels and fine things delivered to her room. Over the next month, nine more canaries fell pregnant. I was the last one to sleep with Damian. And it only happened because he was drunk, stumbled into the wrong room, and took me in a hazy stupor. I thought my chances were zero. But to my shock, the next month, I too tested positive. Just as all the expectant mothers were praying for a smooth delivery, Jenna gave birth. It was a boy. Everyone envied her, believing the billion dollars was as good as hers. Instead, her arms and legs were severed on the spot, and she was buried alive with her child. The reason? Infidelity. The child wasn't Damian’s. One by one, the other women gave birth. And one by one, they were accused of cheating, of borrowing another man’s seed, and were met with the same brutal end. At first, I didn’t understand how Damian found out. Not until my own labor began. Damian stood guard outside the door himself, flanked by doctors and his personal security. The moment a child was born, a paternity test was performed. The first ten canaries failed that test, and their sentences were carried out immediately. It was true they had risked everything, getting pregnant by other men for the money. But I hadn't! So why did I give birth to five kittens? Right now, Damian Blackwood and his entourage were waiting just outside my door. What could I do? The other women at least had a baby that could be tested. But I had a litter of tiny, fluffy kittens. The second Damian saw them, he would have us all ground to dust. As panic consumed me, Damian's cold voice cut through the door. “What’s with the silence in there?” His urgent footsteps approached… 2 Damian was about to push the door open. I was frantic. I scrambled to scoop up the squirming kittens and shoved them into Martha’s arms, hissing in a low voice, “Quick! Hide them in the trash bin!” Martha gave me a shocked look, but her body moved faster than her brain. In a flash, all five kittens were nestled in the bin. Just as she finished, the door swung open. Damian’s gaze swept from the fainted doctor on the floor to my empty delivery bed. His brow furrowed. “What happened? Where’s your child?” His eyes bored into me, demanding an answer. I knew if I couldn't come up with a believable explanation, I’d be in a shallow grave within the minute. My heart hammered against my ribs, my mind racing. In that split second, I took a deep breath, rolled off the bed, and gave Damian a deep, solemn bow. “Mr. Blackwood! I… I have failed you!” Damian’s face instantly darkened. “Tell me, how exactly have you failed me?” As he spoke, the bodyguards behind him rested their hands on the hilts of their daggers. I clutched my stomach, feigning extreme shame, my voice trembling. “Mr. Blackwood, what I just fought to deliver… it wasn’t a baby!” “It was a giant, foul-smelling, years-old… bowel movement!” “The stench is what made the doctor faint!” The room fell into a dead silence. The doctors and bodyguards stared, their professional masks cracking with disbelief. Damian’s lips twitched. He eyed my stomach suspiciously. “Who performed your prenatal check-ups?” “Dr. Wells,” I said quickly. “Mr. Blackwood, Jenna and I never got along. Dr. Wells was her lover. I suspect he deliberately misdiagnosed me to make me look like a fool in front of you! I was stupid enough to believe him. I spent months eating everything in sight, thinking I was growing a baby, but I was just getting fat! The terrible pain just now… it wasn't labor, it was… relief!” Dr. Wells had already been disposed of along with Jenna. A dead man couldn't defend himself. He was the perfect scapegoat. Damian’s face was a thundercloud. “So, I've been waiting outside all this time… for you to take a dump?” 3 The humiliation was crushing, but I forced myself to nod. “I never expected such a… bizarre situation. I’m so sorry to have wasted your time.” Damian gave me a look I couldn't decipher, then barked an order to the doctor behind him. “Dr. Miles, examine her. See if she’s telling the truth.” It’s over! Dear God, you’re determined to take both my dignity and my life, aren’t you? Under Damian’s intense gaze, I held out my arm, feeling like the Grim Reaper was already calling my name. Dr. Miles conducted a thorough check, then pushed his glasses up his nose. “Mr. Blackwood, Miss Monroe’s physical condition is… quite unique.” Damian raised an eyebrow. “Unique how?” Dr. Miles’s tone was serious. “Her heartbeat is strong, her vitals are excellent. She shows none of the signs of a woman who has just endured childbirth. From a medical standpoint, she does not present as postpartum at all.” My eyes lit up. I wanted to fall at Dr. Miles’s feet and thank him. Of course, a normal woman would be half-dead after giving birth. But I wasn't normal! The five kittens combined weighed next to nothing. Delivering them had been no different from… well, what I claimed it was. If Damian wasn’t here, I could probably run a hundred-meter dash. Hearing the doctor’s report, Damian’s face grew even darker. He was probably picturing himself waiting anxiously outside the door for a pile of crap. A vein pulsed in his temple. He stared at me, his voice a low growl. “You absolute idiot.” “From now on, you’re moving to the back shed! You are not to come out without my permission!” The back shed? I nodded eagerly. “Thank you, Mr. Blackwood, for your immense generosity!” It worked! I was alive! The sheer joy of survival made me dizzy. I quickly grabbed a stunned Martha and the trash bin containing my children, and we moved into the shed that very night. It was dilapidated and old, but as I looked at the five tiny kittens nestled on a makeshift cushion, it felt like paradise. “Martha, quick, get some rice water. These little ones must be hungry.” Martha brought the water, but no matter how we tried, the kittens wouldn't drink. Seeing them huddled together so pitifully, Martha hesitated. “Miss Monroe, since you… gave birth to them… maybe you should try nursing them?” A human nursing cats? Was that even a thing? But they were mine. I couldn’t just watch them starve. I managed to express a little milk into a bowl. The moment I did, the five kittens, their eyes still sealed shut, scrambled toward it as if drawn by an invisible force. They lapped up the entire bowl in seconds. Just like their mother, I thought with a swell of pride. Tough little survivors. As I continued to feed them, I pondered the whole situation. I had only been with one man in my entire life: Damian Blackwood. So why did I give birth to a litter of kittens? I retraced every single detail before and during my pregnancy. My diet was normal. I hadn't been exposed to anything strange. The only unusual thing was the day before I slept with Damian. I’d found a pure white stray cat in a corner of the garden and given it some meat. Could it be? Was that cat repaying my kindness by gifting me five of its children? As I was lost in thought, I heard a soft, sweet voice. “Mama, hungry.” I thought I was hearing things. I looked down, and nearly jumped out of my skin. The five kittens who had just been greedily drinking milk had transformed into five plump, cherubic babies! 4 My hand trembled, and the bowl crashed to the floor. Martha shrieked and dove behind me. “Miss Monroe! The cats… they turned into people!” I swallowed hard. “I see them.” One moment, they were five balls of fluff. The next, five chubby human babies. Right now, all five of them were staring at me with wide, round eyes, repeating in their tiny, singsong voices, “Mama, hungry, eat-eat.” Oh, God, are you trying to kill me with shock? Giving birth to kittens was one thing. But now the kittens were turning into babies? “Martha! The door! Lock the door, now!” I practically threw myself at the door, fumbling with the lock. Then I took a deep breath and walked back to the cushion. Hesitantly, I reached out and poked the cheek of the nearest baby. It was soft. Warm. A real, living human. “You… you can talk?” I asked in disbelief. The baby I’d poked nodded vigorously and held out his little arms. “Mama, hold.” The other four immediately started whining. “Mama, hungry, eat-eat.” Oh, my God. Not only had they turned into people, but they could talk from birth? What in the world had I given birth to?! After the shock wore off, a strange wave of maternal instinct washed over me. Looking at their adorable, chubby faces, my heart melted. I didn't care if they were cats, demons, or humans. They were my children now. I snapped into action, picking them up one by one to nurse them. Perhaps because they were cats at their core, their appetites were small. They were all full in no time. The following days were a whirlwind of chaotic baby care in the shed. The five little ones spent most of their time as cute, well-behaved infants. They only transformed back into kittens when they were scared, usually when I scolded them. They grew at an astonishing rate, changing almost daily. Within two weeks, they could walk and even jump. I had warned them sternly never to leave our room, and they were obedient, so we avoided any close calls. While life inside the shed was a peaceful bubble of secrecy, outside, the story of “Ava Monroe’s ten-month pregnancy that produced a giant turd” had become the joke of the entire city. The estate buzzed with mockery. “Did you hear? That Ava Monroe was so desperate for money she was rubbing a belly full of crap and calling it her son!” “I heard the doctor fainted from the smell! He was so traumatized he quit on the spot!” “Now the whole city knows our estate has a woman who was pregnant with poop for ten months!” “And get this, she’s gone crazy in that shed. People hear her talking to herself, calling out for her ‘babies’ all day!” Martha would stomp her feet in anger whenever she heard the gossip, but I let it roll off my back. What did they know? I had five shape-shifting, talking babies! Whatever their origin, their intelligence was clearly superior to that of any drooling, ordinary infant. I even started to feel like it was a blessing in disguise. No more competing for favor, no more backstabbing. Life was a little poorer, but guarding my five precious secrets, it was also quite fulfilling. The only downside was the shed’s terrible condition. It was cold and drafty, and our daily meals consisted of leftovers from the main house. For five growing babies, cold scraps were barely enough to fill their tiny stomachs. One evening, I was staring at our empty bowls, wondering what to do, when I turned around and saw their cushion was empty! All five babies were gone!
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