It was so clean.

Luna opened her eyes, not as much taking in the goriness of the scene before her but the actual artistic beauty behind it. For instance, the blood smeared on the doctor's hands was almost abstractly beautiful in the way it was splattered against his rubber gloves, and the scalpel, an inch or two inside her, was silver and glinted almost magically in the mid-morning daylight. Suddenly, the horribleness of the situation faded away, and all she could think of was tragic gorgeousness.

The doctor looked away for a moment and whispered to the nurse. He turned back around and said quietly, almost guiltily: "There's a bit of a problem."

"Okay," said Luna, if not a little too casually. She didn't think she would be able to see anything, but she could see something glinting in the sunlight, something red and pretty.

"You aren't worried or anything?" asked the doctor a bit curiously. He had performed a lot of abortions; usually, the girls were either crying softly or looking at him like zombies.

"Not really," said Luna with a tiny smile. "Carry on, I guess."

It was about then that the drugs hit her. It was only slightly at first, but then, she could see small, purple tendrils curling in and out of the doctor's ear. The nurse, who was holding her hand and talking to her softly, evolved into some kind of angel-like being, ethereally beautiful in the cold cleanliness of the operating room, her thick dark hair swirling around her head like seaweed.

The doctor paused momentarily, and suddenly, she could hear weirdly magnified noise as something—the mechanical killer—slowly sucked a fetus out of her, deliberately taking its time in the agonizingly long process. Yet despite everything—the goriness and surreal quality of it all—Luna felt elated, like she was cleaning her house, her temple, of some dirty foreign object.

Several minutes and ten sacrilegious illusions later, the doctor stopped the machine and smiled at her. "It went well," he said, taking off his gloves and throwing them into the trash. "You should probably stay here for a moment, but—"

"No, it's okay," said Luna, fairies and flowers dancing in her skull as she stood up. "Can I have some bandages or something?"

"Here are some pads," offered the nurse, handing her several. "No intimacy for two weeks."

Luna nodded and stepped out. "Thank you," she said before she left.