The Dark Web

Lois Lane could feel the weight of her pregnancy now. The more she thought of it, the more little signs she "remembered"—odd cravings, unexpected tiredness, spotty and missing periods, putting on weight... She needed answers, and the regular web wasn't going to cut it. So she closed the regular databases and search engines, opening up a very specific set of programs...

It looked a lot like the internet, albeit circa early 1990s in some sense, wild west. Full of forbidden porn and ****, Russian copyright thieves posting scans of books, Chinese political dissidents, digital currency exchanges, and, Lois remembered as she navigated away from Silk Road to one of the less-well-known corners of things, occultists.

The reporter's fingers shook as she scrolled through the items on offer, looking for certain keywords..."idol," "fertility," "mother"... Ignoring the thought of nine months ago. Had it been just the one hookup? Or had she gone out more than once? Vague, flickering memories came to her of nights out drinking, waking up tired and...sticky... but she hadn't been drinking like that for a while. Eight or nine months, at least...though she couldn't remember why she had stopped.

There was a bit of chaff to go through. People selling Zatanna's used panties, jars of angel spunk, a vampiric strap-on that looked like an ivory spike, all manner of charms and spells and...

WANTED: IDOL OF THE DARK MOTHER

"Bingo," Lois whispered, leaning back in her chair. Her hand fell to rest on her stomach. She blinked and stared down at herself, the belly button not yet brushing the edge of the table, but...close. It had just been instinct, to move that way, but this was the first time she noticed it.

How long have I been doing that?

The reporter shook herself and clicked the listing. It offered a description, and a grainy etching, scanned from some old book. Warnings about the dangers...don't get any blood or other bodily fluids nearby, store in a warded container, a "potent talisman of fertility, capable of warping time and space"—Lois scanned down, looking for contact information. Who was looking for this thing, and why?

At the bottom of the entry was an email address—no names, that was taboo among the occultist set—but it was a lead, and Lois clicked the link, mentally composing the email as she squirmed, lower back suddenly aching...in fact, it had been aching for a while...and the edge of the table was digging into her belly.

Lois scooched her chair back, not even giving a second thought to the fact that a minute ago her swollen abdomen hadn't even been touching the edge of the table.