u/SydneySapphire

Part One: Link

Part Two: Link

Part Three: Link

I writhed in agony for two days. My memories were fractured pieces of reality, jumbled dreams, lights, and colors. Infection had taken over from the nasty bite and contaminated water. I was somewhere floating between life and death, wondering if living was even an afterthought through the pain.

When I finally came to, I awoke on a grooved plastic floor. Fog was seeping over me, and the air was thick with humidity. It could’ve easily been cut with a knife. My fingers were still tightly grasping the dagger, unable to unclench. I groaned as I pried my fingers off the metal. My palm stank from sticking to the handle for so long. The flesh was beginning to grow a funk that smelled eerily like rotten meat.

Gnats and flies buzzed around me in a great chorus of obnoxious sounds. My skin was covered in mosquito bites, and welts and bruises covered me. I didn’t have to look at them. I could feel them.

I noticed the metal railings first. Then I saw the front of the boat and the large gash on its side, where a storm had rolled it into this swampy area. Finally, I saw the skeleton of a half-eaten man. The bones were cracked where legs should be, and dry, brittle fingers were reaching out toward me in death. It seemed that he had died trying to get on this boat right where I lay.

I rolled onto my side, seeing a mixture of throw-up and pee. It must’ve been mine.

I sat up, shoulder aching, and turned to view what should have been a gangrenous lesion, dripping with foul pus. Instead, it was bandaged with swamp grass, leaves, and twine. I felt over it, realizing that someone or something had taken pity on me.

I shakily got to my knees, finding my backpack and kayak a few feet from me. It seemed that whoever had helped me also knew that I couldn’t survive without either of those things.

As I shakily crawled to my things, I heard a creak. I held tightly to the dagger, slipping around to look at the back of the boat. To my horror, the creature was not in the water. She was on the boat with me.

The creature was groaning, and blood was seeping out of her tail. She saw me, and her eyes darted toward the water, preparing to jump in. But another horrible groan bellowed out of her, forcing her to slam back onto the boat.

Her long, forked tongue flicked back and forth. Her blood was a sticky substance with a strange purple hue, but that wasn’t what shocked me. She was giving birth. Her tail twisted back and forth, undulating and grinding against the floor of the boat.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I whispered, inching closer.

She hissed and growled at me, and I backed away, not wanting to scare her. She’d helped me after all, and I didn’t want to leave her on her own even though I was terrified of her.

With a final and horrible roar, a loud gush came from her tail. Instinctively, she tore herself from the boat to grasp what had ripped through her. Covered in gelatinous purple goop and threadlike fibers and mucus, she began to lick an egg, consuming the pieces of flesh and afterbirth.

It resembled a shark egg, oddly shaped with a thin, parchment-like exterior, and, to my shock, a tiny, infantile mermaid moved within the egg, thumping against the thin membrane. It was formed and waiting to be released.

I swallowed hard, wondering if that was why the mermaid had separated herself from her pod. But my gut told me that something else made her leave, or maybe she was banished because of that egg.

With the quickness of a cat, she turned to stare at me, but she did not flee. She simply gazed. The fins on the side of her face quivered, and her lips formed a snarl, protecting her young.

I slowly pointed at the bandages, not wanting to frighten her. “Did you do this?”

She did not answer at first, but then she nodded.

The breath caught in my throat. “You can understand us?”

She looked out into the water, and she took a deep breath. “We have always known the language of men.” Her voice was low and gurgled in places, as if the words were forced through a fluid-filled drain. “But that dagger allows you the ability to understand us.”

I didn’t move, and I felt sick to my stomach. Cautiously, I looked down at the dagger. The eyes were glowing as I spoke to her. It was channeling some form of power into me, allowing me the ability to speak to the creature of old before me.

“What are you?” I asked.

“I am what your kind had yet to discover until now. Many eons ago, we were called Leviathans… Mermaids… Sirens… Selkies… We are all one and the same.”

My hands trembled. “Why- why has your kind taken over?”

A low growl vibrated through her chest, causing the gills and scales upon her to rattle like bones. “Your kind ate the depths. You poisoned us and poured sewage, waste, and sickness into the life-blood of the Earth, and you dare to ask me why…”

I clenched my teeth in anger. “I didn’t do those things.”

“What is one when millions… upon millions did. We’ve watched you all kill and toil away for centuries.”

I sat down, unable to move much closer out of fear and fatigue. My head was spinning, and my heart was thudding out of my chest. “Then why spare me?” I whispered, feeling tears swell into my eyes.

The creature cocked her head to the side, growing quiet. “Pity,” she gurgled.

Tears finally dripped down my nose, mouth, and cheeks. I couldn’t stop them now.

She grimaced and patted the egg beside her. “And yet… I also helped you because the dagger called to you. It chose you.”

I wiped my face to look more squarely at her, in a mixture of disbelief and terror, but slowly my eyes dropped to the egg. The outline of a small hand could be seen, pressed against the membrane and begging to be opened.

As she continued to rub over the egg, I realized that she was weak. Her skin did not look as vibrant as it did a few days ago. To me, it appeared that she was dying after laying her egg. She didn’t say it, but I knew that she was. Perhaps her kind were like spiders. They live for a time, but once they lay their egg, they won’t survive long after.

Without warning, she leaped into the water and disappeared with her egg.

And for three days, I did not see her, but our conversation played through my mind, rewinding and reliving itself inside of my memories. Her kind had caused the floods. They had caused all of it because of humanity and its vicious need for more… But as time went on, I realized that I didn’t blame them for what they’d done. We had poisoned their world. We had dumped chemicals and vile concoctions into their water… I don’t know if I condoned the loss of the many lives lost to the dreaded waters, but at least now I understood.

I continued to heal over those three days, slowly gaining strength. The bandages fell off, revealing the scar that now stretched across my shoulder. She’d sewn the skin back together after flushing the infection out. The herbal concoction that she’d rubbed on me had stained my skin green, and I didn’t want to know what it was because it smelled, reeking of fish and vomit.

On the fourth day on the boat, a red tide had nearly taken over the water around us, killing everything I could have eaten. Like red veins tracing through the water, the crimson algae was only spreading. The overgrowth of red algae had produced enough toxin that all the fish were beginning to bob to the surface, dead and rotten. The smell was nauseating.

That day, I ate through one of the cans that Lionel had given me and drank a bottle of water. I’d forgotten how clean water from a bottle tastes. At this point, I’m sure that I’m riddled with enough parasites and giardia to kill a grown bear from all the questionable sips of water that I’d taken. It’s impressive that my stomach hasn’t revolted against me yet, but maybe that was the call of survival seeping out of me.

The mermaid returned that night. I was asleep, lying on my back when I awoke to the sound of a loud thump. I bolted to my feet, dagger in hand. She had pulled herself onto the boat, turning to face me.

“Can’t stay here,” she gasped. “Algae…”

I looked at the egg she had wrapped in leaves, old netting, and twigs, creating a kind of cocoon for it. It was slung over her back, protected from the algae.

“The red algae will kill you as well, human. We must leave.”

I didn’t answer at first. My words were trapped in my throat, already used to the silence once again.

She slammed her palm onto the boat. “The red algae will only grow! The toxins will seep into the air and kill you next.”

I forced my words out. “There is nowhere else to go! I’m- I’m not fully healed.”

She grimaced at me before gnashing her teeth. “NEITHER AM I!” she spat.

My jaw clenched as I realized that there was only one other place to go, the city. While dangerous, if I kept to the shadows and only moved in the morning and late at night, I’d be fine. I had done it before, and even though I didn’t want to, I was running low on supplies.

She knew what I was thinking, and she dipped back into the water.

I grabbed my backpack and kicked my kayak back into the water. The red algae splashed around the kayak, perhaps hoping the wood could be claimed by its vicious touch as well.

I gently slipped into my kayak, wincing as my shoulder ached. I grabbed my paddle and began making my way to the city. But this time, the mermaid was not following me; she was leading me.

In the distance, the city was a ghostly form of rusting metal, creaking wood, and broken glass. All of it was a haunting reminder of the world that once was. I wasn’t sure what city I was staring at, but it didn’t matter. It was quiet in the way that a city should never be. Cars rested somewhere below my kayak, swallowed by the water and whims of the tide. The flood was a graveyard for this place, and the buildings were the tombstones, faint fingerprints that humans had once been here. One big ocean; one big landless world.

It took about three hours to paddle my way to the border of the city, and it was just as I thought: it was overrun by cannibals. Graffitied ghoulish faces were painted onto various buildings, and strings of bones and scalps lay drying on clotheslines. They left their mark on anything that wasn’t submerged. It was not a warning. It was nothing of the sort. It had become a way to distinguish territories between the groups. The infighting was relentless, as evidenced by the dripping limbs that hung above me, freshly torn from some petrified victim.

I paddled quietly, doing everything in my power not to make a sound in the water. But soon, we saw a group of the last remaining humans. The mermaid heard them first, thumping her hand onto the bottom of my kayak as a signal. I stopped paddling, inching around a corner to spot the terrible beings in the moonlight.

The remaining humans were nothing like you’d expect. They were naked, hairless, and skinny. Sores covered their mouths and arms. Golden crusts covered each leaking wound. They were barely human. They’d evolved into something else; a creature formed from terror and sickness. Whatever disease they had was spreading, only growing worse. It looked like a horrible case of impetigo, or maybe it was syphilis, causing their brains to rot. Their movements were jerky and quick, and they appeared more like zombies than actual people. Some were listless rather than exhibiting the erratic behavior of most. They were either sick or dying. I wasn’t sure. However, as I gazed upon them, I wondered what they used to be. Were they teachers or students, bankers or nurses? What were they before they descended into madness, eating each other to survive?

At one point, they were someone’s child, someone’s mother, brother, or loved one. Now they were nothing but skin and bone, barely conscious.

The rogue group had tied together wood, cardboard, metal sheets, and whatever else they found to build a small patch of land. It was unorganized, dangerous-looking, and pieces of metal protruded up in such a way that one wrong fall would result in a brutal death.

I watched them, trying to decide how we could get around them, but that wasn’t what I should have been scared of. I heard a loud bellow of laughter, and I fearfully shifted closer to the concrete slab of wall that sat near me.

The group of men that I’d narrowly escaped was floating to the island, and the scrawny humans on their cardboard island began to run. The group of men was hunting the poor naked people. They threw nets over them, capturing them like one would round up rabbits or pigs. The hairless humans began to squeal, rolling on the ground and screaming into the night sky. The ones that escaped bolted into the water, swimming like rats into the sewer of this new world.

“A good one tonight!” One of the men yelled, wrestling a naked human to the ground after subduing it with netting.

They celebrated.

They tied up the broken shell of humanity and began to beat it.

Loud crunches echoed around me as the brittle bones of the scrawny man broke. He writhed in fear and pain, yelling and shrieking. I cringed at the noise, hearing the poor, aching cry. I covered my ears, unable to listen any longer.

The mermaid slowly rose to the surface to watch as well. Her eyes were unwavering, more willing to watch the cruelty of man.

When the man was dead, his bones ground into jelly, they began to rip him apart. Limb by limb, they tore his arms and legs from his torso while the others built a fire. They fought over the best pieces, killing and beating each other until they either won or lost.

In glee, they smeared the blood onto their faces, celebrating the kill with fervor. They chanted loudly, screeching as they praised themselves.

They ripped through his chest cavity, tearing through his ribs and cracking his sternum. The squelch of reaching inside him was enough to make me stifle a retch. One man pulled out his heart, squishing it in his fist and squeezing the blood into his mouth.

I’d never seen something so gruesome and vile.

Without a second thought, they tossed the entrails onto the makeshift piece of land to rot, and the smell was putrid. A horrible mixture of bodily fluids, iron, and filth.

There are no words to describe what I witnessed. The death of that man was scarring in more ways than I could ever express. Some of the men began to eat him raw, and some used fire to at least cook him.

I covered my mouth, forcing myself not to throw up. I couldn’t take it any longer. I needed to get out of here. I couldn’t stand to watch this depravity for one more second.

I began to slip my boat backward, slowly and steadily until I was far enough away to take a deep breath. The mermaid rose next to me and pointed to a building nearby. It was nearly fully submerged, not an ideal place for the groups of freaks that roamed here.

I found a window in the back, broke it, and pulled my kayak inside. The mermaid followed.

Some roof beams were still dry above the water, and I balanced on my kayak, stood, and grabbed one. I pulled myself out of the water, lying down on the beam to bed for the night.

Still clutching the knife, I looked down at the mermaid as she swam back and forth below me. I looked down at the dagger, and I finally asked the question that I’d been thinking about for a while.

“What is this dagger? Why did it choose me?”

She looked up at me. “It was once the dagger of our chief. He did not want this,” she replied through gurgles, gesturing at the water around us. “A prophecy from the ancient stones chronicled the rise of a new world. The dagger was supposed to call the one who was destined to find sanctuary for us. The pod that attacked me saw the knife because they feared what it would do to them… scared that it had chosen you… and it has.”

My eyes knit together. “And how did you get it?” I asked in confusion.

She sighed, clicking her tongue in annoyance. “I was the chief’s mate. This is his heir,” she growled, pointing to her egg. “I was abandoned by my people because I stood by him. And to my horror, that dagger called to a human.”

A human.

A weapon forged by her people had chosen her enemy.

Me… A human.

Part One: Link

Part Two: Link

Part Three: Link

I writhed in agony for two days. My memories were fractured pieces of reality, jumbled dreams, lights, and colors. Infection had taken over from the nasty bite and contaminated water. I was somewhere floating between life and death, wondering if living was even an afterthought through the pain.

When I finally came to, I awoke on a grooved plastic floor. Fog was seeping over me, and the air was thick with humidity. It could’ve easily been cut with a knife. My fingers were still tightly grasping the dagger, unable to unclench. I groaned as I pried my fingers off the metal. My palm stank from sticking to the handle for so long. The flesh was beginning to grow a funk that smelled eerily like rotten meat.

Gnats and flies buzzed around me in a great chorus of obnoxious sounds. My skin was covered in mosquito bites, and welts and bruises covered me. I didn’t have to look at them. I could feel them.

I noticed the metal railings first. Then I saw the front of the boat and the large gash on its side, where a storm had rolled it into this swampy area. Finally, I saw the skeleton of a half-eaten man. The bones were cracked where legs should be, and dry, brittle fingers were reaching out toward me in death. It seemed that he had died trying to get on this boat right where I lay.

I rolled onto my side, seeing a mixture of throw-up and pee. It must’ve been mine.

I sat up, shoulder aching, and turned to view what should have been a gangrenous lesion, dripping with foul pus. Instead, it was bandaged with swamp grass, leaves, and twine. I felt over it, realizing that someone or something had taken pity on me.

I shakily got to my knees, finding my backpack and kayak a few feet from me. It seemed that whoever had helped me also knew that I couldn’t survive without either of those things.

As I shakily crawled to my things, I heard a creak. I held tightly to the dagger, slipping around to look at the back of the boat. To my horror, the creature was not in the water. She was on the boat with me.

The creature was groaning, and blood was seeping out of her tail. She saw me, and her eyes darted toward the water, preparing to jump in. But another horrible groan bellowed out of her, forcing her to slam back onto the boat.

Her long, forked tongue flicked back and forth. Her blood was a sticky substance with a strange purple hue, but that wasn’t what shocked me. She was giving birth. Her tail twisted back and forth, undulating and grinding against the floor of the boat.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I whispered, inching closer.

She hissed and growled at me, and I backed away, not wanting to scare her. She’d helped me after all, and I didn’t want to leave her on her own even though I was terrified of her.

With a final and horrible roar, a loud gush came from her tail. Instinctively, she tore herself from the boat to grasp what had ripped through her. Covered in gelatinous purple goop and threadlike fibers and mucus, she began to lick an egg, consuming the pieces of flesh and afterbirth.

It resembled a shark egg, oddly shaped with a thin, parchment-like exterior, and, to my shock, a tiny, infantile mermaid moved within the egg, thumping against the thin membrane. It was formed and waiting to be released.

I swallowed hard, wondering if that was why the mermaid had separated herself from her pod. But my gut told me that something else made her leave, or maybe she was banished because of that egg.

With the quickness of a cat, she turned to stare at me, but she did not flee. She simply gazed. The fins on the side of her face quivered, and her lips formed a snarl, protecting her young.

I slowly pointed at the bandages, not wanting to frighten her. “Did you do this?”

She did not answer at first, but then she nodded.

The breath caught in my throat. “You can understand us?”

She looked out into the water, and she took a deep breath. “We have always known the language of men.” Her voice was low and gurgled in places, as if the words were forced through a fluid-filled drain. “But that dagger allows you the ability to understand us.”

I didn’t move, and I felt sick to my stomach. Cautiously, I looked down at the dagger. The eyes were glowing as I spoke to her. It was channeling some form of power into me, allowing me the ability to speak to the creature of old before me.

“What are you?” I asked.

“I am what your kind had yet to discover until now. Many eons ago, we were called Leviathans… Mermaids… Sirens… Selkies… We are all one and the same.”

My hands trembled. “Why- why has your kind taken over?”

A low growl vibrated through her chest, causing the gills and scales upon her to rattle like bones. “Your kind ate the depths. You poisoned us and poured sewage, waste, and sickness into the life-blood of the Earth, and you dare to ask me why…”

I clenched my teeth in anger. “I didn’t do those things.”

“What is one when millions… upon millions did. We’ve watched you all kill and toil away for centuries.”

I sat down, unable to move much closer out of fear and fatigue. My head was spinning, and my heart was thudding out of my chest. “Then why spare me?” I whispered, feeling tears swell into my eyes.

The creature cocked her head to the side, growing quiet. “Pity,” she gurgled.

Tears finally dripped down my nose, mouth, and cheeks. I couldn’t stop them now.

She grimaced and patted the egg beside her. “And yet… I also helped you because the dagger called to you. It chose you.”

I wiped my face to look more squarely at her, in a mixture of disbelief and terror, but slowly my eyes dropped to the egg. The outline of a small hand could be seen, pressed against the membrane and begging to be opened.

As she continued to rub over the egg, I realized that she was weak. Her skin did not look as vibrant as it did a few days ago. To me, it appeared that she was dying after laying her egg. She didn’t say it, but I knew that she was. Perhaps her kind were like spiders. They live for a time, but once they lay their egg, they won’t survive long after.

Without warning, she leaped into the water and disappeared with her egg.

And for three days, I did not see her, but our conversation played through my mind, rewinding and reliving itself inside of my memories. Her kind had caused the floods. They had caused all of it because of humanity and its vicious need for more… But as time went on, I realized that I didn’t blame them for what they’d done. We had poisoned their world. We had dumped chemicals and vile concoctions into their water… I don’t know if I condoned the loss of the many lives lost to the dreaded waters, but at least now I understood.

I continued to heal over those three days, slowly gaining strength. The bandages fell off, revealing the scar that now stretched across my shoulder. She’d sewn the skin back together after flushing the infection out. The herbal concoction that she’d rubbed on me had stained my skin green, and I didn’t want to know what it was because it smelled, reeking of fish and vomit.

On the fourth day on the boat, a red tide had nearly taken over the water around us, killing everything I could have eaten. Like red veins tracing through the water, the crimson algae was only spreading. The overgrowth of red algae had produced enough toxin that all the fish were beginning to bob to the surface, dead and rotten. The smell was nauseating.

That day, I ate through one of the cans that Lionel had given me and drank a bottle of water. I’d forgotten how clean water from a bottle tastes. At this point, I’m sure that I’m riddled with enough parasites and giardia to kill a grown bear from all the questionable sips of water that I’d taken. It’s impressive that my stomach hasn’t revolted against me yet, but maybe that was the call of survival seeping out of me.

The mermaid returned that night. I was asleep, lying on my back when I awoke to the sound of a loud thump. I bolted to my feet, dagger in hand. She had pulled herself onto the boat, turning to face me.

“Can’t stay here,” she gasped. “Algae…”

I looked at the egg she had wrapped in leaves, old netting, and twigs, creating a kind of cocoon for it. It was slung over her back, protected from the algae.

“The red algae will kill you as well, human. We must leave.”

I didn’t answer at first. My words were trapped in my throat, already used to the silence once again.

She slammed her palm onto the boat. “The red algae will only grow! The toxins will seep into the air and kill you next.”

I forced my words out. “There is nowhere else to go! I’m- I’m not fully healed.”

She grimaced at me before gnashing her teeth. “NEITHER AM I!” she spat.

My jaw clenched as I realized that there was only one other place to go, the city. While dangerous, if I kept to the shadows and only moved in the morning and late at night, I’d be fine. I had done it before, and even though I didn’t want to, I was running low on supplies.

She knew what I was thinking, and she dipped back into the water.

I grabbed my backpack and kicked my kayak back into the water. The red algae splashed around the kayak, perhaps hoping the wood could be claimed by its vicious touch as well.

I gently slipped into my kayak, wincing as my shoulder ached. I grabbed my paddle and began making my way to the city. But this time, the mermaid was not following me; she was leading me.

In the distance, the city was a ghostly form of rusting metal, creaking wood, and broken glass. All of it was a haunting reminder of the world that once was. I wasn’t sure what city I was staring at, but it didn’t matter. It was quiet in the way that a city should never be. Cars rested somewhere below my kayak, swallowed by the water and whims of the tide. The flood was a graveyard for this place, and the buildings were the tombstones, faint fingerprints that humans had once been here. One big ocean; one big landless world.

It took about three hours to paddle my way to the border of the city, and it was just as I thought: it was overrun by cannibals. Graffitied ghoulish faces were painted onto various buildings, and strings of bones and scalps lay drying on clotheslines. They left their mark on anything that wasn’t submerged. It was not a warning. It was nothing of the sort. It had become a way to distinguish territories between the groups. The infighting was relentless, as evidenced by the dripping limbs that hung above me, freshly torn from some petrified victim.

I paddled quietly, doing everything in my power not to make a sound in the water. But soon, we saw a group of the last remaining humans. The mermaid heard them first, thumping her hand onto the bottom of my kayak as a signal. I stopped paddling, inching around a corner to spot the terrible beings in the moonlight.

The remaining humans were nothing like you’d expect. They were naked, hairless, and skinny. Sores covered their mouths and arms. Golden crusts covered each leaking wound. They were barely human. They’d evolved into something else; a creature formed from terror and sickness. Whatever disease they had was spreading, only growing worse. It looked like a horrible case of impetigo, or maybe it was syphilis, causing their brains to rot. Their movements were jerky and quick, and they appeared more like zombies than actual people. Some were listless rather than exhibiting the erratic behavior of most. They were either sick or dying. I wasn’t sure. However, as I gazed upon them, I wondered what they used to be. Were they teachers or students, bankers or nurses? What were they before they descended into madness, eating each other to survive?

At one point, they were someone’s child, someone’s mother, brother, or loved one. Now they were nothing but skin and bone, barely conscious.

The rogue group had tied together wood, cardboard, metal sheets, and whatever else they found to build a small patch of land. It was unorganized, dangerous-looking, and pieces of metal protruded up in such a way that one wrong fall would result in a brutal death.

I watched them, trying to decide how we could get around them, but that wasn’t what I should have been scared of. I heard a loud bellow of laughter, and I fearfully shifted closer to the concrete slab of wall that sat near me.

The group of men that I’d narrowly escaped was floating to the island, and the scrawny humans on their cardboard island began to run. The group of men was hunting the poor naked people. They threw nets over them, capturing them like one would round up rabbits or pigs. The hairless humans began to squeal, rolling on the ground and screaming into the night sky. The ones that escaped bolted into the water, swimming like rats into the sewer of this new world.

“A good one tonight!” One of the men yelled, wrestling a naked human to the ground after subduing it with netting.

They celebrated.

They tied up the broken shell of humanity and began to beat it.

Loud crunches echoed around me as the brittle bones of the scrawny man broke. He writhed in fear and pain, yelling and shrieking. I cringed at the noise, hearing the poor, aching cry. I covered my ears, unable to listen any longer.

The mermaid slowly rose to the surface to watch as well. Her eyes were unwavering, more willing to watch the cruelty of man.

When the man was dead, his bones ground into jelly, they began to rip him apart. Limb by limb, they tore his arms and legs from his torso while the others built a fire. They fought over the best pieces, killing and beating each other until they either won or lost.

In glee, they smeared the blood onto their faces, celebrating the kill with fervor. They chanted loudly, screeching as they praised themselves.

They ripped through his chest cavity, tearing through his ribs and cracking his sternum. The squelch of reaching inside him was enough to make me stifle a retch. One man pulled out his heart, squishing it in his fist and squeezing the blood into his mouth.

I’d never seen something so gruesome and vile.

Without a second thought, they tossed the entrails onto the makeshift piece of land to rot, and the smell was putrid. A horrible mixture of bodily fluids, iron, and filth.

There are no words to describe what I witnessed. The death of that man was scarring in more ways than I could ever express. Some of the men began to eat him raw, and some used fire to at least cook him.

I covered my mouth, forcing myself not to throw up. I couldn’t take it any longer. I needed to get out of here. I couldn’t stand to watch this depravity for one more second.

I began to slip my boat backward, slowly and steadily until I was far enough away to take a deep breath. The mermaid rose next to me and pointed to a building nearby. It was nearly fully submerged, not an ideal place for the groups of freaks that roamed here.

I found a window in the back, broke it, and pulled my kayak inside. The mermaid followed.

Some roof beams were still dry above the water, and I balanced on my kayak, stood, and grabbed one. I pulled myself out of the water, lying down on the beam to bed for the night.

Still clutching the knife, I looked down at the mermaid as she swam back and forth below me. I looked down at the dagger, and I finally asked the question that I’d been thinking about for a while.

“What is this dagger? Why did it choose me?”

She looked up at me. “It was once the dagger of our chief. He did not want this,” she replied through gurgles, gesturing at the water around us. “A prophecy from the ancient stones chronicled the rise of a new world. The dagger was supposed to call the one who was destined to find sanctuary for us. The pod that attacked me saw the knife because they feared what it would do to them… scared that it had chosen you… and it has.”

My eyes knit together. “And how did you get it?” I asked in confusion.

She sighed, clicking her tongue in annoyance. “I was the chief’s mate. This is his heir,” she growled, pointing to her egg. “I was abandoned by my people because I stood by him. And to my horror, that dagger called to a human.”

A human.

A weapon forged by her people had chosen her enemy.

Me… A human.

Part One: Link

Part Two: Link

I don’t know when I fell asleep. I tried to keep my eyes open all night, watching the creature below me. She circled slowly, guarding the tree, but I’m not sure if guarding is the right word. Waiting might be better. Waiting for me to fall… Waiting for me to slip… Waiting…

By the time I realized that I was asleep, I jolted back awake. It was morning. The sun was still hidden behind dark clouds, shielding her face from the agony of creation. And yet, I looked up every morning to see if she would emerge. She didn’t. I don’t think she’d ever return.

I looked into the water, anticipating the glow of emerald eyes below me, but instead, I saw nothing. My kayak was still hidden behind the low-hanging branches, safely tucked away inside the foliage.

I quietly made my way down to the kayak, sliding inside and taking a deep breath. It was unharmed, but something clinked at the bottom. I maneuvered my hand inside the kayak and found the dagger that the creature in the water had given me. I’d nearly forgotten about it when I saw Lionel.

The blade wasn’t rusted or eaten by time, but it was heavy. Barnacles covered the front, and since it had dried out all night, they were ready to be scraped off. I ground the blade against one of the low-hanging limbs, watching as a face emerged in the metal. It was the solemn expression of a woman carved onto the handle, long, serrated tendrils of hair twisting around the blade. Her eyes were emeralds.

I tucked the blade into my jacket, and I gently paddled back toward the house.

It was silent. The slap of my paddle in the water was the only haunting echo. Perhaps the water around us could sense Lionel’s departure from this world, and while I knew that I had no business caring about Lionel, I couldn’t leave him to rot. I paddled around the house until I found the window that I’d escaped through last night. I flattened myself against my kayak and slid through.

It didn’t stink terribly yet, but flies were beginning to find him. I inched closer to the edge of the dry wood, and I pulled myself out of my kayak to sit on the edge. I took a deep breath of clean air, and I pulled the collar of my t-shirt up, not wanting to catch a whiff of anything. Carefully, I scooted to the center where the floorboards were more stable. I grabbed one of the crochet blankets, and I covered him.

He looked peaceful under the blanket, shrouded and hidden from the world around him. I sat down next to him for a moment, honoring the sacrifice he’d made for me. I pulled my knees to my chest, staring at his one bruised hand that lay uncovered.

I didn’t cry; I was hollow inside, empty.

Grief has a hollowing effect, carving out the pieces of your life and the emotions that keep you human. I know grief well. All survivors of the floods know grief.

As I looked around for something else to cover him, I found a picture. I bent down to pick it up and gazed at a young man, his beautiful wife, and tiny daughter. Lionel had led a good life.

I looked back at his body on the ground, wishing that I’d got a little more time with him, but his kindness wasn’t made for the likes of this world now. Maybe, in another world, he’d have been someone that I enjoyed talking to, but then again, in another world, we would never have met. I much preferred the idea of a world where we were never forced to meet.

I took the picture, and I placed it on top of his covered body, emulating the love that a friend might give at their comrade’s funeral. Then, I looked around, hoping to find something I could take with me on my journey. And there, lying in the corner, near the busted cookie tin, was the dog tag of Lionel’s old pet. I picked it up, seeing her name, Susie.

I smiled upon seeing her name, not sure why. But the idea of Susie coming with me on my journey felt comforting. I didn’t think Lionel would mind, so I shoved her tag into my pocket.

I scrounged around a little longer. I found one candle, a half-empty box of matches, a hidden can of tuna, and a small flask of alcohol. The group of men from last night had taken most everything, but they definitely weren’t thorough.

I took off my backpack, and I grabbed Lionel’s mattress. I pulled it on top of him, poured most of the alcohol on it, lit a match, and tossed it. The mattress erupted in flames, and I grabbed my backpack and supplies. I climbed back into my kayak, slid out of the window, and paddled a few yards away.

The roof caught fire, and then the house caved in, taking Lionel with it.

And with a heavy heart, I paddled onward.

My body moved rhythmically.

Left. Right.

Left. Right.

Over and over again.

The sound of my kayak cutting through the water had become monotonous background noise I hardly noticed anymore. It had become my life.

My friend Jared lived by a railroad in my hometown. I spent the night with him for the first time in the third grade, and I was awoken by the thunderous roar of the train, clanging down the tracks. Jared didn’t wake up, but it scared the crap out of me. The walls rattled; the loud whistle of the train shook the silence of the home. I asked him about it that morning over breakfast, and his mom laughed and explained habituation to me, the idea that your body can become so used to a sound or a smell that it stops recognizing or noticing it.

Crazy that paddling a kayak had become my habituation.

After what felt like hours of paddling, I saw a city in the distance. I could see a few tall buildings, but I was not foolish enough to go there. I’d learned very early on that the monstrous people that eat humans… They always gather in cities. They pick off the weakest man amongst them, and they eat him. They eat his limbs and his muscles. They eat his eyes and his heart. Then, they suck the marrow from his bones.

The men who were tracking me were most likely hanging around there as well, waiting for me. Instead, I ducked into the tall trees that bordered the city, clinging to the outer rim.

I saw a body trapped inside a clump of weeds. The flesh was nearly molded, and mushrooms decayed the soft, uneaten pieces. Goopy intestines had exploded out of the top of it, or maybe something had ripped them out. Crabs, insects, and fish were feasting on it. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, but does it truly matter once the person who occupied it is gone?

The last moments of Lionel ripped through my memories before I could stop them, and I quickly shook my head. His kindness had stained me. The bitter part of me loathed that I had stayed. If I had kept away from him, he would’ve died alone. His last moments would’ve remained hopeless and solitary, but somehow, when he saw me and offered me genuine compassion, he’d revived his own hope. And when he died, he transferred his hope into me, and damn, I can’t stand the feeling of it.

My father was an engineer. He’d always worked with his hands, trusting his mind more than most people are able. He told me about energy, noting that it could neither be created nor destroyed, but it could be transferred.

I think that’s what Lionel did to me. He’d awakened something that I wish had died. He’d given me a longing for others like me, and I didn’t like that. I’d buried that, and it had kept me alive.

Part of me thinks that I would rather die in this world feeling nothing at all, but another part of me doesn’t want to be alone. Lionel had given me a gift that I didn’t understand quite yet. I didn’t want it, but maybe not all gifts are wanted to begin with.

I wove through the trees without difficulty, but I heard a few whoops and yells from the city beyond. I was right. They were hoping to catch me there. I went deeper into the woods.

Cattails, water hyacinth, and moss had taken up most of the watery terrain. The world was beginning to look like a swamp, and I half expected water-dwelling dinosaurs to saunter from within the tall cattails.

Frogs, snakes, and fish had thrived amid humanity’s annihilation. They’ve multiplied to quite an extent, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t helpful to me. If I were lucky, I could catch a frog and eat it, but that was only if I had dry land to cook it. I mainly live off dried fish. I have a net I can use. I’ll throw out a cast, pick the best-looking fish, and throw it onto my kayak or a tree to dry out. Then I eat it. It doesn’t taste good, but you don’t care about taste when the world is ending.

As I continued to maneuver through the trees and cattails, moss, and various plant life, I heard splashing behind me. I turned to see the same creature in the water following me, but she was not alone. Another group of them had found her. She was fighting with them, and I ducked behind the cattails to watch.

Flashes of fins, torn flesh, and scales writhed in the murky depths, but then a horrible screech ripped through the water. The creature that I knew had thrown herself out of the water to escape them, clinging to the limbs of trees.

Her tail was sliced, and from the looks of it, they didn’t want her alive. She must’ve been thrown out of her original pod for some reason.

The cuts stretched down her fins were oozing purple liquid, and one of her eyes was bloodied and bruised. As they moved close to her, she continued to screech loudly. The pod of supposed mermaids rose from the water to gaze at her.

My eyes grew wide as I saw them out of the water, and my mouth went dry. I’d never seen so many.

They were not beautiful, but they weren’t ugly. They were a mixture of beast, man, and monster. Hybrid creations hidden within the sea of old; another being molded from the clay of the earth and toils of the oceans.

But above the water, they were somehow more frightening than in it. Terror rocked through my chest, spurred by my thudding heart. My hands began to shake, but still, I didn’t move. I didn’t want them to see me. I wouldn’t survive if I was attacked by that many mermaids.

They spoke back to her in a series of bird-like squawks and gurgled hisses. They gestured at her angrily.

I covered my mouth. They could speak to each other in a language that no human had ever heard. I sat back in my kayak, considering if they had caused the floods to begin with. What if they had influence over the Earth in such a way that humans didn’t? Did they cause this?

In the same breath that I felt guilty for being unable to help the creature that had followed me from Lionel’s house, one of the mermaids in the pod spotted me and alerted the others with a loud shriek, and all of the creatures turned to gaze upon me.

I bolted, paddle carving through the water, deeper and deeper into the forest of cattails. And they followed behind me, getting faster and faster.

But then, it was quiet. I slowed my kayak, unable to continue at the rate I was going. Sweat beaded down my face. My arms ached viciously, and my adrenaline was fading. There was no splashing of fins or swish of water. It was deathly quiet, but I knew they weren’t gone. Pods of mermaids like to play with their food. Much like dolphins do.

I’d once seen them attack a man at the beginning of the flood. They never noticed me watching, but I was.

They let the poor man swim away, allowing him one tiny sliver of hope. Then they ripped it from him. I expected this to be no different. They were letting me ripen like a fruit to pluck. They wanted me scared, and they wanted the adrenaline fresh.

My kayak rocked violently, and I clung to the edges of it. My fingernails dug into the wood, refusing to be thrown out. Using my paddle, I hit anything that breached the surface, but it wasn’t enough. One final rock and swell of water… The kayak flipped.

My ankle seared with pain as the rope around it jerked me. I bobbed to the surface, taking a deep breath before being plunged beneath the surface again.

They attacked quickly and effortlessly, landing efficient blows to my back and legs. Then, they launched their tails into me, thudding into my soft flesh, and I heard a rib crack. Bubbles erupted out of my mouth as I yelled in pain.

Their strikes were quick, and I didn’t stand a chance. It was a losing battle from the start. Humans aren’t made to fight in the water, and as time went on, I’d begun to realize that humans aren’t equipped to survive much of anything. We’re a weak species without our toys. We don’t have claws or teeth that pierce. We aren’t fast runners or quick swimmers. We can only breathe oxygen, and we aren’t agile. Humanity was always a ticking time bomb… Without our guns, money, land, and metal… we’re useless.

One of the mermaids grabbed me by my throat, gripping so tightly I felt the cartilage within my neck bending. While one grabbed a handful of my hair and exposed my fleshy throat, the other bit down quickly on my shoulder, teeth tearing into me.

In a last-ditch effort, I yanked the dagger out of my jacket pocket. One look at the blade, and all the creatures began to scream. Even in the water, the sound was deafening, piercing through the damp darkness.

They dropped me, fleeing from the blade.

Barely able to swim, I floated back to my kayak, pulling myself onto the side of it. I clutched the dagger to my chest, and I shakily reached up to feel the bite. My flesh was shredded, and blood was pouring from the wound. I was losing too much too quickly, and I could feel my body losing strength.

I yelled.

It was a yell formed of fleeting anguish, the knowledge that man wasn’t meant to live in this damp, dark, and dreary world. The sound tore through me. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to ache as much as it did, but the terror of nearly dying, or being on the cusp of it, made mortality even more bitter.

Humans may need sunshine, dry ground, clean water, and crops. They may need food, family, shelter, and dare I say, love. But we also need something deeper than just living. We need something that only a soul can crave. We need each other… Living a solitary life has nearly destroyed me, but living a solitary life without hope has consumed me.

But as if called, the creature leaped from the tree once the others had scattered. The last thing I remember was the splash of her entering the water and my kayak beginning to move as she navigated it into the deepest part of the cattails.

I was at her mercy and behest.

Part One: Link

Part Two: Link

I don’t know when I fell asleep. I tried to keep my eyes open all night, watching the creature below me. She circled slowly, guarding the tree, but I’m not sure if guarding is the right word. Waiting might be better. Waiting for me to fall… Waiting for me to slip… Waiting…

By the time I realized that I was asleep, I jolted back awake. It was morning. The sun was still hidden behind dark clouds, shielding her face from the agony of creation. And yet, I looked up every morning to see if she would emerge. She didn’t. I don’t think she’d ever return.

I looked into the water, anticipating the glow of emerald eyes below me, but instead, I saw nothing. My kayak was still hidden behind the low-hanging branches, safely tucked away inside the foliage.

I quietly made my way down to the kayak, sliding inside and taking a deep breath. It was unharmed, but something clinked at the bottom. I maneuvered my hand inside the kayak and found the dagger that the creature in the water had given me. I’d nearly forgotten about it when I saw Lionel.

The blade wasn’t rusted or eaten by time, but it was heavy. Barnacles covered the front, and since it had dried out all night, they were ready to be scraped off. I ground the blade against one of the low-hanging limbs, watching as a face emerged in the metal. It was the solemn expression of a woman carved onto the handle, long, serrated tendrils of hair twisting around the blade. Her eyes were emeralds.

I tucked the blade into my jacket, and I gently paddled back toward the house.

It was silent. The slap of my paddle in the water was the only haunting echo. Perhaps the water around us could sense Lionel’s departure from this world, and while I knew that I had no business caring about Lionel, I couldn’t leave him to rot. I paddled around the house until I found the window that I’d escaped through last night. I flattened myself against my kayak and slid through.

It didn’t stink terribly yet, but flies were beginning to find him. I inched closer to the edge of the dry wood, and I pulled myself out of my kayak to sit on the edge. I took a deep breath of clean air, and I pulled the collar of my t-shirt up, not wanting to catch a whiff of anything. Carefully, I scooted to the center where the floorboards were more stable. I grabbed one of the crochet blankets, and I covered him.

He looked peaceful under the blanket, shrouded and hidden from the world around him. I sat down next to him for a moment, honoring the sacrifice he’d made for me. I pulled my knees to my chest, staring at his one bruised hand that lay uncovered.

I didn’t cry; I was hollow inside, empty.

Grief has a hollowing effect, carving out the pieces of your life and the emotions that keep you human. I know grief well. All survivors of the floods know grief.

As I looked around for something else to cover him, I found a picture. I bent down to pick it up and gazed at a young man, his beautiful wife, and tiny daughter. Lionel had led a good life.

I looked back at his body on the ground, wishing that I’d got a little more time with him, but his kindness wasn’t made for the likes of this world now. Maybe, in another world, he’d have been someone that I enjoyed talking to, but then again, in another world, we would never have met. I much preferred the idea of a world where we were never forced to meet.

I took the picture, and I placed it on top of his covered body, emulating the love that a friend might give at their comrade’s funeral. Then, I looked around, hoping to find something I could take with me on my journey. And there, lying in the corner, near the busted cookie tin, was the dog tag of Lionel’s old pet. I picked it up, seeing her name, Susie.

I smiled upon seeing her name, not sure why. But the idea of Susie coming with me on my journey felt comforting. I didn’t think Lionel would mind, so I shoved her tag into my pocket.

I scrounged around a little longer. I found one candle, a half-empty box of matches, a hidden can of tuna, and a small flask of alcohol. The group of men from last night had taken most everything, but they definitely weren’t thorough.

I took off my backpack, and I grabbed Lionel’s mattress. I pulled it on top of him, poured most of the alcohol on it, lit a match, and tossed it. The mattress erupted in flames, and I grabbed my backpack and supplies. I climbed back into my kayak, slid out of the window, and paddled a few yards away.

The roof caught fire, and then the house caved in, taking Lionel with it.

And with a heavy heart, I paddled onward.

My body moved rhythmically.

Left. Right.

Left. Right.

Over and over again.

The sound of my kayak cutting through the water had become monotonous background noise I hardly noticed anymore. It had become my life.

My friend Jared lived by a railroad in my hometown. I spent the night with him for the first time in the third grade, and I was awoken by the thunderous roar of the train, clanging down the tracks. Jared didn’t wake up, but it scared the crap out of me. The walls rattled; the loud whistle of the train shook the silence of the home. I asked him about it that morning over breakfast, and his mom laughed and explained habituation to me, the idea that your body can become so used to a sound or a smell that it stops recognizing or noticing it.

Crazy that paddling a kayak had become my habituation.

After what felt like hours of paddling, I saw a city in the distance. I could see a few tall buildings, but I was not foolish enough to go there. I’d learned very early on that the monstrous people that eat humans… They always gather in cities. They pick off the weakest man amongst them, and they eat him. They eat his limbs and his muscles. They eat his eyes and his heart. Then, they suck the marrow from his bones.

The men who were tracking me were most likely hanging around there as well, waiting for me. Instead, I ducked into the tall trees that bordered the city, clinging to the outer rim.

I saw a body trapped inside a clump of weeds. The flesh was nearly molded, and mushrooms decayed the soft, uneaten pieces. Goopy intestines had exploded out of the top of it, or maybe something had ripped them out. Crabs, insects, and fish were feasting on it. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, but does it truly matter once the person who occupied it is gone?

The last moments of Lionel ripped through my memories before I could stop them, and I quickly shook my head. His kindness had stained me. The bitter part of me loathed that I had stayed. If I had kept away from him, he would’ve died alone. His last moments would’ve remained hopeless and solitary, but somehow, when he saw me and offered me genuine compassion, he’d revived his own hope. And when he died, he transferred his hope into me, and damn, I can’t stand the feeling of it.

My father was an engineer. He’d always worked with his hands, trusting his mind more than most people are able. He told me about energy, noting that it could neither be created nor destroyed, but it could be transferred.

I think that’s what Lionel did to me. He’d awakened something that I wish had died. He’d given me a longing for others like me, and I didn’t like that. I’d buried that, and it had kept me alive.

Part of me thinks that I would rather die in this world feeling nothing at all, but another part of me doesn’t want to be alone. Lionel had given me a gift that I didn’t understand quite yet. I didn’t want it, but maybe not all gifts are wanted to begin with.

I wove through the trees without difficulty, but I heard a few whoops and yells from the city beyond. I was right. They were hoping to catch me there. I went deeper into the woods.

Cattails, water hyacinth, and moss had taken up most of the watery terrain. The world was beginning to look like a swamp, and I half expected water-dwelling dinosaurs to saunter from within the tall cattails.

Frogs, snakes, and fish had thrived amid humanity’s annihilation. They’ve multiplied to quite an extent, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t helpful to me. If I were lucky, I could catch a frog and eat it, but that was only if I had dry land to cook it. I mainly live off dried fish. I have a net I can use. I’ll throw out a cast, pick the best-looking fish, and throw it onto my kayak or a tree to dry out. Then I eat it. It doesn’t taste good, but you don’t care about taste when the world is ending.

As I continued to maneuver through the trees and cattails, moss, and various plant life, I heard splashing behind me. I turned to see the same creature in the water following me, but she was not alone. Another group of them had found her. She was fighting with them, and I ducked behind the cattails to watch.

Flashes of fins, torn flesh, and scales writhed in the murky depths, but then a horrible screech ripped through the water. The creature that I knew had thrown herself out of the water to escape them, clinging to the limbs of trees.

Her tail was sliced, and from the looks of it, they didn’t want her alive. She must’ve been thrown out of her original pod for some reason.

The cuts stretched down her fins were oozing purple liquid, and one of her eyes was bloodied and bruised. As they moved close to her, she continued to screech loudly. The pod of supposed mermaids rose from the water to gaze at her.

My eyes grew wide as I saw them out of the water, and my mouth went dry. I’d never seen so many.

They were not beautiful, but they weren’t ugly. They were a mixture of beast, man, and monster. Hybrid creations hidden within the sea of old; another being molded from the clay of the earth and toils of the oceans.

But above the water, they were somehow more frightening than in it. Terror rocked through my chest, spurred by my thudding heart. My hands began to shake, but still, I didn’t move. I didn’t want them to see me. I wouldn’t survive if I was attacked by that many mermaids.

They spoke back to her in a series of bird-like squawks and gurgled hisses. They gestured at her angrily.

I covered my mouth. They could speak to each other in a language that no human had ever heard. I sat back in my kayak, considering if they had caused the floods to begin with. What if they had influence over the Earth in such a way that humans didn’t? Did they cause this?

In the same breath that I felt guilty for being unable to help the creature that had followed me from Lionel’s house, one of the mermaids in the pod spotted me and alerted the others with a loud shriek, and all of the creatures turned to gaze upon me.

I bolted, paddle carving through the water, deeper and deeper into the forest of cattails. And they followed behind me, getting faster and faster.

But then, it was quiet. I slowed my kayak, unable to continue at the rate I was going. Sweat beaded down my face. My arms ached viciously, and my adrenaline was fading. There was no splashing of fins or swish of water. It was deathly quiet, but I knew they weren’t gone. Pods of mermaids like to play with their food. Much like dolphins do.

I’d once seen them attack a man at the beginning of the flood. They never noticed me watching, but I was.

They let the poor man swim away, allowing him one tiny sliver of hope. Then they ripped it from him. I expected this to be no different. They were letting me ripen like a fruit to pluck. They wanted me scared, and they wanted the adrenaline fresh.

My kayak rocked violently, and I clung to the edges of it. My fingernails dug into the wood, refusing to be thrown out. Using my paddle, I hit anything that breached the surface, but it wasn’t enough. One final rock and swell of water… The kayak flipped.

My ankle seared with pain as the rope around it jerked me. I bobbed to the surface, taking a deep breath before being plunged beneath the surface again.

They attacked quickly and effortlessly, landing efficient blows to my back and legs. Then, they launched their tails into me, thudding into my soft flesh, and I heard a rib crack. Bubbles erupted out of my mouth as I yelled in pain.

Their strikes were quick, and I didn’t stand a chance. It was a losing battle from the start. Humans aren’t made to fight in the water, and as time went on, I’d begun to realize that humans aren’t equipped to survive much of anything. We’re a weak species without our toys. We don’t have claws or teeth that pierce. We aren’t fast runners or quick swimmers. We can only breathe oxygen, and we aren’t agile. Humanity was always a ticking time bomb… Without our guns, money, land, and metal… we’re useless.

One of the mermaids grabbed me by my throat, gripping so tightly I felt the cartilage within my neck bending. While one grabbed a handful of my hair and exposed my fleshy throat, the other bit down quickly on my shoulder, teeth tearing into me.

In a last-ditch effort, I yanked the dagger out of my jacket pocket. One look at the blade, and all the creatures began to scream. Even in the water, the sound was deafening, piercing through the damp darkness.

They dropped me, fleeing from the blade.

Barely able to swim, I floated back to my kayak, pulling myself onto the side of it. I clutched the dagger to my chest, and I shakily reached up to feel the bite. My flesh was shredded, and blood was pouring from the wound. I was losing too much too quickly, and I could feel my body losing strength.

I yelled.

It was a yell formed of fleeting anguish, the knowledge that man wasn’t meant to live in this damp, dark, and dreary world. The sound tore through me. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to ache as much as it did, but the terror of nearly dying, or being on the cusp of it, made mortality even more bitter.

Humans may need sunshine, dry ground, clean water, and crops. They may need food, family, shelter, and dare I say, love. But we also need something deeper than just living. We need something that only a soul can crave. We need each other… Living a solitary life has nearly destroyed me, but living a solitary life without hope has consumed me.

But as if called, the creature leaped from the tree once the others had scattered. The last thing I remember was the splash of her entering the water and my kayak beginning to move as she navigated it into the deepest part of the cattails.

I was at her mercy and behest.

Link to: Part One

After careful consideration and a desire for more food, I slowly paddled back to the house, where the old man waited patiently. I swallowed hard, feeling the dryness of my tongue and the craving for water. Maybe he had some to spare…

I wasn’t sure if he knew that I was slowly starving to death or if he’d just given me food out of the kindness of his heart. Regardless, I was grateful. Food was food, and I didn’t have any. I was to the point where I’d considered eating wood and sticks.

He opened the skylight. “Want more?”

I nodded, still too nervous to speak. Honestly, I didn’t really know if I could speak anymore. The last words I uttered were quiet mutterings, mumbles that one says when thinking. I doubt it even counted as speech.

He smiled and opened the skylight wider. “Why don’t you go hide your kayak on the other side of the roof? The branches of the big tree back there are thick and tall. No one will see it if you want to come inside.”

I shook my head. It didn’t matter what he said to me. I wasn’t leaving my damn kayak.

“Well, can I sit on the roof with you?” he asked, slowly climbing out.

He moved shakily over the roof, carefully placing his feet so he didn’t fall. His age was showing: arthritic knees and swollen joints. His fingers were crooked. I’d never noticed before. He moved slowly and gently to the edge of the roof where I floated in my kayak.

“I’d forgotten what it was like to have company. You don’t have to talk. My name is Lionel,” he said, extending a hand out to me.

My body lurched back instinctively, and my jaw tightened. It didn’t matter that we were both human. I’d seen our own kind rip people apart like monsters, and it was far scarier than seeing one of the beasts in the water do it. The creatures in the water only killed us to eat, but watching people do it for sport was much different.

I’d run into a tough group a few weeks back. They’d stumbled upon me as I slept in a tree, and I bolted into the water, kayak dragging behind me. They taunted and teased, but I saw their eyes. They all had the same empty and emotionless eyes. Whatever they’d experienced was something I’d never understand or want to. One of them was missing a hand. It was raggedly healed, a flap of flesh torn from the socket. Some of them were covered in burn scars, and others had scabby spots all over them. Some kind of fungus or disease, spreading between them like wildfire.

Lionel’s face softened at my reaction. It was the same sad expression that one would give an abused dog, a mixture of pity and compassion. He reached into the pocket of his flannel jacket and produced another can. He shakily placed it on the edge of the roof, and he sat down near me. He was close, but not close enough to grab me and drag me into his home to be butchered. I think he could sense my hesitance and fear. I’m sure it radiated off me, filling the air like smoke.

I swallowed again, and my teeth chattered. Anxiety boiled inside of me, writhing like worms in the sun. The burn to eat something… to chew something… was primal, leaking up from my throat without mercy.

He pulled a rusted can opener out of his jacket pocket. His misshapen knuckles looked painful, but still, he began to crank the can open. The withered paper on the can was yellow and green. The picture of a plump orange peach sat prominently on the front, ripe and bursting.

The can popped open, and my eyes widened at the colorful orange fruit floating within. The smell was intoxicating, filling my mind. Smell has memory. It holds something I can’t quite describe in the same way that I feel it. And you don’t realize how much you’d miss something so stupid. I never even liked peaches. My mom loved them, and she always made peach cobbler and ice cream in the summer. In fact, I can remember turning my nose up to it, but now, I’d rather die than not get a single taste of those sweet little morsels.

Enthralled by the can of peaches, I don’t remember if the old man spoke to me while he opened the can. My eyes were so fixated on the fruit that I barely remembered to breathe.

He slid the can to the edge of the roof, and I snatched it up. I dug my hand into the sticky sweetness. Tears dripped down my cheeks as I stuffed peach wedge after peach wedge into my mouth. They were so unbelievably good. It felt sinful to eat them.

I devoured them, tearing into the soft flesh with fervor. I didn’t bother chewing. Some of the slick wedges I swallowed whole, and some I stored in my cheeks, wanting to at least savor the sugar.

My mouth was full of them by the time the can was empty. I had eaten them so fast because I was scared that the old man would rip the can away, tear my fleeting second of joy from me as fast as I’d gotten it.

I chewed quickly as the salt from my tears dripped into my mouth and down my nose.

The old man began to cry as well. “I’m the last of my folks too.”

In annoyance, he shook his head ruefully, refusing to let the tears fall. “I’m glad I can share some of my food with you. I’d begun to lose a bit of myself in the silence.”

I swallowed a hunk of peaches and looked down at my fingers. I had forgotten how sticky fruit juice was, or the way that sugar left a thin residue on skin. The delicious, sticky sweetness made small gossamer fibers stretch between my fingertips as I pressed them together.

My heart shattered, remembering summer popsicles with my little brother, baseball practice with red energy drinks, and slushees from the gas station.

Memories swelled back into my body. I could see my mother’s eyes. She was smiling at me, hugging me after I’d failed my first test in trigonometry. She’d made sticky toffee brownies that clung to the roof of my mouth, telling me that I’d do better next time.

My stomach lurched, and I gagged, but I held the food down. I needed it and wanted it, but the taste of the peaches brought sadness.  

Lionel’s voice echoed back into my mind, ripping away the precious memories that ached through me. He pointed to the house closest to us. “Daughter lived there. She died two months back, I think. Not like I can give you a good answer. No calendar. Nothing to keep up with it.”

I looked up at him, wiping my cheeks and licking my fingers.

“West Nile Virus… I’m sure of it. Her house was full of mosquitoes. It was a terrible way to die. Found a mosquito net in the old neighbor’s attic. It felt evil to see it after losing my daughter to a mosquito-borne virus.”

“I’m sorry to ramble.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “It’s just been me and that damn mermaid for the last few weeks.”

I shook my head and raised my eyebrow at his mention of mermaids.

His eyebrows knit together. “If you don’t think they are mermaids, what do you think they are?” he asked with a smirk, wrinkles pulling his cheeks and crinkling his eyes.

He was daring me to answer, prying through my mind for a way to make me speak. Instead, I shrugged. I had my own theories, but they certainly weren’t the beautiful creatures from fairy tales. I didn’t know whether to call them mermaids or even sirens. I was beginning to think that they were something else. Something older… something that had been hiding from us for a long time.

My biology professor was a strange man. He was skinny and gaunt-looking. His rounded eyes and thin cheeks made him appear nearly skeletal. If the wind blew him, he might fly away with it. But his lust for knowledge and adventure was admirable. With wiry hands, he’d show us the wonders of the world, grinning as he explained the mysterious nature of the ocean. He never talked about mermaids or sirens, but something told me that he believed in them. After seeing my first creature when the floods started, I often thought about him.

Lionel talked to me for several hours as the sun began to set. He told me about his life, his children, his wife, and his pets. He was a janitor at the local college before he retired. His dog passed before the flood, and he keeps her dog tag in a cookie tin with his old driver’s license. And his wife had been a baker at a grocery store.

“That’s how we have all the canned stuff,” Lionel said, watching as night fell before us. “When the floods started, my sweet Marlene bought up everything she could at the grocery store. She kept telling me that she wanted me to be safe when it happened. Bless her heart, she died before everything got really terrible.”

And as the moon kissed the night sky, I felt a little more comfortable with him. His words weren’t made of malice or fear. They were kind, echoing a life that I’d never live as he had. Strangely, I was envious. I’d never have a wife or kids, and I’d probably never grow old enough to develop gray hair. I figured that eventually I’d die out here, have a stroke or a heart attack at thirty from rowing my kayak to death.

Lionel gazed up at the stars and slowly stood. “Are you sure you don’t want to come inside? The mosquitoes are terrible here. They’ll cart your ass all the way to Florida. You won’t have to worry about the mermaids.”

I chuckled to myself, and the old man smiled.

“I’m glad to know that you can still laugh.”

He shakily tried to get up, and his knees popped. “You’d think I was made of wood with all of these creaky bones.” He slapped his thighs as he pushed his body upward to stand. “Last offer. You are welcome to come inside.”

I glanced at the flooded backyard behind his house, and there was the tree. It was pressed against the house, clinging to the brick and wood. He was right; it would be a good place to hide my kayak.

I took a deep breath, and I slid the rope off of my ankle. Lionel saw the bruise where the rope continually tugged, and his face creased with worry. My kayak was my shackle, my prison, and my life source. Without it, I had nothing.

I cautiously paddled to the tree, nestling the kayak inside the branches before pulling myself out and shuffling to the roof. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and looked up at Lionel. He seemed glad that I’d chosen to stay.

I slipped on the slick roofing, and he grabbed my arm to steady me. Our eyes met, and I nervously accepted his help. And before I knew it, Lionel was leaning on me. He didn’t have much left in him. He was probably just as bony as me. Maybe more.

I pulled open the skylight, and Lionel went in first after I helped him down. He moved calmly, trying to be sure of his footing. He found what he was looking for in the dark, and he flicked on a lantern. Then, he gestured for me to come on.

I descended the small ladder he’d propped up against the skylight, and I peered inside his small little home. It was warm inside. He’d saved two old chairs from his living room, a mattress to sleep on, and a large stack of books. A few crochet blankets were folded in the corner, and a small stack of candles lay near the books. Pink cotton-candy insulation lay uncovered and floating in the water around us, molded and green.

“Well, this is it. It ain’t much, but it’s better than most.”

His attic was up high enough that the wood floor wasn’t submerged yet. It would take a few more inches before he’d get trouble.

“Take a seat,” he said, closing the skylight. “I’ve got some books and a puzzle that I’ve done so many times that I’ve memorized the pieces.”

Before he sat down, he walked to a plastic tote. “And here… take as much as you want.”

I hesitated to move.

He scoffed in amusement. “You’re already inside. If you were worried, you’re in far too deep now.”

I took a deep breath, and I walked toward him. Inside the tote lay can after can of food. Meat. Vegetables. Fruit. Soup. Water. It was anything and everything I could have thought of.

“Take some,” he said, patting my back.

My eyes were wider than beach balls as I gazed upon the vast assortment of food. I looked back at him in disbelief. “Thank you,” I whispered.

He didn’t acknowledge my first words. He didn’t make a big deal about it. Instead, he simply replied, “You’re welcome.”

He helped me pack some food into my bag, and he offered me his mattress. I shook my head.

“Suit yourself,” he replied, slowly hobbling toward it.

I picked a dry spot on his floor and pulled a crochet blanket over myself.

As I lay on my back, I listened to the soft trickle and slap of the water beneath us. I spoke softly to Lionel, “My name is Isaac.”

I couldn’t see his face, but I knew that he was smiling. “Nice to meet you, Isaac.”

I slept soundly that night until I heard a vicious noise coming from outside. It was a grinding noise, and immediately my eyes shot open. It was the sound of a plastic boat being dragged onto shingles.

“They’re here…” Lionel bolted up and shook me. “Get in the water!” he hissed.

I looked at the dark water and back at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“You listen to me, Isaac! I’m old. If I die, that’s fine. I’ve lived. You deserve a little more time.”

“No,” I said, grabbing my backpack. “Let me stay with you! I want to help… please.”

He shoved me before I could protest, and I splashed into the water. I bobbed to the surface, floating in the darkness. I wanted to yell, but my anger diminished as the skylight was torn open. I sank beneath the water, swimming underneath the attic floor to avoid being seen. I gently rose to the surface to breathe and looked between the cracks in the floorboards, seeing a group of men enter. I covered my mouth, stifling my horrified breaths.

My stomach fell out of my ass. It was the group of men that tried to kill me in the tree. I saw their wounds and burn scars. It was them. My heart hammered into my throat. I didn’t know that they were tailing me.

“You seen anyone come through here, old man!” one of the guys yelled, shoving Lionel to the ground.

He flopped onto the floor above me, spotting me through the cracks. Blood dripped from his eyebrow, seeping onto the wood above me. “I’ve seen no one…” Lionel growled, rolling over to look at them. “It’s just me.”

The men exchanged glances, knowing that he was lying.

“That’s a shame,” the leader of the group grumbled. “He got away from us a few weeks back. He’s got something we want… a nice little kayak. We know that he must’ve come through here… This neighborhood is one of the only places to sleep, and he only stops to sleep. You wouldn’t lie to us, would you?”

Lionel spat at them, gritting his bloodied teeth.

The men chuckled and grabbed him. Horrible punches filled the attic, and a sickening crunch followed. Lionel groaned in agony, but still, he wouldn’t back down. He continued to get up.

The leader of the group shook his head in annoyance, and the men swarmed onto Lionel together. They forced him to his knees, snapping one leg and bludgeoning the other with a bat.

The leader grabbed his neck, sliding his hands over his head. “Where is the boy?” he hissed, pulling Lionel’s head back by his hair.

Lionel simply laughed, choking on his blood. “You’ll never… find him.”

The leader snapped his neck in one swift movement, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Useless…” he mumbled.

Lionel’s crumpled body lay above me. His neck was twisted at an inhuman angle, eyes gazing through the cracks at me. We were nearly nose to nose, and I felt the last puff of breath leave him.

My stomach twisted into knots as I covered my mouth and nose. My fingernails dug into my cheeks, and tears of fire and rage burned down my cheeks.

“Come on… Take what we need. We’ll find that fucking kid… I want that kayak.”

With whoops and hollers, they pillaged the room, throwing Lionel’s personal items into the water and laughing hysterically as they tore apart the last pieces of his home. I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch. Their loud echoes of laughter sounded more and more like hyenas, eating through Lionel’s little life. They opened his cookie tin, chuckling to themselves as they found pictures of his family.

They took all of the food and left. Their plastic canoes scraped across the roof as they departed, leaving me in silence with Lionel’s body.

My heart stopped, and a quiet sob escaped me. I shoved my hand over my mouth to force myself to stop crying. I needed to get out of the water. I’d luckily not been noticed by something in the murky depths.

Unsuccessfully, I tried desperately to climb back onto the dry wood with Lionel’s body, but it was too far up. I didn’t have enough strength to pull up my water-logged clothes and backpack.

I looked around the attic, spotting a half-submerged window on the other side. I took a deep breath, realizing I needed to cross the darkness of the submerged attic. From where I was, it seemed like a much larger space to cross. The water was dark, nearly black. I knew that something was in there, but I had to take the gamble to get out. I’d have to risk meeting the rogue creature and just make it to the tree in one piece.

Slowly, I swam. Splashing attracted more than just the creatures in the water. It also attracted alligators, and I really didn’t want to meet one of those either.

When I reached the window, I jammed my elbow into it. The glass cracked, and I slammed my elbow into it again. The crack expanded, and I kicked it. It finally broke, and I slid through.

I was greeted by the soft light of the moon. Her heavenly face and soft glow looked farther away than it had ever been, but she was the only constant in my life. Maybe we knew each other in a past life. Maybe her craters were freckles, sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. But even she had turned her back on humanity, leaving us to our mundane existence and fading lives.

I spotted the tree, and I began to swim, moving steadily and without panic. I had to be calm. An alligator was pressed against the house, but it didn’t bother to attack. I wasn’t enticing enough.  

Then, I saw her glowing eyes. The creature in the water had spotted me. Only then did I begin to swim much faster. As it turns out, I didn’t want to die as much as I thought I did.

She darted toward me, ripping through the water at an incomprehensible speed. I grabbed my kayak right as I was yanked under by the creature. There was no time to scream, no time for a breath. I was simply snatched beneath the surface.

Her grip was like iron, pressed around my ankle and digging into my flesh. She flung me below her, and I gazed up at her as I floated. Her magnificent, green eyes were completely round. The long fin that propelled her through the water was longer than I had imagined. Her mouth was abnormally wide, concealing her daggered teeth within. She gnashed her teeth at me, and I flinched away, still unable to close my eyes. I wanted to see what creature was eating my world. I wanted to know what had come from the eighty percent unexplored ocean. I WANTED TO KNOW.

Her nose was pressed to her face and smushed. Fins sat on the side of her head, and gills traced down her neck. Her hair was long and braided with shells and moss tucked within.

Angrily, she opened her mouth to bite me, but she stopped.

Even though my lungs screamed for breath, I didn’t move. I was willing to accept death as Lionel had. However, the creature did not hurt me. She studied me before swimming away.

Fearfully, I swam for my life back to the surface, and I climbed into the limbs of the tree. Dripping and cold, I looked below me to see her patrolling. She was guarding me… or watching me. I wasn’t sure which.

Maybe… Maybe I wasn’t what she wanted at all.

Link to Part One: Part One
Link to Part Three: part three

After careful consideration and a desire for more food, I slowly paddled back to the house, where the old man waited patiently. I swallowed hard, feeling the dryness of my tongue and the craving for water. Maybe he had some to spare…

I wasn’t sure if he knew that I was slowly starving to death or if he’d just given me food out of the kindness of his heart. Regardless, I was grateful. Food was food, and I didn’t have any. I was to the point where I’d considered eating wood and sticks.

He opened the skylight. “Want more?”

I nodded, still too nervous to speak. Honestly, I didn’t really know if I could speak anymore. The last words I uttered were quiet mutterings, mumbles that one says when thinking. I doubt it even counted as speech.

He smiled and opened the skylight wider. “Why don’t you go hide your kayak on the other side of the roof? The branches of the big tree back there are thick and tall. No one will see it if you want to come inside.”

I shook my head. It didn’t matter what he said to me. I wasn’t leaving my damn kayak.

“Well, can I sit on the roof with you?” he asked, slowly climbing out.

He moved shakily over the roof, carefully placing his feet so he didn’t fall. His age was showing: arthritic knees and swollen joints. His fingers were crooked. I’d never noticed before. He moved slowly and gently to the edge of the roof where I floated in my kayak.

“I’d forgotten what it was like to have company. You don’t have to talk. My name is Lionel,” he said, extending a hand out to me.

My body lurched back instinctively, and my jaw tightened. It didn’t matter that we were both human. I’d seen our own kind rip people apart like monsters, and it was far scarier than seeing one of the beasts in the water do it. The creatures in the water only killed us to eat, but watching people do it for sport was much different.

I’d run into a tough group a few weeks back. They’d stumbled upon me as I slept in a tree, and I bolted into the water, kayak dragging behind me. They taunted and teased, but I saw their eyes. They all had the same empty and emotionless eyes. Whatever they’d experienced was something I’d never understand or want to. One of them was missing a hand. It was raggedly healed, a flap of flesh torn from the socket. Some of them were covered in burn scars, and others had scabby spots all over them. Some kind of fungus or disease, spreading between them like wildfire.

Lionel’s face softened at my reaction. It was the same sad expression that one would give an abused dog, a mixture of pity and compassion. He reached into the pocket of his flannel jacket and produced another can. He shakily placed it on the edge of the roof, and he sat down near me. He was close, but not close enough to grab me and drag me into his home to be butchered. I think he could sense my hesitance and fear. I’m sure it radiated off me, filling the air like smoke.

I swallowed again, and my teeth chattered. Anxiety boiled inside of me, writhing like worms in the sun. The burn to eat something… to chew something… was primal, leaking up from my throat without mercy.

He pulled a rusted can opener out of his jacket pocket. His misshapen knuckles looked painful, but still, he began to crank the can open. The withered paper on the can was yellow and green. The picture of a plump orange peach sat prominently on the front, ripe and bursting.

The can popped open, and my eyes widened at the colorful orange fruit floating within. The smell was intoxicating, filling my mind. Smell has memory. It holds something I can’t quite describe in the same way that I feel it. And you don’t realize how much you’d miss something so stupid. I never even liked peaches. My mom loved them, and she always made peach cobbler and ice cream in the summer. In fact, I can remember turning my nose up to it, but now, I’d rather die than not get a single taste of those sweet little morsels.

Enthralled by the can of peaches, I don’t remember if the old man spoke to me while he opened the can. My eyes were so fixated on the fruit that I barely remembered to breathe.

He slid the can to the edge of the roof, and I snatched it up. I dug my hand into the sticky sweetness. Tears dripped down my cheeks as I stuffed peach wedge after peach wedge into my mouth. They were so unbelievably good. It felt sinful to eat them.

I devoured them, tearing into the soft flesh with fervor. I didn’t bother chewing. Some of the slick wedges I swallowed whole, and some I stored in my cheeks, wanting to at least savor the sugar.

My mouth was full of them by the time the can was empty. I had eaten them so fast because I was scared that the old man would rip the can away, tear my fleeting second of joy from me as fast as I’d gotten it.

I chewed quickly as the salt from my tears dripped into my mouth and down my nose.

The old man began to cry as well. “I’m the last of my folks too.”

In annoyance, he shook his head ruefully, refusing to let the tears fall. “I’m glad I can share some of my food with you. I’d begun to lose a bit of myself in the silence.”

I swallowed a hunk of peaches and looked down at my fingers. I had forgotten how sticky fruit juice was, or the way that sugar left a thin residue on skin. The delicious, sticky sweetness made small gossamer fibers stretch between my fingertips as I pressed them together.

My heart shattered, remembering summer popsicles with my little brother, baseball practice with red energy drinks, and slushees from the gas station.

Memories swelled back into my body. I could see my mother’s eyes. She was smiling at me, hugging me after I’d failed my first test in trigonometry. She’d made sticky toffee brownies that clung to the roof of my mouth, telling me that I’d do better next time.

My stomach lurched, and I gagged, but I held the food down. I needed it and wanted it, but the taste of the peaches brought sadness.  

Lionel’s voice echoed back into my mind, ripping away the precious memories that ached through me. He pointed to the house closest to us. “Daughter lived there. She died two months back, I think. Not like I can give you a good answer. No calendar. Nothing to keep up with it.”

I looked up at him, wiping my cheeks and licking my fingers.

“West Nile Virus… I’m sure of it. Her house was full of mosquitoes. It was a terrible way to die. Found a mosquito net in the old neighbor’s attic. It felt evil to see it after losing my daughter to a mosquito-borne virus.”

“I’m sorry to ramble.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “It’s just been me and that damn mermaid for the last few weeks.”

I shook my head and raised my eyebrow at his mention of mermaids.

His eyebrows knit together. “If you don’t think they are mermaids, what do you think they are?” he asked with a smirk, wrinkles pulling his cheeks and crinkling his eyes.

He was daring me to answer, prying through my mind for a way to make me speak. Instead, I shrugged. I had my own theories, but they certainly weren’t the beautiful creatures from fairy tales. I didn’t know whether to call them mermaids or even sirens. I was beginning to think that they were something else. Something older… something that had been hiding from us for a long time.

My biology professor was a strange man. He was skinny and gaunt-looking. His rounded eyes and thin cheeks made him appear nearly skeletal. If the wind blew him, he might fly away with it. But his lust for knowledge and adventure was admirable. With wiry hands, he’d show us the wonders of the world, grinning as he explained the mysterious nature of the ocean. He never talked about mermaids or sirens, but something told me that he believed in them. After seeing my first creature when the floods started, I often thought about him.

Lionel talked to me for several hours as the sun began to set. He told me about his life, his children, his wife, and his pets. He was a janitor at the local college before he retired. His dog passed before the flood, and he keeps her dog tag in a cookie tin with his old driver’s license. And his wife had been a baker at a grocery store.

“That’s how we have all the canned stuff,” Lionel said, watching as night fell before us. “When the floods started, my sweet Marlene bought up everything she could at the grocery store. She kept telling me that she wanted me to be safe when it happened. Bless her heart, she died before everything got really terrible.”

And as the moon kissed the night sky, I felt a little more comfortable with him. His words weren’t made of malice or fear. They were kind, echoing a life that I’d never live as he had. Strangely, I was envious. I’d never have a wife or kids, and I’d probably never grow old enough to develop gray hair. I figured that eventually I’d die out here, have a stroke or a heart attack at thirty from rowing my kayak to death.

Lionel gazed up at the stars and slowly stood. “Are you sure you don’t want to come inside? The mosquitoes are terrible here. They’ll cart your ass all the way to Florida. You won’t have to worry about the mermaids.”

I chuckled to myself, and the old man smiled.

“I’m glad to know that you can still laugh.”

He shakily tried to get up, and his knees popped. “You’d think I was made of wood with all of these creaky bones.” He slapped his thighs as he pushed his body upward to stand. “Last offer. You are welcome to come inside.”

I glanced at the flooded backyard behind his house, and there was the tree. It was pressed against the house, clinging to the brick and wood. He was right; it would be a good place to hide my kayak.

I took a deep breath, and I slid the rope off of my ankle. Lionel saw the bruise where the rope continually tugged, and his face creased with worry. My kayak was my shackle, my prison, and my life source. Without it, I had nothing.

I cautiously paddled to the tree, nestling the kayak inside the branches before pulling myself out and shuffling to the roof. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and looked up at Lionel. He seemed glad that I’d chosen to stay.

I slipped on the slick roofing, and he grabbed my arm to steady me. Our eyes met, and I nervously accepted his help. And before I knew it, Lionel was leaning on me. He didn’t have much left in him. He was probably just as bony as me. Maybe more.

I pulled open the skylight, and Lionel went in first after I helped him down. He moved calmly, trying to be sure of his footing. He found what he was looking for in the dark, and he flicked on a lantern. Then, he gestured for me to come on.

I descended the small ladder he’d propped up against the skylight, and I peered inside his small little home. It was warm inside. He’d saved two old chairs from his living room, a mattress to sleep on, and a large stack of books. A few crochet blankets were folded in the corner, and a small stack of candles lay near the books. Pink cotton-candy insulation lay uncovered and floating in the water around us, molded and green.

“Well, this is it. It ain’t much, but it’s better than most.”

His attic was up high enough that the wood floor wasn’t submerged yet. It would take a few more inches before he’d get trouble.

“Take a seat,” he said, closing the skylight. “I’ve got some books and a puzzle that I’ve done so many times that I’ve memorized the pieces.”

Before he sat down, he walked to a plastic tote. “And here… take as much as you want.”

I hesitated to move.

He scoffed in amusement. “You’re already inside. If you were worried, you’re in far too deep now.”

I took a deep breath, and I walked toward him. Inside the tote lay can after can of food. Meat. Vegetables. Fruit. Soup. Water. It was anything and everything I could have thought of.

“Take some,” he said, patting my back.

My eyes were wider than beach balls as I gazed upon the vast assortment of food. I looked back at him in disbelief. “Thank you,” I whispered.

He didn’t acknowledge my first words. He didn’t make a big deal about it. Instead, he simply replied, “You’re welcome.”

He helped me pack some food into my bag, and he offered me his mattress. I shook my head.

“Suit yourself,” he replied, slowly hobbling toward it.

I picked a dry spot on his floor and pulled a crochet blanket over myself.

As I lay on my back, I listened to the soft trickle and slap of the water beneath us. I spoke softly to Lionel, “My name is Isaac.”

I couldn’t see his face, but I knew that he was smiling. “Nice to meet you, Isaac.”

I slept soundly that night until I heard a vicious noise coming from outside. It was a grinding noise, and immediately my eyes shot open. It was the sound of a plastic boat being dragged onto shingles.

“They’re here…” Lionel bolted up and shook me. “Get in the water!” he hissed.

I looked at the dark water and back at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“You listen to me, Isaac! I’m old. If I die, that’s fine. I’ve lived. You deserve a little more time.”

“No,” I said, grabbing my backpack. “Let me stay with you! I want to help… please.”

He shoved me before I could protest, and I splashed into the water. I bobbed to the surface, floating in the darkness. I wanted to yell, but my anger diminished as the skylight was torn open. I sank beneath the water, swimming underneath the attic floor to avoid being seen. I gently rose to the surface to breathe and looked between the cracks in the floorboards, seeing a group of men enter. I covered my mouth, stifling my horrified breaths.

My stomach fell out of my ass. It was the group of men that tried to kill me in the tree. I saw their wounds and burn scars. It was them. My heart hammered into my throat. I didn’t know that they were tailing me.

“You seen anyone come through here, old man!” one of the guys yelled, shoving Lionel to the ground.

He flopped onto the floor above me, spotting me through the cracks. Blood dripped from his eyebrow, seeping onto the wood above me. “I’ve seen no one…” Lionel growled, rolling over to look at them. “It’s just me.”

The men exchanged glances, knowing that he was lying.

“That’s a shame,” the leader of the group grumbled. “He got away from us a few weeks back. He’s got something we want… a nice little kayak. We know that he must’ve come through here… This neighborhood is one of the only places to sleep, and he only stops to sleep. You wouldn’t lie to us, would you?”

Lionel spat at them, gritting his bloodied teeth.

The men chuckled and grabbed him. Horrible punches filled the attic, and a sickening crunch followed. Lionel groaned in agony, but still, he wouldn’t back down. He continued to get up.

The leader of the group shook his head in annoyance, and the men swarmed onto Lionel together. They forced him to his knees, snapping one leg and bludgeoning the other with a bat.

The leader grabbed his neck, sliding his hands over his head. “Where is the boy?” he hissed, pulling Lionel’s head back by his hair.

Lionel simply laughed, choking on his blood. “You’ll never… find him.”

The leader snapped his neck in one swift movement, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Useless…” he mumbled.

Lionel’s crumpled body lay above me. His neck was twisted at an inhuman angle, eyes gazing through the cracks at me. We were nearly nose to nose, and I felt the last puff of breath leave him.

My stomach twisted into knots as I covered my mouth and nose. My fingernails dug into my cheeks, and tears of fire and rage burned down my face.

“Come on… Take what we need. We’ll find that fucking kid… I want that kayak.”

With whoops and hollers, they pillaged the room, throwing Lionel’s personal items into the water and laughing hysterically as they tore apart the last pieces of his home. I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch. Their loud echoes of laughter sounded more and more like hyenas, eating through Lionel’s little life. They opened his cookie tin, chuckling to themselves as they found pictures of his family.

They took all of the food and left. Their plastic canoes scraped across the roof as they departed, leaving me in silence with Lionel’s body.

My heart stopped, and a quiet sob escaped me. I shoved my hand over my mouth to force myself to stop crying. I needed to get out of the water. I’d luckily not been noticed by something in the murky depths.

Unsuccessfully, I tried desperately to climb back onto the dry wood with Lionel’s body, but it was too far up. I didn’t have enough strength to pull up my water-logged clothes and backpack.

I looked around the attic, spotting a half-submerged window on the other side. I took a deep breath, realizing I needed to cross the darkness of the submerged attic. From where I was, it seemed like a much larger space to cross. The water was dark, nearly black. I knew that something was in there, but I had to take the gamble to get out. I’d have to risk meeting the rogue creature and just make it to the tree in one piece.

Slowly, I swam. Splashing attracted more than just the creatures in the water. It also attracted alligators, and I really didn’t want to meet one of those either.

When I reached the window, I jammed my elbow into it. The glass cracked, and I slammed my elbow into it again. The crack expanded, and I kicked it. It finally broke, and I slid through.

I was greeted by the soft light of the moon. Her heavenly face and soft glow looked farther away than it had ever been, but she was the only constant in my life. Maybe we knew each other in a past life. Maybe her craters were freckles, sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. But even she had turned her back on humanity, leaving us to our mundane existence and fading lives.

I spotted the tree, and I began to swim, moving steadily and without panic. I had to be calm. An alligator was pressed against the house, but it didn’t bother to attack. I wasn’t enticing enough.  

Then, I saw her glowing eyes. The creature in the water had spotted me. Only then did I begin to swim much faster. As it turns out, I didn’t want to die as much as I thought I did.

She darted toward me, ripping through the water at an incomprehensible speed. I grabbed my kayak right as I was yanked under by the creature. There was no time to scream, no time for a breath. I was simply snatched beneath the surface.

Her grip was like iron, pressed around my ankle and digging into my flesh. She flung me below her, and I gazed up at her as I floated. Her magnificent, green eyes were completely round. The long fin that propelled her through the water was longer than I had imagined. Her mouth was abnormally wide, concealing her daggered teeth within. She gnashed her teeth at me, and I flinched away, still unable to close my eyes. I wanted to see what creature was eating my world. I wanted to know what had come from the eighty percent unexplored ocean. I WANTED TO KNOW.

Her nose was pressed to her face and smushed. Fins sat on the side of her head, and gills traced down her neck. Her hair was long and braided with shells and moss tucked within.

Angrily, she opened her mouth to bite me, but she stopped.

Even though my lungs screamed for breath, I didn’t move. I was willing to accept death as Lionel had. However, the creature did not hurt me. She studied me before swimming away.

Fearfully, I swam for my life back to the surface, and I climbed into the limbs of the tree. Dripping and cold, I looked below me to see her patrolling. She was guarding me… or watching me. I wasn’t sure which.

Maybe… Maybe I wasn’t what she wanted at all.

Link to Part One: Part One

After careful consideration and a desire for more food, I slowly paddled back to the house, where the old man waited patiently. I swallowed hard, feeling the dryness of my tongue and the craving for water. Maybe he had some to spare…

I wasn’t sure if he knew that I was slowly starving to death or if he’d just given me food out of the kindness of his heart. Regardless, I was grateful. Food was food, and I didn’t have any. I was to the point where I’d considered eating wood and sticks.

He opened the skylight. “Want more?”

I nodded, still too nervous to speak. Honestly, I didn’t really know if I could speak anymore. The last words I uttered were quiet mutterings, mumbles that one says when thinking. I doubt it even counted as speech.

He smiled and opened the skylight wider. “Why don’t you go hide your kayak on the other side of the roof? The branches of the big tree back there are thick and tall. No one will see it if you want to come inside.”

I shook my head. It didn’t matter what he said to me. I wasn’t leaving my damn kayak.

“Well, can I sit on the roof with you?” he asked, slowly climbing out.

He moved shakily over the roof, carefully placing his feet so he didn’t fall. His age was showing: arthritic knees and swollen joints. His fingers were crooked. I’d never noticed before. He moved slowly and gently to the edge of the roof where I floated in my kayak.

“I’d forgotten what it was like to have company. You don’t have to talk. My name is Lionel,” he said, extending a hand out to me.

My body lurched back instinctively, and my jaw tightened. It didn’t matter that we were both human. I’d seen our own kind rip people apart like monsters, and it was far scarier than seeing one of the beasts in the water do it. The creatures in the water only killed us to eat, but watching people do it for sport was much different.

I’d run into a tough group a few weeks back. They’d stumbled upon me as I slept in a tree, and I bolted into the water, kayak dragging behind me. They taunted and teased, but I saw their eyes. They all had the same empty and emotionless eyes. Whatever they’d experienced was something I’d never understand or want to. One of them was missing a hand. It was raggedly healed, a flap of flesh torn from the socket. Some of them were covered in burn scars, and others had scabby spots all over them. Some kind of fungus or disease, spreading between them like wildfire.

Lionel’s face softened at my reaction. It was the same sad expression that one would give an abused dog, a mixture of pity and compassion. He reached into the pocket of his flannel jacket and produced another can. He shakily placed it on the edge of the roof, and he sat down near me. He was close, but not close enough to grab me and drag me into his home to be butchered. I think he could sense my hesitance and fear. I’m sure it radiated off me, filling the air like smoke.

I swallowed again, and my teeth chattered. Anxiety boiled inside of me, writhing like worms in the sun. The burn to eat something… to chew something… was primal, leaking up from my throat without mercy.

He pulled a rusted can opener out of his jacket pocket. His misshapen knuckles looked painful, but still, he began to crank the can open. The withered paper on the can was yellow and green. The picture of a plump orange peach sat prominently on the front, ripe and bursting.

The can popped open, and my eyes widened at the colorful orange fruit floating within. The smell was intoxicating, filling my mind. Smell has memory. It holds something I can’t quite describe in the same way that I feel it. And you don’t realize how much you’d miss something so stupid. I never even liked peaches. My mom loved them, and she always made peach cobbler and ice cream in the summer. In fact, I can remember turning my nose up to it, but now, I’d rather die than not get a single taste of those sweet little morsels.

Enthralled by the can of peaches, I don’t remember if the old man spoke to me while he opened the can. My eyes were so fixated on the fruit that I barely remembered to breathe.

He slid the can to the edge of the roof, and I snatched it up. I dug my hand into the sticky sweetness. Tears dripped down my cheeks as I stuffed peach wedge after peach wedge into my mouth. They were so unbelievably good. It felt sinful to eat them.

I devoured them, tearing into the soft flesh with fervor. I didn’t bother chewing. Some of the slick wedges I swallowed whole, and some I stored in my cheeks, wanting to at least savor the sugar.

My mouth was full of them by the time the can was empty. I had eaten them so fast because I was scared that the old man would rip the can away, tear my fleeting second of joy from me as fast as I’d gotten it.

I chewed quickly as the salt from my tears dripped into my mouth and down my nose.

The old man began to cry as well. “I’m the last of my folks too.”

In annoyance, he shook his head ruefully, refusing to let the tears fall. “I’m glad I can share some of my food with you. I’d begun to lose a bit of myself in the silence.”

I swallowed a hunk of peaches and looked down at my fingers. I had forgotten how sticky fruit juice was, or the way that sugar left a thin residue on skin. The delicious, sticky sweetness made small gossamer fibers stretch between my fingertips as I pressed them together.

My heart shattered, remembering summer popsicles with my little brother, baseball practice with red energy drinks, and slushees from the gas station.

Memories swelled back into my body. I could see my mother’s eyes. She was smiling at me, hugging me after I’d failed my first test in trigonometry. She’d made sticky toffee brownies that clung to the roof of my mouth, telling me that I’d do better next time.

My stomach lurched, and I gagged, but I held the food down. I needed it and wanted it, but the taste of the peaches brought sadness.  

Lionel’s voice echoed back into my mind, ripping away the precious memories that ached through me. He pointed to the house closest to us. “Daughter lived there. She died two months back, I think. Not like I can give you a good answer. No calendar. Nothing to keep up with it.”

I looked up at him, wiping my cheeks and licking my fingers.

“West Nile Virus… I’m sure of it. Her house was full of mosquitoes. It was a terrible way to die. Found a mosquito net in the old neighbor’s attic. It felt evil to see it after losing my daughter to a mosquito-borne virus.”

“I’m sorry to ramble.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “It’s just been me and that damn mermaid for the last few weeks.”

I shook my head and raised my eyebrow at his mention of mermaids.

His eyebrows knit together. “If you don’t think they are mermaids, what do you think they are?” he asked with a smirk, wrinkles pulling his cheeks and crinkling his eyes.

He was daring me to answer, prying through my mind for a way to make me speak. Instead, I shrugged. I had my own theories, but they certainly weren’t the beautiful creatures from fairy tales. I didn’t know whether to call them mermaids or even sirens. I was beginning to think that they were something else. Something older… something that had been hiding from us for a long time.

My biology professor was a strange man. He was skinny and gaunt-looking. His rounded eyes and thin cheeks made him appear nearly skeletal. If the wind blew him, he might fly away with it. But his lust for knowledge and adventure was admirable. With wiry hands, he’d show us the wonders of the world, grinning as he explained the mysterious nature of the ocean. He never talked about mermaids or sirens, but something told me that he believed in them. After seeing my first creature when the floods started, I often thought about him.

Lionel talked to me for several hours as the sun began to set. He told me about his life, his children, his wife, and his pets. He was a janitor at the local college before he retired. His dog passed before the flood, and he keeps her dog tag in a cookie tin with his old driver’s license. And his wife had been a baker at a grocery store.

“That’s how we have all the canned stuff,” Lionel said, watching as night fell before us. “When the floods started, my sweet Marlene bought up everything she could at the grocery store. She kept telling me that she wanted me to be safe when it happened. Bless her heart, she died before everything got really terrible.”

And as the moon kissed the night sky, I felt a little more comfortable with him. His words weren’t made of malice or fear. They were kind, echoing a life that I’d never live as he had. Strangely, I was envious. I’d never have a wife or kids, and I’d probably never grow old enough to develop gray hair. I figured that eventually I’d die out here, have a stroke or a heart attack at thirty from rowing my kayak to death.

Lionel gazed up at the stars and slowly stood. “Are you sure you don’t want to come inside? The mosquitoes are terrible here. They’ll cart your ass all the way to Florida. You won’t have to worry about the mermaids.”

I chuckled to myself, and the old man smiled.

“I’m glad to know that you can still laugh.”

He shakily tried to get up, and his knees popped. “You’d think I was made of wood with all of these creaky bones.” He slapped his thighs as he pushed his body upward to stand. “Last offer. You are welcome to come inside.”

I glanced at the flooded backyard behind his house, and there was the tree. It was pressed against the house, clinging to the brick and wood. He was right; it would be a good place to hide my kayak.

I took a deep breath, and I slid the rope off of my ankle. Lionel saw the bruise where the rope continually tugged, and his face creased with worry. My kayak was my shackle, my prison, and my life source. Without it, I had nothing.

I cautiously paddled to the tree, nestling the kayak inside the branches before pulling myself out and shuffling to the roof. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and looked up at Lionel. He seemed glad that I’d chosen to stay.

I slipped on the slick roofing, and he grabbed my arm to steady me. Our eyes met, and I nervously accepted his help. And before I knew it, Lionel was leaning on me. He didn’t have much left in him. He was probably just as bony as me. Maybe more.

I pulled open the skylight, and Lionel went in first after I helped him down. He moved calmly, trying to be sure of his footing. He found what he was looking for in the dark, and he flicked on a lantern. Then, he gestured for me to come on.

I descended the small ladder he’d propped up against the skylight, and I peered inside his small little home. It was warm inside. He’d saved two old chairs from his living room, a mattress to sleep on, and a large stack of books. A few crochet blankets were folded in the corner, and a small stack of candles lay near the books. Pink cotton-candy insulation lay uncovered and floating in the water around us, molded and green.

“Well, this is it. It ain’t much, but it’s better than most.”

His attic was up high enough that the wood floor wasn’t submerged yet. It would take a few more inches before he’d get trouble.

“Take a seat,” he said, closing the skylight. “I’ve got some books and a puzzle that I’ve done so many times that I’ve memorized the pieces.”

Before he sat down, he walked to a plastic tote. “And here… take as much as you want.”

I hesitated to move.

He scoffed in amusement. “You’re already inside. If you were worried, you’re in far too deep now.”

I took a deep breath, and I walked toward him. Inside the tote lay can after can of food. Meat. Vegetables. Fruit. Soup. Water. It was anything and everything I could have thought of.

“Take some,” he said, patting my back.

My eyes were wider than beach balls as I gazed upon the vast assortment of food. I looked back at him in disbelief. “Thank you,” I whispered.

He didn’t acknowledge my first words. He didn’t make a big deal about it. Instead, he simply replied, “You’re welcome.”

He helped me pack some food into my bag, and he offered me his mattress. I shook my head.

“Suit yourself,” he replied, slowly hobbling toward it.

I picked a dry spot on his floor and pulled a crochet blanket over myself.

As I lay on my back, I listened to the soft trickle and slap of the water beneath us. I spoke softly to Lionel, “My name is Isaac.”

I couldn’t see his face, but I knew that he was smiling. “Nice to meet you, Isaac.”

I slept soundly that night until I heard a vicious noise coming from outside. It was a grinding noise, and immediately my eyes shot open. It was the sound of a plastic boat being dragged onto shingles.

“They’re here…” Lionel bolted up and shook me. “Get in the water!” he hissed.

I looked at the dark water and back at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“You listen to me, Isaac! I’m old. If I die, that’s fine. I’ve lived. You deserve a little more time.”

“No,” I said, grabbing my backpack. “Let me stay with you! I want to help… please.”

He shoved me before I could protest, and I splashed into the water. I bobbed to the surface, floating in the darkness. I wanted to yell, but my anger diminished as the skylight was torn open. I sank beneath the water, swimming underneath the attic floor to avoid being seen. I gently rose to the surface to breathe and looked between the cracks in the floorboards, seeing a group of men enter. I covered my mouth, stifling my horrified breaths.

My stomach fell out of my ass. It was the group of men that tried to kill me in the tree. I saw their wounds and burn scars. It was them. My heart hammered into my throat. I didn’t know that they were tailing me.

“You seen anyone come through here, old man!” one of the guys yelled, shoving Lionel to the ground.

He flopped onto the floor above me, spotting me through the cracks. Blood dripped from his eyebrow, seeping onto the wood above me. “I’ve seen no one…” Lionel growled, rolling over to look at them. “It’s just me.”

The men exchanged glances, knowing that he was lying.

“That’s a shame,” the leader of the group grumbled. “He got away from us a few weeks back. He’s got something we want… a nice little kayak. We know that he must’ve come through here… This neighborhood is one of the only places to sleep, and he only stops to sleep. You wouldn’t lie to us, would you?”

Lionel spat at them, gritting his bloodied teeth.

The men chuckled and grabbed him. Horrible punches filled the attic, and a sickening crunch followed. Lionel groaned in agony, but still, he wouldn’t back down. He continued to get up.

The leader of the group shook his head in annoyance, and the men swarmed onto Lionel together. They forced him to his knees, snapping one leg and bludgeoning the other with a bat.

The leader grabbed his neck, sliding his hands over his head. “Where is the boy?” he hissed, pulling Lionel’s head back by his hair.

Lionel simply laughed, choking on his blood. “You’ll never… find him.”

The leader snapped his neck in one swift movement, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Useless…” he mumbled.

Lionel’s crumpled body lay above me. His neck was twisted at an inhuman angle, eyes gazing through the cracks at me. We were nearly nose to nose, and I felt the last puff of breath leave him.

My stomach twisted into knots as I covered my mouth and nose. My fingernails dug into my cheeks, and tears of fire and rage burned down my cheeks.

“Come on… Take what we need. We’ll find that fucking kid… I want that kayak.”

With whoops and hollers, they pillaged the room, throwing Lionel’s personal items into the water and laughing hysterically as they tore apart the last pieces of his home. I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch. Their loud echoes of laughter sounded more and more like hyenas, eating through Lionel’s little life. They opened his cookie tin, chuckling to themselves as they found pictures of his family.

They took all of the food and left. Their plastic canoes scraped across the roof as they departed, leaving me in silence with Lionel’s body.

My heart stopped, and a quiet sob escaped me. I shoved my hand over my mouth to force myself to stop crying. I needed to get out of the water. I’d luckily not been noticed by something in the murky depths.

Unsuccessfully, I tried desperately to climb back onto the dry wood with Lionel’s body, but it was too far up. I didn’t have enough strength to pull up my water-logged clothes and backpack.

I looked around the attic, spotting a half-submerged window on the other side. I took a deep breath, realizing I needed to cross the darkness of the submerged attic. From where I was, it seemed like a much larger space to cross. The water was dark, nearly black. I knew that something was in there, but I had to take the gamble to get out. I’d have to risk meeting the rogue creature and just make it to the tree in one piece.

Slowly, I swam. Splashing attracted more than just the creatures in the water. It also attracted alligators, and I really didn’t want to meet one of those either.

When I reached the window, I jammed my elbow into it. The glass cracked, and I slammed my elbow into it again. The crack expanded, and I kicked it. It finally broke, and I slid through.

I was greeted by the soft light of the moon. Her heavenly face and soft glow looked farther away than it had ever been, but she was the only constant in my life. Maybe we knew each other in a past life. Maybe her craters were freckles, sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. But even she had turned her back on humanity, leaving us to our mundane existence and fading lives.

I spotted the tree, and I began to swim, moving steadily and without panic. I had to be calm. An alligator was pressed against the house, but it didn’t bother to attack. I wasn’t enticing enough.  

Then, I saw her glowing eyes. The creature in the water had spotted me. Only then did I begin to swim much faster. As it turns out, I didn’t want to die as much as I thought I did.

She darted toward me, ripping through the water at an incomprehensible speed. I grabbed my kayak right as I was yanked under by the creature. There was no time to scream, no time for a breath. I was simply snatched beneath the surface.

Her grip was like iron, pressed around my ankle and digging into my flesh. She flung me below her, and I gazed up at her as I floated. Her magnificent, green eyes were completely round. The long fin that propelled her through the water was longer than I had imagined. Her mouth was abnormally wide, concealing her daggered teeth within. She gnashed her teeth at me, and I flinched away, still unable to close my eyes. I wanted to see what creature was eating my world. I wanted to know what had come from the eighty percent unexplored ocean. I WANTED TO KNOW.

Her nose was pressed to her face and smushed. Fins sat on the side of her head, and gills traced down her neck. Her hair was long and braided with shells and moss tucked within.

Angrily, she opened her mouth to bite me, but she stopped.

Even though my lungs screamed for breath, I didn’t move. I was willing to accept death as Lionel had. However, the creature did not hurt me. She studied me before swimming away.

Fearfully, I swam for my life back to the surface, and I climbed into the limbs of the tree. Dripping and cold, I looked below me to see her patrolling. She was guarding me… or watching me. I wasn’t sure which.

Maybe… Maybe I wasn’t what she wanted at all.

It started with rain... lots and lots of rain.

Then the floods came. The sky wept viciously, and it poured for months. The waters killed the crops, drowned entire towns and cities. So many people died, and that was just the beginning.

Some said it was an act of God, punishment for the sins we wrought upon his most beloved creation. Others said that it was the Earth’s vengeance, rage from our pillaging, poisoning, and pollution. I didn’t think it was either. I think it’s just the end of man, and the beginning for something else.

No one knew what they were. Beautiful, slender creatures with eyes like emeralds, glowing beneath the murky water. We never saw their full form, and they never came close enough to breach the surface. Moving quickly, agile, and inhuman, we never even saw them until it was too late. They didn’t speak or interact with us, but I was smart enough to know they weren’t our friends.

People rallied to their aid, begging them to help humanity and praying to them. Some believed that they were gods from the olden age, returning to claim the land that was once their home. Yet, wants and wishes can often be blurred when fear and terror clutch tightly to our throats. And the world was desperate. Our homes were sinking beneath the water, brick and cement fading beneath the waves. Our lives were gobbled up.

The creatures watched us, learning how we reacted to the catastrophic events around us. They watched us attack each other for food and clean water. They watched us burn… and grow violent.

Even still, they were right about us from the beginning. Man has always destroyed itself. Cain killed Abel with a rock. The first blood of man poured into the ground, soaking the soil with pain and his brother’s rageful pride. The creatures only provided a small push toward the edge.

My name is Isaac, and I’m one of the last humans left.

My day begins quietly. I’m usually awoken by the soft sound of dripping or the groan of the building that I’ve been hiding in. I move every day, seeking shelter anywhere I can. I’ve slept in trees, buildings nearly submerged, and on rooftops. I’ll sleep anywhere that isn’t completely underwater.

Once I wake up, I start moving again.

Rogue groups of the last humans aren’t friendly, and some have grown cannibalistic. They fight over resources, dry land if they find it, and anything that can be traded. I’ve managed to stay alive this long by the skin of my teeth. There are two rules in this world now. Never go into the water and never stop moving.

Before the rain, the floods, and the creatures, I was a sophomore in college. I lived at home with my mom, dad, and little brother. My life was good. I liked to read, treasuring the written word. I might’ve been a writer in another life, a journalist, or an English teacher. I was a hiker in my free time. I loved nature. I loved her wild tendrils of leaves and vines, her certainty and iron fist. I don’t know if I love her anymore. She took a lot from me.

I’m the last one in my family, and I can’t remember what they look like anymore. Terror and survival ripped them from me, leaving a hollow shell where a soul once resided.

Sometimes, I think a part of me went with them. The good part of me. The part of me that loved to read. The rest remains, barely clinging to life anymore.

Hunger sometimes wakes me up. The bitter ache of a shrinking stomach is indescribable. You consider eating dirt, believing it’ll taste like crushed cookies. The mind can inflict terrible atrocities when starvation clings to your bones, withering the muscle and organs within.

I forced my body up, knowing that if I didn’t move, someone would find me. The incessant dripping around me had begun to sound like a clock ticking as I rolled onto my side. The damp wood where I slept in a stranger’s attic was nearly decayed. I wouldn’t be able to come back here. This would be the last time I could rest here for the night.

Empty spiderwebs stretched above me. A few boxes of Christmas decorations and clothes sat forlorn, abandoned, and forgotten. It was the last remnant of the family that once resided here, and slowly, it too would be consumed by the water. It wouldn’t be much longer now.

I stretched, reaching above my head and kicking out my legs. The rope attached to my kayak jerked my leg back into place, and I winced.

I had tied my kayak to my leg like my father taught me before he died. In his opinion, it was better to be dragged into the water with your kayak than lose it. This polished piece of wood was my only mode of transportation; I was keenly aware that it helped me escape detection and increased my chances of survival.

I needed it, or I’d die.

My father made my kayak, carefully carved with speed and sturdiness in mind. He and I had planned to use it at the local river. It was his passion project, building kayaks as his father had taught him. I would’ve learned how to do it too. He would’ve taught my brother as well.

I walked to the untouched boxes and began to rummage through them. I found some wire, batteries, decorative rope for a Christmas tree, which I could use for anything, and, sitting at the bottom in pristine condition, a flashlight. I jerked the flashlight out and flicked it on. I nearly cried upon seeing the beam of light. I quickly turned it off, not wanting to waste the light.

I shoved my goodies into my backpack and pulled the kayak closer to me. I got inside, tucking my backpack between my legs and setting off through the small space I’d squeezed my kayak into last night.

It was early morning, misty and faceless. I hadn’t seen the sun in months, and I doubt it wanted to see what had become of its precious planet. It would’ve been so disappointed.

I could hardly see in the foggy morning. I vaguely made out the tops of the trees. They appeared as bushes atop the water, barely growing. Some were dormant, patiently waiting for the sun’s return as if winter had befallen them, and others were dead. Logs floated aimlessly, and occasionally, a crate or a box would drift by. A few alligators patrolled the still water, reflective eyes hoping I’d fall in. It was all their land now. I was the stranger passing through, but part of me knew that the Earth always belonged to its creatures. Humans weren’t necessarily the owners of anything. We were borrowers, taking what we could to build what we needed.

Now… We can’t even borrow.

My wooden paddle cut through the still water, sending concentric rings in all directions. I disturbed the peace, silence, and solemn slumber of the water. I could only pray that it would allow me passage through its insidious and drenched realm.

I paddled quietly, moving without thinking.

A body floated beside me, face down. I slowed my pace to look at it. The lump of rot and maggots was caught in the branches of a tree. The skin was shredded, purple-tinged and gray. A putrid mix of decay and sulfur lingered in the air around it.

I thought maybe it was a victim of the flood, but then it bobbed to the side as the ripple of my kayak moved it. Bite marks ripped through the muscles and tendons. The jagged holes where flesh should be were akin to the bites of a shark, but I knew what monstrosity had made them. It was the same creature that would tear me to bits if I so much as placed a toe into the water.

I scrunched my nose and headed onward. I paddled each day until sunset. I never stopped. I never took a break. I knew that I had to keep moving; I knew that I had to keep going.

A loud whomp broke my mechanical movement, snapping me back into reality. I looked over the side of my kayak, seeing a cement sign beneath me where the entrance to a neighborhood once greeted its occupants.

I sighed, steadily moving my torso in an attempt to get myself unstuck without harming my kayak. After a few more unsuccessful movements, I sat back in anguish and annoyance.

I looked back at the place I had come from, seeing the rooftops now. The neighborhood that was once teeming with families and laughter was gone. Now only empty shells and attics remain, and soon, those too will be gone. The water was quickly swallowing the last remainder of humanity, consuming the slowest, oldest, and sick first.

The sight of the flooded neighborhood should have frightened me or made me nervous, but it did nothing. I had grown calloused and numb, broken by the terrors of this new world.

I tried one last time to free myself, and my kayak finally slipped off the cement. I shrugged, placing my paddle back into the water; however, I froze as I saw a pair of glowing green eyes beneath me.

Now, the creatures moving below me did frighten me. I knew what they were capable of.

The creature stared at me as I slid my paddle out of the water. The breath caught in my throat, and my heart hammered into my chest.

It gently swam under me, staring with watchful eyes. Its body scraped against the bottom, rocking me from side to side.

Please leave. Please…

My thoughts were screaming inside of me, teeming with ways to escape, but I couldn’t move. The creatures beneath the water were fickle, unfeeling, and mysterious.

When they first began to attack humans, no one really noticed. There were bodies everywhere from the floods, from the broken dams, from the failed levees. No one noticed that the creatures within the water had developed a taste for our blood.

The creature below me ran its long, taloned finger down the side of my kayak, taunting me. My breath grew quiet. It was surely going to kill me, but instead, it slowly lifted a knife out of the water, pushing it onto the top of my kayak.

I had never seen the creatures so much as place a fin out of the water. The skin was speckled with earthen tones of brown, green, and black. Its talons were curved, perfect for maiming and clawing. A slit sat beneath the bottom of its palm where a long barb would emerge. Its fingers were webbed, knit together by thin, stretchy pieces of wrinkled skin.

The knife clattered into my lap as the creature knocked into the kayak. Then, it reached up once more, and it grabbed my hand. My fingers trembled, and my body shook with adrenaline and fear. Panic coursed through my very veins, vibrating beneath the skin as it hummed within me.

The wet and coarse palm of the creature was as cold as ice. The skin felt slick against mine, difficult to grasp.

Its eyes were getting closer to the surface.

Every fiber of my being squirmed; I nearly forgot to breathe. It was coming to me… It was coming to the surface.

A gunshot rang through the quiet, and I looked up to see an old man standing on his roof, gun in hand. It was a warning shot, but the creature didn’t need to be warned again. It disappeared beneath the water, racing into the somber depths. The old man lowered the gun, taking a deep breath in relief.

He and I gazed at each other, silently absorbing the features of another human. He was the first living person that I had encountered in months.

His eyes were light blue, folded beneath wrinkles and gray hair. His jaw hung to the side, shocked to see another human as well. Age spots rested upon his hands as he clutched tightly to the gun. He swallowed hard, unable to speak at first.

Breathlessly, I stared, unsure if he was a friend or a foe. My fingernails dug into my paddle. Every muscle twitched in anticipation, preparing to paddle for my life. I would make a good meal. He could salt me and pickle me, store me in a jar. I’d give him sustenance, and he’d free me from this place. A terrible trade, but at least I’d be with my family.

He clenched his jaw before speaking. “That one is different,” he said. “It’s all alone. No pod like the others. It’s been hanging around my house. I don’t know if it means harm or it’s just curious.”

I didn’t reply. My mouth was frozen in place, lips quivering as they struggled to move. I couldn’t remember the last time I had spoken or heard my own voice.

“You can come inside if you want. I have some food and fresh water that I collect. It isn’t much, but you’re the first human I’ve seen in several months. I was starting to think I was the last.”

I still didn’t answer. I had learned my lesson about strangers after nearly being eaten by them.

He wet his lips, considering his next words cautiously. “Listen, I’m going to put some food on the roof. You don’t have to come inside. I’ll leave you alone.”

He hobbled to a skylight in his roof, pulled it open, and disappeared inside. He returned a moment later with a single can of tuna.

“It ain’t much, but it’s all I’ve got.”

My mouth watered, and my stomach grumbled. I hadn’t eaten in two days.

He gently placed the can on the farthest end of the roof where I could easily slip by on my kayak and get it. Slowly, he put his hands up in surrender. He limped back to the skylight and climbed back inside.

I sat quietly in my kayak for a moment, pondering the can of tuna. My stomach ached, and I went against every ounce of my best judgment. I cut through the water swiftly to reach that stupid can. I ripped it off the roof, tore it open, and consumed it with my fingers. I dug into the can like an animal, unable to stop long enough to chew. I simply shoveled it down, swallowing without thinking. I barely tasted it.

The old man peered at me through the skylight, smiling to himself.

After satiating my appetite for the time being, I nodded to the man.

He nodded back, grateful I didn’t decide to kill him like I feared he’d kill me.

I paddled onward, but I stopped, turning back to look at the old man’s house. Maybe I could stay for one day more. Just one.

It started with rain... lots and lots of rain.

Then the floods came. The sky wept viciously, and it poured for months. The waters killed the crops, drowned entire towns and cities. So many people died, and that was just the beginning.

Some said it was an act of God, punishment for the sins we wrought upon his most beloved creation. Others said that it was the Earth’s vengeance, rage from our pillaging, poisoning, and pollution. I didn’t think it was either. I think it’s just the end of man, and the beginning for something else.

No one knew what they were. Beautiful, slender creatures with eyes like emeralds, glowing beneath the murky water. We never saw their full form, and they never came close enough to breach the surface. Moving quickly, agile, and inhuman, we never even saw them until it was too late. They didn’t speak or interact with us, but I was smart enough to know they weren’t our friends.

People rallied to their aid, begging them to help humanity and praying to them. Some believed that they were gods from the olden age, returning to claim the land that was once their home. Yet, wants and wishes can often be blurred when fear and terror clutch tightly to our throats. And the world was desperate. Our homes were sinking beneath the water, brick and cement fading beneath the waves. Our lives were gobbled up.

The creatures watched us, learning how we reacted to the catastrophic events around us. They watched us attack each other for food and clean water. They watched us burn… and grow violent.

Even still, they were right about us from the beginning. Man has always destroyed itself. Cain killed Abel with a rock. The first blood of man poured into the ground, soaking the soil with pain and his brother’s rageful pride. The creatures only provided a small push toward the edge.

My name is Isaac, and I’m one of the last humans left.

My day begins quietly. I’m usually awoken by the soft sound of dripping or the groan of the building that I’ve been hiding in. I move every day, seeking shelter anywhere I can. I’ve slept in trees, buildings nearly submerged, and on rooftops. I’ll sleep anywhere that isn’t completely underwater.

Once I wake up, I start moving again.

Rogue groups of the last humans aren’t friendly, and some have grown cannibalistic. They fight over resources, dry land if they find it, and anything that can be traded. I’ve managed to stay alive this long by the skin of my teeth. There are two rules in this world now. Never go into the water and never stop moving.

Before the rain, the floods, and the creatures, I was a sophomore in college. I lived at home with my mom, dad, and little brother. My life was good. I liked to read, treasuring the written word. I might’ve been a writer in another life, a journalist, or an English teacher. I was a hiker in my free time. I loved nature. I loved her wild tendrils of leaves and vines, her certainty and iron fist. I don’t know if I love her anymore. She took a lot from me.

I’m the last one in my family, and I can’t remember what they look like anymore. Terror and survival ripped them from me, leaving a hollow shell where a soul once resided.

Sometimes, I think a part of me went with them. The good part of me. The part of me that loved to read. The rest remains, barely clinging to life anymore.

Hunger sometimes wakes me up. The bitter ache of a shrinking stomach is indescribable. You consider eating dirt, believing it’ll taste like crushed cookies. The mind can inflict terrible atrocities when starvation clings to your bones, withering the muscle and organs within.

I forced my body up, knowing that if I didn’t move, someone would find me. The incessant dripping around me had begun to sound like a clock ticking as I rolled onto my side. The damp wood where I slept in a stranger’s attic was nearly decayed. I wouldn’t be able to come back here. This would be the last time I could rest here for the night.

Empty spiderwebs stretched above me. A few boxes of Christmas decorations and clothes sat forlorn, abandoned, and forgotten. It was the last remnant of the family that once resided here, and slowly, it too would be consumed by the water. It wouldn’t be much longer now.

I stretched, reaching above my head and kicking out my legs. The rope attached to my kayak jerked my leg back into place, and I winced.

I had tied my kayak to my leg like my father taught me before he died. In his opinion, it was better to be dragged into the water with your kayak than lose it. This polished piece of wood was my only mode of transportation; I was keenly aware that it helped me escape detection and increased my chances of survival.

I needed it, or I’d die.

My father made my kayak, carefully carved with speed and sturdiness in mind. He and I had planned to use it at the local river. It was his passion project, building kayaks as his father had taught him. I would’ve learned how to do it too. He would’ve taught my brother as well.

I walked to the untouched boxes and began to rummage through them. I found some wire, batteries, decorative rope for a Christmas tree, which I could use for anything, and, sitting at the bottom in pristine condition, a flashlight. I jerked the flashlight out and flicked it on. I nearly cried upon seeing the beam of light. I quickly turned it off, not wanting to waste the light.

I shoved my goodies into my backpack and pulled the kayak closer to me. I got inside, tucking my backpack between my legs and setting off through the small space I’d squeezed my kayak into last night.

It was early morning, misty and faceless. I hadn’t seen the sun in months, and I doubt it wanted to see what had become of its precious planet. It would’ve been so disappointed.

I could hardly see in the foggy morning. I vaguely made out the tops of the trees. They appeared as bushes atop the water, barely growing. Some were dormant, patiently waiting for the sun’s return as if winter had befallen them, and others were dead. Logs floated aimlessly, and occasionally, a crate or a box would drift by. A few alligators patrolled the still water, reflective eyes hoping I’d fall in. It was all their land now. I was the stranger passing through, but part of me knew that the Earth always belonged to its creatures. Humans weren’t necessarily the owners of anything. We were borrowers, taking what we could to build what we needed.

Now… We can’t even borrow.

My wooden paddle cut through the still water, sending concentric rings in all directions. I disturbed the peace, silence, and solemn slumber of the water. I could only pray that it would allow me passage through its insidious and drenched realm.

I paddled quietly, moving without thinking.

A body floated beside me, face down. I slowed my pace to look at it. The lump of rot and maggots was caught in the branches of a tree. The skin was shredded, purple-tinged and gray. A putrid mix of decay and sulfur lingered in the air around it.

I thought maybe it was a victim of the flood, but then it bobbed to the side as the ripple of my kayak moved it. Bite marks ripped through the muscles and tendons. The jagged holes where flesh should be were akin to the bites of a shark, but I knew what monstrosity had made them. It was the same creature that would tear me to bits if I so much as placed a toe into the water.

I scrunched my nose and headed onward. I paddled each day until sunset. I never stopped. I never took a break. I knew that I had to keep moving; I knew that I had to keep going.

A loud whomp broke my mechanical movement, snapping me back into reality. I looked over the side of my kayak, seeing a cement sign beneath me where the entrance to a neighborhood once greeted its occupants.

I sighed, steadily moving my torso in an attempt to get myself unstuck without harming my kayak. After a few more unsuccessful movements, I sat back in anguish and annoyance.

I looked back at the place I had come from, seeing the rooftops now. The neighborhood that was once teeming with families and laughter was gone. Now only empty shells and attics remain, and soon, those too will be gone. The water was quickly swallowing the last remainder of humanity, consuming the slowest, oldest, and sick first.

The sight of the flooded neighborhood should have frightened me or made me nervous, but it did nothing. I had grown calloused and numb, broken by the terrors of this new world.

I tried one last time to free myself, and my kayak finally slipped off the cement. I shrugged, placing my paddle back into the water; however, I froze as I saw a pair of glowing green eyes beneath me.

Now, the creatures moving below me did frighten me. I knew what they were capable of.

The creature stared at me as I slid my paddle out of the water. The breath caught in my throat, and my heart hammered into my chest.

It gently swam under me, staring with watchful eyes. Its body scraped against the bottom, rocking me from side to side.

Please leave. Please…

My thoughts were screaming inside of me, teeming with ways to escape, but I couldn’t move. The creatures beneath the water were fickle, unfeeling, and mysterious.

When they first began to attack humans, no one really noticed. There were bodies everywhere from the floods, from the broken dams, from the failed levees. No one noticed that the creatures within the water had developed a taste for our blood.

The creature below me ran its long, taloned finger down the side of my kayak, taunting me. My breath grew quiet. It was surely going to kill me, but instead, it slowly lifted a knife out of the water, pushing it onto the top of my kayak.

I had never seen the creatures so much as place a fin out of the water. The skin was speckled with earthen tones of brown, green, and black. Its talons were curved, perfect for maiming and clawing. A slit sat beneath the bottom of its palm where a long barb would emerge. Its fingers were webbed, knit together by thin, stretchy pieces of wrinkled skin.

The knife clattered into my lap as the creature knocked into the kayak. Then, it reached up once more, and it grabbed my hand. My fingers trembled, and my body shook with adrenaline and fear. Panic coursed through my very veins, vibrating beneath the skin as it hummed within me.

The wet and coarse palm of the creature was as cold as ice. The skin felt slick against mine, difficult to grasp.

Its eyes were getting closer to the surface.

Every fiber of my being squirmed; I nearly forgot to breathe. It was coming to me… It was coming to the surface.

A gunshot rang through the quiet, and I looked up to see an old man standing on his roof, gun in hand. It was a warning shot, but the creature didn’t need to be warned again. It disappeared beneath the water, racing into the somber depths. The old man lowered the gun, taking a deep breath in relief.

He and I gazed at each other, silently absorbing the features of another human. He was the first living person that I had encountered in months.

His eyes were light blue, folded beneath wrinkles and gray hair. His jaw hung to the side, shocked to see another human as well. Age spots rested upon his hands as he clutched tightly to the gun. He swallowed hard, unable to speak at first.

Breathlessly, I stared, unsure if he was a friend or a foe. My fingernails dug into my paddle. Every muscle twitched in anticipation, preparing to paddle for my life. I would make a good meal. He could salt me and pickle me, store me in a jar. I’d give him sustenance, and he’d free me from this place. A terrible trade, but at least I’d be with my family.

He clenched his jaw before speaking. “That one is different,” he said. “It’s all alone. No pod like the others. It’s been hanging around my house. I don’t know if it means harm or it’s just curious.”

I didn’t reply. My mouth was frozen in place, lips quivering as they struggled to move. I couldn’t remember the last time I had spoken or heard my own voice.

“You can come inside if you want. I have some food and fresh water that I collect. It isn’t much, but you’re the first human I’ve seen in several months. I was starting to think I was the last.”

I still didn’t answer. I had learned my lesson about strangers after nearly being eaten by them.

He wet his lips, considering his next words cautiously. “Listen, I’m going to put some food on the roof. You don’t have to come inside. I’ll leave you alone.”

He hobbled to a skylight in his roof, pulled it open, and disappeared inside. He returned a moment later with a single can of tuna.

“It ain’t much, but it’s all I’ve got.”

My mouth watered, and my stomach grumbled. I hadn’t eaten in two days.

He gently placed the can on the farthest end of the roof where I could easily slip by on my kayak and get it. Slowly, he put his hands up in surrender. He limped back to the skylight and climbed back inside.

I sat quietly in my kayak for a moment, pondering the can of tuna. My stomach ached, and I went against every ounce of my best judgment. I cut through the water swiftly to reach that stupid can. I ripped it off the roof, tore it open, and consumed it with my fingers. I dug into the can like an animal, unable to stop long enough to chew. I simply shoveled it down, swallowing without thinking. I barely tasted it.

The old man peered at me through the skylight, smiling to himself.

After satiating my appetite for the time being, I nodded to the man.

He nodded back, grateful I didn’t decide to kill him like I feared he’d kill me.

I paddled onward, but I stopped, turning back to look at the old man’s house. Maybe I could stay for one day more. Just one.

It started with rain... lots and lots of rain.

Then the floods came. The sky wept viciously, and it poured for months. The waters killed the crops, drowned entire towns and cities. So many people died, and that was just the beginning.

Some said it was an act of God, punishment for the sins we wrought upon his most beloved creation. Others said that it was the Earth’s vengeance, rage from our pillaging, poisoning, and pollution. I didn’t think it was either. I think it’s just the end of man, and the beginning for something else.

No one knew what they were. Beautiful, slender creatures with eyes like emeralds, glowing beneath the murky water. We never saw their full form, and they never came close enough to breach the surface. Moving quickly, agile, and inhuman, we never even saw them until it was too late. They didn’t speak or interact with us, but I was smart enough to know they weren’t our friends.

People rallied to their aid, begging them to help humanity and praying to them. Some believed that they were gods from the olden age, returning to claim the land that was once their home. Yet, wants and wishes can often be blurred when fear and terror clutch tightly to our throats. And the world was desperate. Our homes were sinking beneath the water, brick and cement fading beneath the waves. Our lives were gobbled up.

The creatures watched us, learning how we reacted to the catastrophic events around us. They watched us attack each other for food and clean water. They watched us burn… and grow violent.

Even still, they were right about us from the beginning. Man has always destroyed itself. Cain killed Abel with a rock. The first blood of man poured into the ground, soaking the soil with pain and his brother’s rageful pride. The creatures only provided a small push toward the edge.

My name is Isaac, and I’m one of the last humans left.

My day begins quietly. I’m usually awoken by the soft sound of dripping or the groan of the building that I’ve been hiding in. I move every day, seeking shelter anywhere I can. I’ve slept in trees, buildings nearly submerged, and on rooftops. I’ll sleep anywhere that isn’t completely underwater.

Once I wake up, I start moving again.

Rogue groups of the last humans aren’t friendly, and some have grown cannibalistic. They fight over resources, dry land if they find it, and anything that can be traded. I’ve managed to stay alive this long by the skin of my teeth. There are two rules in this world now. Never go into the water and never stop moving.

Before the rain, the floods, and the creatures, I was a sophomore in college. I lived at home with my mom, dad, and little brother. My life was good. I liked to read, treasuring the written word. I might’ve been a writer in another life, a journalist, or an English teacher. I was a hiker in my free time. I loved nature. I loved her wild tendrils of leaves and vines, her certainty and iron fist. I don’t know if I love her anymore. She took a lot from me.

I’m the last one in my family, and I can’t remember what they look like anymore. Terror and survival ripped them from me, leaving a hollow shell where a soul once resided.

Sometimes, I think a part of me went with them. The good part of me. The part of me that loved to read. The rest remains, barely clinging to life anymore.

Hunger sometimes wakes me up. The bitter ache of a shrinking stomach is indescribable. You consider eating dirt, believing it’ll taste like crushed cookies. The mind can inflict terrible atrocities when starvation clings to your bones, withering the muscle and organs within.

I forced my body up, knowing that if I didn’t move, someone would find me. The incessant dripping around me had begun to sound like a clock ticking as I rolled onto my side. The damp wood where I slept in a stranger’s attic was nearly decayed. I wouldn’t be able to come back here. This would be the last time I could rest here for the night.

Empty spiderwebs stretched above me. A few boxes of Christmas decorations and clothes sat forlorn, abandoned, and forgotten. It was the last remnant of the family that once resided here, and slowly, it too would be consumed by the water. It wouldn’t be much longer now.

I stretched, reaching above my head and kicking out my legs. The rope attached to my kayak jerked my leg back into place, and I winced.

I had tied my kayak to my leg like my father taught me before he died. In his opinion, it was better to be dragged into the water with your kayak than lose it. This polished piece of wood was my only mode of transportation; I was keenly aware that it helped me escape detection and increased my chances of survival.

I needed it, or I’d die.

My father made my kayak, carefully carved with speed and sturdiness in mind. He and I had planned to use it at the local river. It was his passion project, building kayaks as his father had taught him. I would’ve learned how to do it too. He would’ve taught my brother as well.

I walked to the untouched boxes and began to rummage through them. I found some wire, batteries, decorative rope for a Christmas tree, which I could use for anything, and, sitting at the bottom in pristine condition, a flashlight. I jerked the flashlight out and flicked it on. I nearly cried upon seeing the beam of light. I quickly turned it off, not wanting to waste the light.

I shoved my goodies into my backpack and pulled the kayak closer to me. I got inside, tucking my backpack between my legs and setting off through the small space I’d squeezed my kayak into last night.

It was early morning, misty and faceless. I hadn’t seen the sun in months, and I doubt it wanted to see what had become of its precious planet. It would’ve been so disappointed.

I could hardly see in the foggy morning. I vaguely made out the tops of the trees. They appeared as bushes atop the water, barely growing. Some were dormant, patiently waiting for the sun’s return as if winter had befallen them, and others were dead. Logs floated aimlessly, and occasionally, a crate or a box would drift by. A few alligators patrolled the still water, reflective eyes hoping I’d fall in. It was all their land now. I was the stranger passing through, but part of me knew that the Earth always belonged to its creatures. Humans weren’t necessarily the owners of anything. We were borrowers, taking what we could to build what we needed.

Now… We can’t even borrow.

My wooden paddle cut through the still water, sending concentric rings in all directions. I disturbed the peace, silence, and solemn slumber of the water. I could only pray that it would allow me passage through its insidious and drenched realm.

I paddled quietly, moving without thinking.

A body floated beside me, face down. I slowed my pace to look at it. The lump of rot and maggots was caught in the branches of a tree. The skin was shredded, purple-tinged and gray. A putrid mix of decay and sulfur lingered in the air around it.

I thought maybe it was a victim of the flood, but then it bobbed to the side as the ripple of my kayak moved it. Bite marks ripped through the muscles and tendons. The jagged holes where flesh should be were akin to the bites of a shark, but I knew what monstrosity had made them. It was the same creature that would tear me to bits if I so much as placed a toe into the water.

I scrunched my nose and headed onward. I paddled each day until sunset. I never stopped. I never took a break. I knew that I had to keep moving; I knew that I had to keep going.

A loud whomp broke my mechanical movement, snapping me back into reality. I looked over the side of my kayak, seeing a cement sign beneath me where the entrance to a neighborhood once greeted its occupants.

I sighed, steadily moving my torso in an attempt to get myself unstuck without harming my kayak. After a few more unsuccessful movements, I sat back in anguish and annoyance.

I looked back at the place I had come from, seeing the rooftops now. The neighborhood that was once teeming with families and laughter was gone. Now only empty shells and attics remain, and soon, those too will be gone. The water was quickly swallowing the last remainder of humanity, consuming the slowest, oldest, and sick first.

The sight of the flooded neighborhood should have frightened me or made me nervous, but it did nothing. I had grown calloused and numb, broken by the terrors of this new world.

I tried one last time to free myself, and my kayak finally slipped off the cement. I shrugged, placing my paddle back into the water; however, I froze as I saw a pair of glowing green eyes beneath me.

Now, the creatures moving below me did frighten me. I knew what they were capable of.

The creature stared at me as I slid my paddle out of the water. The breath caught in my throat, and my heart hammered into my chest.

It gently swam under me, staring with watchful eyes. Its body scraped against the bottom, rocking me from side to side.

Please leave. Please…

My thoughts were screaming inside of me, teeming with ways to escape, but I couldn’t move. The creatures beneath the water were fickle, unfeeling, and mysterious.

When they first began to attack humans, no one really noticed. There were bodies everywhere from the floods, from the broken dams, from the failed levees. No one noticed that the creatures within the water had developed a taste for our blood.

The creature below me ran its long, taloned finger down the side of my kayak, taunting me. My breath grew quiet. It was surely going to kill me, but instead, it slowly lifted a knife out of the water, pushing it onto the top of my kayak.

I had never seen the creatures so much as place a fin out of the water. The skin was speckled with earthen tones of brown, green, and black. Its talons were curved, perfect for maiming and clawing. A slit sat beneath the bottom of its palm where a long barb would emerge. Its fingers were webbed, knit together by thin, stretchy pieces of wrinkled skin.

The knife clattered into my lap as the creature knocked into the kayak. Then, it reached up once more, and it grabbed my hand. My fingers trembled, and my body shook with adrenaline and fear. Panic coursed through my very veins, vibrating beneath the skin as it hummed within me.

The wet and coarse palm of the creature was as cold as ice. The skin felt slick against mine, difficult to grasp.

Its eyes were getting closer to the surface.

Every fiber of my being squirmed; I nearly forgot to breathe. It was coming to me… It was coming to the surface.

A gunshot rang through the quiet, and I looked up to see an old man standing on his roof, gun in hand. It was a warning shot, but the creature didn’t need to be warned again. It disappeared beneath the water, racing into the somber depths. The old man lowered the gun, taking a deep breath in relief.

He and I gazed at each other, silently absorbing the features of another human. He was the first living person that I had encountered in months.

His eyes were light blue, folded beneath wrinkles and gray hair. His jaw hung to the side, shocked to see another human as well. Age spots rested upon his hands as he clutched tightly to the gun. He swallowed hard, unable to speak at first.

Breathlessly, I stared, unsure if he was a friend or a foe. My fingernails dug into my paddle. Every muscle twitched in anticipation, preparing to paddle for my life. I would make a good meal. He could salt me and pickle me, store me in a jar. I’d give him sustenance, and he’d free me from this place. A terrible trade, but at least I’d be with my family.

He clenched his jaw before speaking. “That one is different,” he said. “It’s all alone. No pod like the others. It’s been hanging around my house. I don’t know if it means harm or it’s just curious.”

I didn’t reply. My mouth was frozen in place, lips quivering as they struggled to move. I couldn’t remember the last time I had spoken or heard my own voice.

“You can come inside if you want. I have some food and fresh water that I collect. It isn’t much, but you’re the first human I’ve seen in several months. I was starting to think I was the last.”

I still didn’t answer. I had learned my lesson about strangers after nearly being eaten by them.

He wet his lips, considering his next words cautiously. “Listen, I’m going to put some food on the roof. You don’t have to come inside. I’ll leave you alone.”

He hobbled to a skylight in his roof, pulled it open, and disappeared inside. He returned a moment later with a single can of tuna.

“It ain’t much, but it’s all I’ve got.”

My mouth watered, and my stomach grumbled. I hadn’t eaten in two days.

He gently placed the can on the farthest end of the roof where I could easily slip by on my kayak and get it. Slowly, he put his hands up in surrender. He limped back to the skylight and climbed back inside.

I sat quietly in my kayak for a moment, pondering the can of tuna. My stomach ached, and I went against every ounce of my best judgment. I cut through the water swiftly to reach that stupid can. I ripped it off the roof, tore it open, and consumed it with my fingers. I dug into the can like an animal, unable to stop long enough to chew. I simply shoveled it down, swallowing without thinking. I barely tasted it.

The old man peered at me through the skylight, smiling to himself.

After satiating my appetite for the time being, I nodded to the man.

He nodded back, grateful I didn’t decide to kill him like I feared he’d kill me.

I paddled onward, but I stopped, turning back to look at the old man’s house. Maybe I could stay for one day more. Just one.

Bells and whistles,

Gold and silver thistles.

Pretty little horses,

Bronze and bright.

The collector was coming,

In the subtle, soft night.

 

He came without hurry,

Without thought or worry.

For the time was coming.

The collector started humming,

Song drifted down the road.

 

At first, he was sweet,

His fingers nimble and so neat

No concern from the town.

Not a single child to feel down.

He came with gifts and joys,

Little presents and little toys.

 

They invited his presence.

Welcomed his pleasance.

But looks are deceiving,

Left many fools grieving.

 

In a mere three days,

The collector had changed.

His voice grew low and deep like a drum.

Hands grew larger with claws like thread that is spun.

The night would reveal,

Something sinister and surreal.

 

The time to pay came swift.

No town left amiss.

The people they gathered,

Hunched low and tattered.

 

His new body lay bare.

For the people, his eyes glared.

Eyes warping and glowing.

A feast of flesh and blood flowing.

 

With greedy hands he devoured,

Taking bone to his bower.

Breaking bread with his dinner

And glad she wasn’t thinner.

Bloodshed and bile.

Thoughts soiled and vile.

 

The collector took his prize,

Took innocent and green eyes.

With fervor and greed,

He gave in to his every need.

 

Once his appetite was satiated,

His form left abated.

His fingers grew nimble,

Perfect for a thimble.

 

And the people they know.

The collector will always show.

With bells and whistles,

And gold and silver thistles.

Pretty little horses,

Bronze and bright.

Gifts that elate the night.

 

Refuse the gifts.

The payment is swift.

He comes without hurry,

Without a thought or worry.

But his transformation is fierce,

Bones will break and flesh will pierce.

The collector may come.

Hide your children and run.

Life is good.

That’s what my mom always told me. She believed that life would repay you with goodness so long as you gave it back to others. I’m not sure she was right. I’ve never been sure.

“Get in the car, Conner!” Jeanie shouted. She waved at me in annoyance, trying to hurry me. Her brown rimmed glasses shone in the sunlight.

We’d been planning this trip for weeks. A full weekend with friends in Grenwich National Park. Jeanie reserved the tent spot. Parker was bringing the beer, and his girlfriend, Sue, was bringing the tents. All I had to do was contribute ten bucks to the beer fund and bring my sleeping bag.

My mom kissed my cheek before I left, hugging me tightly. “Have fun, okay? I’ll check the mail tomorrow to see if an acceptance letter came in. I’m sure one will show up.”

She smiled brightly, but my stomach was in knots. I applied to three occupational therapy programs after finals ended, and now, all I could do was wait. It was killing me. The anticipation, the fear… It shouldn’t be so hard to help people.

Jeanie lay on the horn, and I laughed. “I’m COMING!” I shouted, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and grabbing my duffle bag.

I ran out the door, slamming my hand onto Jeanie’s car. “Lay off the horn, asshole. This is a neighborhood.”

She smirked, always eager for mischief. I got into the passenger seat and kissed her cheek.

“Don’t you dare, Conner.”

I chuckled to myself, knowing that Jeanie and I weren’t going to rekindle anything. But man, I do love to make fun of her about it. She and I had drunkenly made out once, but that was all.

Jeanie and I drove happily, blasting music out of her bright blue jeep. The wind whipped our faces, and the smell of summer filled our minds. Jeanie laughed over the sound of the music; tendrils of her long brown hair thrashed wildly.

When we reached Grenwich National Park, Parker and Sue were already there. They were making out viciously on the hood of Parker’s car. If we’d come any later, they wouldn’t have been clothed.

“God,” Jeanie hissed. “If I knew when I introduced them that they’d be this sickening as a couple, I wouldn’t have done it.”

Too engrossed with each other to notice us, I gave Jeanie a devious look. She nodded. I slammed on the horn. The two of them tore away from each other, and Parker immediately flipped us off.

Jeanie and I laughed hysterically.

Parker walked to the jeep and helped us unload.

“You bring three tents?” I asked Sue.

She nodded. “Of course, but you and Jeanie can always share.” She winked.

Jeanie rolled her eyes. “I think I’d rather die.”

Parker snorted. “Calm down. It was a joke.”

Sue popped her trunk and dispersed the tent packs, making sure to load down Parker like a camel. She’d brought way too much stuff, but she’s her boyfriend’s problem. He gets to carry her crap. He gave me a help me look, and I begrudgingly took her stupidly heavy makeup bag.

And the four of us began to hike through the dense woods.

Grenwich is a nice place. I’ve grown up here my whole life. I know Grenwich like the back of my hand. The roads are practically traced lines of my palm like map markings, leading to the place I’d always called home.

Safe. Good. Calm.

After we’d hiked about an hour, we came upon the reserved spot. A red sign was staked into the ground. Jeanie’s last name was freshly stuck to the bottom.

“Praise God,” Sue said, chunking her one backpack onto the ground.

Jeanie stifled a laugh while poor Parker unloaded himself, removing at least four bags from his shoulders and around his neck. A thick red whelp was forming on his neck where a strap had dug into him.

“Geeze,” I mumbled to Parker and gestured at his bruising.

He stopped me, not wanting Sue to hear.

The group of us began to pitch our tents, fighting the ground as we staked the metal pegs into the soil. The ground was hard, dry, and aching for water.

As I staked my final metal peg into the ground, the peg fell right through the soil, swallowed by darkness below. Earth fell away, revealing a tunnel into endless night. A few pieces of dirt slipped into the darkness, descending into the hole.

“Check this out,” I said lowly.

Parker heard me and stepped away from his tent to come look. “Damn,” he whispered.

He pulled a glow stick out of his bag, cracked it, and dropped it into the hole. The glow stick fell quickly, slipping into the pitch-black. The glow slowly grew smaller. A flicker. A pinprick. Then, it was gone. I grimaced and quickly began to dig up the other pegs. I didn’t want to be sleeping anywhere near that unending tunnel.

“You’re being dramatic,” Parker said with a scoff.

“Am I?” I asked sarcastically.

Jeanie and Sue looked up from their tents.

“What is going on?” Jeanie asked, walking towards us.

Sue followed, nearly stepping into the hole. Parker pulled her back.

“Crap,” Jeanie said, poking a foot toward it. “What the fuck do you think made that?”

“A gopher,” Parker replied nonchalantly.

Jeanie shook her head. “I don’t think so. That is very deep, don’t you think?” she asked, looking up at me for confirmation.

I shrugged. “All I know is that I don’t want my tent anywhere near it. I’m happily moving over there,” I replied, pointing toward the last cleared spot by the pine trees.

Everyone else chuckled.

“You guys want to go down by the lake?” Jeanie asked. “I booked this spot because it has the easiest access to the lake.”

Sue and Parker agreed, but I shook my head.

“I’ll stay here and set up my tent… again,” I grumbled.

“I can stay back with you,” Parker said, patting my shoulder. “But that means I’d need Parker Payment…”

“Stay away from me, you sick fuck!” I hissed, backing away from him.

He chased after me anyway, cornering me between the tall grass and the massive hole. Sue and Jeanie laughed wildly, holding their stomachs as Parker tortured me. I had no choice but to face him now.

Parker Payment was something he’d come up with when we were young. Anytime he did something he considered chivalrous or in need of recognition, he requested Parker Payment. It sounds horrific, but if he catches you, he pulls your head into a chokehold and kisses your head before giving you the most painful noogie of your life. It doesn’t help that Parker is absolutely massive. He’s six foot five, fast, and incredibly strong. Parker Payment is nothing more than friendly hazing, but I hated it more than anything. Parker and I grew up together, childhood neighbors and childhood friends. He moves to the beat of his own drum, and most find him very abrasive. I happen to agree.

I tried to run past him, but he snatched me up, pulled me into the crook of his arm, and noogied me until I tapped out. When he let me go, I coughed, still smelling the scent of his BO and intense cologne.

“I hate you, man…” I wheezed, trying to catch my breath.

I rubbed my head angrily, watching him smile proudly to himself.

“You are beyond irritating, you know that! I never even agreed to you staying!” I laughed, crossing my arms over my chest.

He smirked. “Then, you simply got a noogie to grow on. It’ll give you luck for those acceptance letters.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

“Listen, are we going to the lake or not?” Sue asked, tapping her foot. “I’m ready to swim.”

“I’m coming,” Parker replied. “You sure you’re gonna be okay by yourself, Conner?”

I waved my hand at him, urging him to leave me be. “Yes! Just go, dude! Go enjoy the lake. I’ll be just fine.”

The three of them grabbed a water bottle and sauntered off toward the path to the lake. Meanwhile, I started on my tent again. By the time I finished fighting with the cheaply built piece of shit, it was growing dark. Nervously, I looked toward the lake. Part of me wanted to rush down the path to find them, but another part told me to stay put.

I chose to trust my gut.

I made a fire from the wood Jeanie brought from her jeep, arranging it perfectly. Then I walked into her tent to find her lighter. I couldn’t find it. I flung open the tent and sat down in front of the cold fire, knowing I’d have to wait for Jeanie to come back. She’d probably put the tiny lighter into the most inconspicuous pocket.

I rubbed through my hair, waiting patiently for my friends to return, but they never did.

When the moon kissed the sky, and the stars prayed to the earth, the frogs began to croak, singing their sweet symphonies into the night. The crickets chirped, and the locusts hummed. Fireflies glistened through the trees, beckoning me into the darkness of their realm.

Begrudgingly, I fought off my gut feeling and decided to go look for them. I grabbed my backpack from my tent and headed down the dark path. With trembling hands, I pulled my flashlight out of my bag. I’d always been a chicken. I didn’t like the dark, and it didn’t matter how old I got. I’d never feel safe at night.

Vines snaked along the bases of the trees, growing heartily stronger until they’d swallow the trunk. Mushrooms grew wildly along the path, and pieces and parts of sticks lay matted within furry lichens.

I followed the path, seeing their footprints along the way. Somehow, it gave me a sense of safety. Knowing that their steps guided mine felt comforting, in a way. As I walked, my flashlight began to flicker.

“No…” I groaned, slamming it into my palm.

Then, it went out, leaving me in the shadows and vicious thoughts of the forest’s mind.

I looked ahead. Only the moon was my guide now; perhaps she’d spur me onward. But alas, clouds shifted over her glowing face. The tufts of white feathers and glowing sweets swallowed the moon whole, drifting onto her like fingers slipping down her cheek. I stared up at the clouds above, seeing the eerie shape of a hand grasping onto the moon, clutching it fervently.

“Conner…” a voice whispered in the dark.

I froze, heart hammering into my chest.

“Conner…” it whispered again, echoing ahead of me now.

I said nothing, not recognizing the voice and not daring to answer.

A soft chuckle reverberated from below me. I stumbled away from the sound, unsure exactly where I should be running to escape.

“There is no reason to be scared, Conner… I like the way you smell.”

As I continued to walk backward, a hand clasped onto my shoulder. “We’ve got to go!” Jeanie whispered.

She was soaking wet, and mud covered her clothing. Her eyes were wild and crazed. But the more I looked at her, the more hollowed out she appeared. Those didn’t look like her eyes. She didn’t look right.

“Jeanie!” I asked in confusion. “What the fuck happened?”

“Move!” she hissed.

I followed her as she led me deeper and deeper into the woods, straying from the path.

“Jeanie!”

She grabbed my arm, pulling me toward a large hole.

“JEANIE!” I yelled, ripping my arm from her grasp. I fell back to the ground, using all of my bodyweight to free myself.

Jeanie stepped inside the hole without a second thought, falling into the darkness as if she’d stepped off a diving board and into a pool below. A horrible crack echoed behind her as her body hit the ground below. I covered my ears, unable to comprehend the sound of a body breaking into a million pieces.

Fear rocked through me, knocking every nerve and fighting with my mind. I slowly removed my hands, hearing a horrible squelch from within the hole. Bones snapped. Blood gurgled, and a wicked hiss echoed from inside. With bated breath, I slowly began to move backward.

Silence overtook the forest. The creatures feared whatever beast lay inside the hole.

“There aren’t many like you, Conner…” A low voice spoke from the hole.

My body quaked with adrenaline. The voice was old and worn, but at the same time powerful and commanding, as though concealing itself to appear less threatening than it truly was.

A long, pale arm rose from within the hole. The fingers were blackened at the tips, and the talons ripped through the skin. Dirt rumbled beneath me, and something large shook the ground. My body began to shake as fear coursed through me. At one point, I thought that I had wet myself.

One finger gestured for me to move closer, but I didn’t dare to follow.

“Where is Jeanie?” I asked. “What have you done to her?”

A low growl escaped the hole. “She found her place… She’s with her friends now.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“You need not be frightened. I am Mother Long Leg. Your smell is not palatable for my taste. While delicious, I know that you are unripe.”

I swallowed hard, feeling vomit creeping up my throat. I forced it down, refusing to put myself in a more vulnerable position to this being of the darkness.

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered, voice finally failing me and exposing the terror leaking out of me.

“Enough questions, Conner… Too many questions can soil the mind; eat the dulcet curves and mechanics of the unknown. You need to remain sharp for the future ahead. I will allow you three more questions. Choose wisely. I do grow tired of playing games with mere mortals.”

I thought quietly, knowing that I needed to ask questions that piqued her interest without getting myself killed. I had to play her game. I had to appease her... placate her to survive.

“Where did you come from?” I whispered, fearfully clutching the grass below me and expecting the worst.

“A good question… A good question, indeed...” she replied. “I came from a very different world, boy. I came from a place trapped beneath the earth. There are more beings like me, hiding within the gloaming. More of us to see. More of us to grow… More of us to starve as we wait. I was born from a thought and an inkling, birthed by that which thrives within the dark and writhes in the dampness and dank.”

I pondered for a few moments, thinking wildly of another question.

The hand inched toward me, lifeless fingers stroking my cheek. My body shook violently, and sweat beaded down my brow. It was then I saw the hairy leg emerging from the arm. The creature was wearing someone’s arm and hand, using them as gloves.

“Why did you pick Grenwich to reside?” I forced out, recoiling from the creature’s touch.

A soft chuckle trickled from the hole. “Grenwich is riddled with food. For what I am needs life to survive, but I need magic far more. You see, Grenwich is an unfortunate place. Somehow a tear in the veil between realms formed. Creatures like me flocked to this town, but not by accident. Many… many… years ago, a man ventured to Grenwich. He desired to build a superior race, mate with the unknown, and grow it without restraint. But the universe must have balance. Even it has its limits. He was successful in a way, but he let in something dangerous… something that could not be contained by death alone. He let in me…”

I slowly stood up, and the creature shifted below me. A skittering sound speckled over the ground as many hands began to crawl into the hole from all corners of the forest. One slipped over my foot, and I forced myself not to cry out or scream.

“You have one last question… Conner.”

“May I see you?” I asked, somehow sensing that she wanted me to look… to see her.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

A hand shot through the tunnel and pulled me inside. I thrashed wildly as roots scraped down my cheeks, tearing into my clothing and cutting me. I landed with a thump next to Jeanie’s body. I covered my mouth, staring down at her bent bones, broken neck, and splattered entrails. One of her eyes was gone, and one of her hands was already missing. Her left leg was backward, and her soft brown tendrils of hair were caked with blood and dirt.

A heave erupted from me before I could control myself. I quickly turned away.

“Come this way…” Mother Long Leg growled. “Come and see... Come and see the wonders of the undergrowth.”

I followed the sound of her voice until I reached an enormous cavern. A thousand sparkling eyes met mine, as endless and unnerving as the universe. Hands continued to crawl to her, attaching to her many legs. Then, I saw her mouth. It was a gaping hole, teeth ringing around it. The teeth moved in an elliptical motion, slipping over and under the surrounding teeth. If swallowed by Mother Long Leg, you’d be ground to bits, shredded and sliced.

I never saw her eyes. I only saw the thousands that covered her. I wasn’t sure if two were her main source of vision, but I was out of questions to ask. I didn’t want to know what happened if I asked another.

“Gaze upon me...” Her voice morphed into an earthen bellow. Soil crumbled from the ceiling. “Gaze upon the mother...”

Mother Long Leg’s chilling breaths echoed around the chasm, low, growling, and grating. My soul quivered within me. I wanted to run, and I shouldn’t have asked to see her. I had made a terrible mistake.

Webbing stretched over each side of the cavern, providing a net for catching prey. Inside one of the webs, I saw the decayed corpse of a park ranger. His mouth hung open, and a hand began to crawl from the inside. It forced his jaw open with a horrible grinding noise. Then, covered in goopy decay and rotten blood, it fell onto the floor. Another began to emerge from his stomach. The outline of the hand pressed against his rotten flesh imprinted into my mind before it burst out and birthed itself into the cavern.

“Do not be afraid, dear boy… If I wanted you dead, you would be. You’d be food for my young, nourishment for the toils of the earth. Calm yourself... I want to give you something.”

She pushed a new flashlight toward me. It was coated in blood; perhaps ripped from the hand that once grasped it.

I slowly took it.

“Now go before I change my mind.” She chuckled loudly.

The horrible, deafening noise vibrated my bones, and I closed my eyes in fear, feeling dirt speckled onto me.

A hand surged toward me, pulled me through a different tunnel, and spat me out at the hole by our campsite. I looked around wildly, feeling something warm and wet beneath me. I flipped on the flashlight. It flickered to life, and I yelled in horror.

Parker and Sue were impaled on the trees above me. Thick branches tore through their sternums, held up by bone and wood. Parker’s hands were gone. His bloodied stumps dribbled slowly, making an incessant dripping noise that shattered my soul. His legs were torn off and placed upon the fire like wood. Sue was sewn onto him with webbing. Their mouths were sewn together. Blood dripped onto my head, and I quickly wiped it off. His eyes hung out of their sockets, lightly touching Sue’s head.

Sue’s body frightened me more. Her legs were tied together, twisted and twirled to make one large leg. Her hair was matted as if she was dragged along the forest floor while still alive.

I vomited, unable to stop myself until only green, foamy bile was left.

I tore through Jeanie’s tent, found her keys in her purse, and ran like a wild man down the path to the cars. When I reached it, I practically threw myself inside. I cranked it and began my drive to the closest police station.

My bloodied hands slipped on the steering wheel, and tears leaked down my cheeks unforgivingly. My friends were murdered like pigs and hung in the trees like puppets on strings.

MY FUCKING FRIENDS…. She’d killed my friends.

Fearfully, I looked in the rearview mirror to see a hand emerging from the forest. A single pale hand, waving as if I’d come again one day for a visit.

Life is good.

That’s what my mom always told me. She believed that life would repay you with goodness so long as you gave it back to others. I’m not sure she was right. I’ve never been sure.

“Get in the car, Conner!” Jeanie shouted. She waved at me in annoyance, trying to hurry me. Her brown rimmed glasses shone in the sunlight.

We’d been planning this trip for weeks. A full weekend with friends in Grenwich National Park. Jeanie reserved the tent spot. Parker was bringing the beer, and his girlfriend, Sue, was bringing the tents. All I had to do was contribute ten bucks to the beer fund and bring my sleeping bag.

My mom kissed my cheek before I left, hugging me tightly. “Have fun, okay? I’ll check the mail tomorrow to see if an acceptance letter came in. I’m sure one will show up.”

She smiled brightly, but my stomach was in knots. I applied to three occupational therapy programs after finals ended, and now, all I could do was wait. It was killing me. The anticipation, the fear… It shouldn’t be so hard to help people.

Jeanie lay on the horn, and I laughed. “I’m COMING!” I shouted, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and grabbing my duffle bag.

I ran out the door, slamming my hand onto Jeanie’s car. “Lay off the horn, asshole. This is a neighborhood.”

She smirked, always eager for mischief. I got into the passenger seat and kissed her cheek.

“Don’t you dare, Conner.”

I chuckled to myself, knowing that Jeanie and I weren’t going to rekindle anything. But man, I do love to make fun of her about it. She and I had drunkenly made out once, but that was all.

Jeanie and I drove happily, blasting music out of her bright blue jeep. The wind whipped our faces, and the smell of summer filled our minds. Jeanie laughed over the sound of the music; tendrils of her long brown hair thrashed wildly.

When we reached Grenwich National Park, Parker and Sue were already there. They were making out viciously on the hood of Parker’s car. If we’d come any later, they wouldn’t have been clothed.

“God,” Jeanie hissed. “If I knew when I introduced them that they’d be this sickening as a couple, I wouldn’t have done it.”

Too engrossed with each other to notice us, I gave Jeanie a devious look. She nodded. I slammed on the horn. The two of them tore away from each other, and Parker immediately flipped us off.

Jeanie and I laughed hysterically.

Parker walked to the jeep and helped us unload.

“You bring three tents?” I asked Sue.

She nodded. “Of course, but you and Jeanie can always share.” She winked.

Jeanie rolled her eyes. “I think I’d rather die.”

Parker snorted. “Calm down. It was a joke.”

Sue popped her trunk and dispersed the tent packs, making sure to load down Parker like a camel. She’d brought way too much stuff, but she’s her boyfriend’s problem. He gets to carry her crap. He gave me a help me look, and I begrudgingly took her stupidly heavy makeup bag.

And the four of us began to hike through the dense woods.

Grenwich is a nice place. I’ve grown up here my whole life. I know Grenwich like the back of my hand. The roads are practically traced lines of my palm like map markings, leading to the place I’d always called home.

Safe. Good. Calm.

After we’d hiked about an hour, we came upon the reserved spot. A red sign was staked into the ground. Jeanie’s last name was freshly stuck to the bottom.

“Praise God,” Sue said, chunking her one backpack onto the ground.

Jeanie stifled a laugh while poor Parker unloaded himself, removing at least four bags from his shoulders and around his neck. A thick red whelp was forming on his neck where a strap had dug into him.

“Geeze,” I mumbled to Parker and gestured at his bruising.

He stopped me, not wanting Sue to hear.

The group of us began to pitch our tents, fighting the ground as we staked the metal pegs into the soil. The ground was hard, dry, and aching for water.

As I staked my final metal peg into the ground, the peg fell right through the soil, swallowed by darkness below. Earth fell away, revealing a tunnel into endless night. A few pieces of dirt slipped into the darkness, descending into the hole.

“Check this out,” I said lowly.

Parker heard me and stepped away from his tent to come look. “Damn,” he whispered.

He pulled a glow stick out of his bag, cracked it, and dropped it into the hole. The glow stick fell quickly, slipping into the pitch-black. The glow slowly grew smaller. A flicker. A pinprick. Then, it was gone. I grimaced and quickly began to dig up the other pegs. I didn’t want to be sleeping anywhere near that unending tunnel.

“You’re being dramatic,” Parker said with a scoff.

“Am I?” I asked sarcastically.

Jeanie and Sue looked up from their tents.

“What is going on?” Jeanie asked, walking towards us.

Sue followed, nearly stepping into the hole. Parker pulled her back.

“Crap,” Jeanie said, poking a foot toward it. “What the fuck do you think made that?”

“A gopher,” Parker replied nonchalantly.

Jeanie shook her head. “I don’t think so. That is very deep, don’t you think?” she asked, looking up at me for confirmation.

I shrugged. “All I know is that I don’t want my tent anywhere near it. I’m happily moving over there,” I replied, pointing toward the last cleared spot by the pine trees.

Everyone else chuckled.

“You guys want to go down by the lake?” Jeanie asked. “I booked this spot because it has the easiest access to the lake.”

Sue and Parker agreed, but I shook my head.

“I’ll stay here and set up my tent… again,” I grumbled.

“I can stay back with you,” Parker said, patting my shoulder. “But that means I’d need Parker Payment…”

“Stay away from me, you sick fuck!” I hissed, backing away from him.

He chased after me anyway, cornering me between the tall grass and the massive hole. Sue and Jeanie laughed wildly, holding their stomachs as Parker tortured me. I had no choice but to face him now.

Parker Payment was something he’d come up with when we were young. Anytime he did something he considered chivalrous or in need of recognition, he requested Parker Payment. It sounds horrific, but if he catches you, he pulls your head into a chokehold and kisses your head before giving you the most painful noogie of your life. It doesn’t help that Parker is absolutely massive. He’s six foot five, fast, and incredibly strong. Parker Payment is nothing more than friendly hazing, but I hated it more than anything. Parker and I grew up together, childhood neighbors and childhood friends. He moves to the beat of his own drum, and most find him very abrasive. I happen to agree.

I tried to run past him, but he snatched me up, pulled me into the crook of his arm, and noogied me until I tapped out. When he let me go, I coughed, still smelling the scent of his BO and intense cologne.

“I hate you, man…” I wheezed, trying to catch my breath.

I rubbed my head angrily, watching him smile proudly to himself.

“You are beyond irritating, you know that! I never even agreed to you staying!” I laughed, crossing my arms over my chest.

He smirked. “Then, you simply got a noogie to grow on. It’ll give you luck for those acceptance letters.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

“Listen, are we going to the lake or not?” Sue asked, tapping her foot. “I’m ready to swim.”

“I’m coming,” Parker replied. “You sure you’re gonna be okay by yourself, Conner?”

I waved my hand at him, urging him to leave me be. “Yes! Just go, dude! Go enjoy the lake. I’ll be just fine.”

The three of them grabbed a water bottle and sauntered off toward the path to the lake. Meanwhile, I started on my tent again. By the time I finished fighting with the cheaply built piece of shit, it was growing dark. Nervously, I looked toward the lake. Part of me wanted to rush down the path to find them, but another part told me to stay put.

I chose to trust my gut.

I made a fire from the wood Jeanie brought from her jeep, arranging it perfectly. Then I walked into her tent to find her lighter. I couldn’t find it. I flung open the tent and sat down in front of the cold fire, knowing I’d have to wait for Jeanie to come back. She’d probably put the tiny lighter into the most inconspicuous pocket.

I rubbed through my hair, waiting patiently for my friends to return, but they never did.

When the moon kissed the sky, and the stars prayed to the earth, the frogs began to croak, singing their sweet symphonies into the night. The crickets chirped, and the locusts hummed. Fireflies glistened through the trees, beckoning me into the darkness of their realm.

Begrudgingly, I fought off my gut feeling and decided to go look for them. I grabbed my backpack from my tent and headed down the dark path. With trembling hands, I pulled my flashlight out of my bag. I’d always been a chicken. I didn’t like the dark, and it didn’t matter how old I got. I’d never feel safe at night.

Vines snaked along the bases of the trees, growing heartily stronger until they’d swallow the trunk. Mushrooms grew wildly along the path, and pieces and parts of sticks lay matted within furry lichens.

I followed the path, seeing their footprints along the way. Somehow, it gave me a sense of safety. Knowing that their steps guided mine felt comforting, in a way. As I walked, my flashlight began to flicker.

“No…” I groaned, slamming it into my palm.

Then, it went out, leaving me in the shadows and vicious thoughts of the forest’s mind.

I looked ahead. Only the moon was my guide now; perhaps she’d spur me onward. But alas, clouds shifted over her glowing face. The tufts of white feathers and glowing sweets swallowed the moon whole, drifting onto her like fingers slipping down her cheek. I stared up at the clouds above, seeing the eerie shape of a hand grasping onto the moon, clutching it fervently.

“Conner…” a voice whispered in the dark.

I froze, heart hammering into my chest.

“Conner…” it whispered again, echoing ahead of me now.

I said nothing, not recognizing the voice and not daring to answer.

A soft chuckle reverberated from below me. I stumbled away from the sound, unsure exactly where I should be running to escape.

“There is no reason to be scared, Conner… I like the way you smell.”

As I continued to walk backward, a hand clasped onto my shoulder. “We’ve got to go!” Jeanie whispered.

She was soaking wet, and mud covered her clothing. Her eyes were wild and crazed. But the more I looked at her, the more hollowed out she appeared. Those didn’t look like her eyes. She didn’t look right.

“Jeanie!” I asked in confusion. “What the fuck happened?”

“Move!” she hissed.

I followed her as she led me deeper and deeper into the woods, straying from the path.

“Jeanie!”

She grabbed my arm, pulling me toward a large hole.

“JEANIE!” I yelled, ripping my arm from her grasp. I fell back to the ground, using all of my bodyweight to free myself.

Jeanie stepped inside the hole without a second thought, falling into the darkness as if she’d stepped off a diving board and into a pool below. A horrible crack echoed behind her as her body hit the ground below. I covered my ears, unable to comprehend the sound of a body breaking into a million pieces.

Fear rocked through me, knocking every nerve and fighting with my mind. I slowly removed my hands, hearing a horrible squelch from within the hole. Bones snapped. Blood gurgled, and a wicked hiss echoed from inside. With bated breath, I slowly began to move backward.

Silence overtook the forest. The creatures feared whatever beast lay inside the hole.

“There aren’t many like you, Conner…” A low voice spoke from the hole.

My body quaked with adrenaline. The voice was old and worn, but at the same time powerful and commanding, as though concealing itself to appear less threatening than it truly was.

A long, pale arm rose from within the hole. The fingers were blackened at the tips, and the talons ripped through the skin. Dirt rumbled beneath me, and something large shook the ground. My body began to shake as fear coursed through me. At one point, I thought that I had wet myself.

One finger gestured for me to move closer, but I didn’t dare to follow.

“Where is Jeanie?” I asked. “What have you done to her?”

A low growl escaped the hole. “She found her place… She’s with her friends now.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“You need not be frightened. I am Mother Long Leg. Your smell is not palatable for my taste. While delicious, I know that you are unripe.”

I swallowed hard, feeling vomit creeping up my throat. I forced it down, refusing to put myself in a more vulnerable position to this being of the darkness.

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered, voice finally failing me and exposing the terror leaking out of me.

“Enough questions, Conner… Too many questions can soil the mind; eat the dulcet curves and mechanics of the unknown. You need to remain sharp for the future ahead. I will allow you three more questions. Choose wisely. I do grow tired of playing games with mere mortals.”

I thought quietly, knowing that I needed to ask questions that piqued her interest without getting myself killed. I had to play her game. I had to appease her... placate her to survive.

“Where did you come from?” I whispered, fearfully clutching the grass below me and expecting the worst.

“A good question… A good question, indeed...” she replied. “I came from a very different world, boy. I came from a place trapped beneath the earth. There are more beings like me, hiding within the gloaming. More of us to see. More of us to grow… More of us to starve as we wait. I was born from a thought and an inkling, birthed by that which thrives within the dark and writhes in the dampness and dank.”

I pondered for a few moments, thinking wildly of another question.

The hand inched toward me, lifeless fingers stroking my cheek. My body shook violently, and sweat beaded down my brow. It was then I saw the hairy leg emerging from the arm. The creature was wearing someone’s arm and hand, using them as gloves.

“Why did you pick Grenwich to reside?” I forced out, recoiling from the creature’s touch.

A soft chuckle trickled from the hole. “Grenwich is riddled with food. For what I am needs life to survive, but I need magic far more. You see, Grenwich is an unfortunate place. Somehow a tear in the veil between realms formed. Creatures like me flocked to this town, but not by accident. Many… many… years ago, a man ventured to Grenwich. He desired to build a superior race, mate with the unknown, and grow it without restraint. But the universe must have balance. Even it has its limits. He was successful in a way, but he let in something dangerous… something that could not be contained by death alone. He let in me…”

I slowly stood up, and the creature shifted below me. A skittering sound speckled over the ground as many hands began to crawl into the hole from all corners of the forest. One slipped over my foot, and I forced myself not to cry out or scream.

“You have one last question… Conner.”

“May I see you?” I asked, somehow sensing that she wanted me to look… to see her.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

A hand shot through the tunnel and pulled me inside. I thrashed wildly as roots scraped down my cheeks, tearing into my clothing and cutting me. I landed with a thump next to Jeanie’s body. I covered my mouth, staring down at her bent bones, broken neck, and splattered entrails. One of her eyes was gone, and one of her hands was already missing. Her left leg was backward, and her soft brown tendrils of hair were caked with blood and dirt.

A heave erupted from me before I could control myself. I quickly turned away.

“Come this way…” Mother Long Leg growled. “Come and see... Come and see the wonders of the undergrowth.”

I followed the sound of her voice until I reached an enormous cavern. A thousand sparkling eyes met mine, as endless and unnerving as the universe. Hands continued to crawl to her, attaching to her many legs. Then, I saw her mouth. It was a gaping hole, teeth ringing around it. The teeth moved in an elliptical motion, slipping over and under the surrounding teeth. If swallowed by Mother Long Leg, you’d be ground to bits, shredded and sliced.

I never saw her eyes. I only saw the thousands that covered her. I wasn’t sure if two were her main source of vision, but I was out of questions to ask. I didn’t want to know what happened if I asked another.

“Gaze upon me...” Her voice morphed into an earthen bellow. Soil crumbled from the ceiling. “Gaze upon the mother...”

Mother Long Leg’s chilling breaths echoed around the chasm, low, growling, and grating. My soul quivered within me. I wanted to run, and I shouldn’t have asked to see her. I had made a terrible mistake.

Webbing stretched over each side of the cavern, providing a net for catching prey. Inside one of the webs, I saw the decayed corpse of a park ranger. His mouth hung open, and a hand began to crawl from the inside. It forced his jaw open with a horrible grinding noise. Then, covered in goopy decay and rotten blood, it fell onto the floor. Another began to emerge from his stomach. The outline of the hand pressed against his rotten flesh imprinted into my mind before it burst out and birthed itself into the cavern.

“Do not be afraid, dear boy… If I wanted you dead, you would be. You’d be food for my young, nourishment for the toils of the earth. Calm yourself... I want to give you something.”

She pushed a new flashlight toward me. It was coated in blood; perhaps ripped from the hand that once grasped it.

I slowly took it.

“Now go before I change my mind.” She chuckled loudly.

The horrible, deafening noise vibrated my bones, and I closed my eyes in fear, feeling dirt speckle onto me.

A hand surged toward me, pulled me through a different tunnel, and spat me out at the hole by our campsite. I looked around wildly, feeling something warm and wet beneath me. I flipped on the flashlight. It flickered to life, and I yelled in horror.

Parker and Sue were impaled on the trees above me. Thick branches tore through their sternums, held up by bone and wood. Parker’s hands were gone. His bloodied stumps dribbled slowly, making an incessant dripping noise that shattered my soul. His legs were torn off and placed upon the fire like wood. Sue was sewn onto him with webbing. Their mouths were sewn together. Blood dripped onto my head, and I quickly wiped it off. His eyes hung out of their sockets, lightly touching Sue’s head.

Sue’s body frightened me more. Her legs were tied together, twisted and twirled to make one large leg. Her hair was matted as if she was dragged along the forest floor while still alive.

I vomited, unable to stop myself until only green, foamy bile was left.

I tore through Jeanie’s tent, found her keys in her purse, and ran like a wild man down the path to the cars. When I reached it, I practically threw myself inside. I cranked it and began my drive to the closest police station.

My bloodied hands slipped on the steering wheel, and tears leaked down my cheeks unforgivingly. My friends were murdered like pigs and hung in the trees like puppets on strings.

MY FUCKING FRIENDS…. She’d killed my friends.

Fearfully, I looked in the rearview mirror to see a hand emerging from the forest. A single pale hand, waving as if I’d come again one day for a visit.

Life is good.

That’s what my mom always told me. She believed that life would repay you with goodness so long as you gave it back to others. I’m not sure she was right. I’ve never been sure.

“Get in the car, Conner!” Jeanie shouted. She waved at me in annoyance, trying to hurry me. Her brown rimmed glasses shone in the sunlight.

We’d been planning this trip for weeks. A full weekend with friends in Grenwich National Park. Jeanie reserved the tent spot. Parker was bringing the beer, and his girlfriend, Sue, was bringing the tents. All I had to do was contribute ten bucks to the beer fund and bring my sleeping bag.

My mom kissed my cheek before I left, hugging me tightly. “Have fun, okay? I’ll check the mail tomorrow to see if an acceptance letter came in. I’m sure one will show up.”

She smiled brightly, but my stomach was in knots. I applied to three occupational therapy programs after finals ended, and now, all I could do was wait. It was killing me. The anticipation, the fear… It shouldn’t be so hard to help people.

Jeanie laid on the horn, and I laughed. “I’m COMING!” I shouted, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and grabbing my duffle bag.

I ran out the door, slamming my hand onto Jeanie’s car. “Lay off the horn, asshole. This is a neighborhood.”

She smirked, always eager for mischief. I got into the passenger seat and kissed her cheek.

“Don’t you dare, Conner.”

I chuckled to myself, knowing that Jeanie and I weren’t going to rekindle anything. But man, I do love to make fun of her about it. She and I had drunkenly made out once, but that was all.

Jeanie and I drove happily, blasting music out of her bright blue jeep. The wind whipped our faces, and the smell of summer filled our minds. Jeanie laughed over the sound of the music; tendrils of her long brown hair thrashed wildly.

When we reached Grenwich National Park, Parker and Sue were already there. They were making out viciously on the hood of Parker’s car. If we’d come any later, they wouldn’t have been clothed.

“God,” Jeanie hissed. “If I knew when I introduced them that they’d be this sickening as a couple, I wouldn’t have done it.”

Too engrossed with each other to notice us, I gave Jeanie a devious look. She nodded. I slammed on the horn. The two of them tore away from each other, and Parker immediately flipped us off.

Jeanie and I laughed hysterically.

Parker walked to the jeep and helped us unload.

“You bring three tents?” I asked Sue.

She nodded. “Of course, but you and Jeanie can always share.” She winked.

Jeanie rolled her eyes. “I think I’d rather die.”

Parker snorted. “Calm down. It was a joke.”

Sue popped her trunk and dispersed the tent packs, making sure to load down Parker like a camel. She’d brought way too much stuff, but she’s her boyfriend’s problem. He gets to carry her crap. He gave me a help me look, and I begrudgingly took her stupidly heavy makeup bag.

And the four of us began to hike through the dense woods.

Grenwich is a nice place. I’ve grown up here my whole life. I know Grenwich like the back of my hand. The roads are practically traced lines of my palm like map markings, leading to the place I’d always called home.

Safe. Good. Calm.

After we’d hiked about an hour, we came upon the reserved spot. A red sign was staked into the ground. Jeanie’s last name was freshly stuck to the bottom.

“Praise God,” Sue said, chunking her one backpack onto the ground.

Jeanie stifled a laugh while poor Parker unloaded himself, removing at least four bags from his shoulders and around his neck. A thick red whelp was forming on his neck where a strap had dug into him.

“Geeze,” I mumbled to Parker and gestured at his bruising.

He stopped me, not wanting Sue to hear.

The group of us began to pitch our tents, fighting the ground as we staked the metal pegs into the soil. The ground was hard, dry, and aching for water.

As I staked my final metal peg into the ground, the peg fell right through the soil, swallowed by darkness below. Earth fell away, revealing a tunnel into endless night. A few pieces of dirt slipped into the darkness, descending into the hole.

“Check this out,” I said lowly.

Parker heard me and stepped away from his tent to come look. “Damn,” he whispered.

He pulled a glow stick out of his bag, cracked it, and dropped it into the hole. The glow stick fell quickly, slipping into the pitch-black. The glow slowly grew smaller. A flicker. A pinprick. Then, it was gone. I grimaced and quickly began to dig up the other pegs. I didn’t want to be sleeping anywhere near that unending tunnel.

“You’re being dramatic,” Parker said with a scoff.

“Am I?” I asked sarcastically.

Jeanie and Sue looked up from their tents.

“What is going on?” Jeanie asked, walking towards us.

Sue followed, nearly stepping into the hole. Parker pulled her back.

“Crap,” Jeanie said, poking a foot toward it. “What the fuck do you think made that?”

“A gopher,” Parker replied nonchalantly.

Jeanie shook her head. “I don’t think so. That is very deep, don’t you think?” she asked, looking up at me for confirmation.

I shrugged. “All I know is that I don’t want my tent anywhere near it. I’m happily moving over there,” I replied, pointing toward the last cleared spot by the pine trees.

Everyone else chuckled.

“You guys want to go down by the lake?” Jeanie asked. “I booked this spot because it has the easiest access to the lake.”

Sue and Parker agreed, but I shook my head.

“I’ll stay here and set up my tent… again,” I grumbled.

“I can stay back with you,” Parker said, patting my shoulder. “But that means I’d need Parker Payment…”

“Stay away from me, you sick fuck!” I hissed, backing away from him.

He chased after me anyway, cornering me between the tall grass and the massive hole. Sue and Jeanie laughed wildly, holding their stomachs as Parker tortured me. I had no choice but to face him now.

Parker Payment was something he’d come up with when we were young. Anytime he did something he considered chivalrous or in need of recognition, he requested Parker Payment. It sounds horrific, but if he catches you, he pulls your head into a chokehold and kisses your head before giving you the most painful noogie of your life. It doesn’t help that Parker is absolutely massive. He’s six foot five, fast, and incredibly strong. Parker Payment is nothing more than friendly hazing, but I hated it more than anything. Parker and I grew up together, childhood neighbors and childhood friends. He moves to the beat of his own drum, and most find him very abrasive. I happen to agree.

I tried to run past him, but he snatched me up, pulled me into the crook of his arm, and noogied me until I tapped out. When he let me go, I coughed, still smelling the scent of his BO and intense cologne.

“I hate you, man…” I wheezed, trying to catch my breath.

I rubbed my head angrily, watching him smile proudly to himself.

“You are beyond irritating, you know that! I never even agreed to you staying!” I laughed, crossing my arms over my chest.

He smirked. “Then, you simply got a noogie to grow on. It’ll give you luck for those acceptance letters.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

“Listen, are we going to the lake or not?” Sue asked, tapping her foot. “I’m ready to swim.”

“I’m coming,” Parker replied. “You sure you’re gonna be okay by yourself, Conner?”

I waved my hand at him, urging him to leave me be. “Yes! Just go, dude! Go enjoy the lake. I’ll be just fine.”

The three of them grabbed a water bottle and sauntered off toward the path to the lake. Meanwhile, I started on my tent again. By the time I finished fighting with the cheaply built piece of shit, it was growing dark. Nervously, I looked toward the lake. Part of me wanted to rush down the path to find them, but another part told me to stay put.

I chose to trust my gut.

I made a fire from the wood Jeanie brought from her jeep, arranging it perfectly. Then I walked into her tent to find her lighter. I couldn’t find it. I flung open the tent and sat down in front of the cold fire, knowing I’d have to wait for Jeanie to come back. She’d probably put the tiny lighter into the most inconspicuous pocket.

I rubbed through my hair, waiting patiently for my friends to return, but they never did.

When the moon kissed the sky, and the stars prayed to the earth, the frogs began to croak, singing their sweet symphonies into the night. The crickets chirped, and the locusts hummed. Fireflies glistened through the trees, beckoning me into the darkness of their realm.

Begrudgingly, I fought off my gut feeling and decided to go look for them. I grabbed my backpack from my tent and headed down the dark path. With trembling hands, I pulled my flashlight out of my bag. I’d always been a chicken. I didn’t like the dark, and it didn’t matter how old I got. I’d never feel safe at night.

Vines snaked along the bases of the trees, growing heartily stronger until they’d swallow the trunk. Mushrooms grew wildly along the path, and pieces and parts of sticks lay matted within furry lichens.

I followed the path, seeing their footprints along the way. Somehow, it gave me a sense of safety. Knowing that their steps guided mine felt comforting, in a way. As I walked, my flashlight began to flicker.

“No…” I groaned, slamming it into my palm.

Then, it went out, leaving me in the shadows and vicious thoughts of the forest’s mind.

I looked ahead. Only the moon was my guide now; perhaps she’d spur me onward. But alas, clouds shifted over her glowing face. The tufts of white feathers and glowing sweets swallowed the moon whole, drifting onto her like fingers slipping down her cheek. I stared up at the clouds above, seeing the eerie shape of a hand grasping onto the moon, clutching it fervently.

“Conner…” a voice whispered in the dark.

I froze, heart hammering into my chest.

“Conner…” it whispered again, echoing ahead of me now.

I said nothing, not recognizing the voice and not daring to answer.

A soft chuckle reverberated from below me. I stumbled away from the sound, unsure exactly where I should be running to escape.

“There is no reason to be scared, Conner… I like the way you smell.”

As I continued to walk backward, a hand clasped onto my shoulder. “We’ve got to go!” Jeanie whispered.

She was soaking wet, and mud covered her clothing. Her eyes were wild and crazed. But the more I looked at her, the more hollowed out she appeared. Those didn’t look like her eyes. She didn’t look right.

“Jeanie!” I asked in confusion. “What the fuck happened?”

“Move!” she hissed.

I followed her as she led me deeper and deeper into the woods, straying from the path.

“Jeanie!”

She grabbed my arm, pulling me toward a large hole.

“JEANIE!” I yelled, ripping my arm from her grasp. I fell back to the ground, using all of my bodyweight to free myself.

Jeanie stepped inside the hole without a second thought, falling into the darkness as if she’d stepped off a diving board and into a pool below. A horrible crack echoed behind her as her body hit the ground below. I covered my ears, unable to comprehend the sound of a body breaking into a million pieces.

Fear rocked through me, knocking every nerve and fighting with my mind. I slowly removed my hands, hearing a horrible squelch from within the hole. Bones snapped. Blood gurgled, and a wicked hiss echoed from inside. With bated breath, I slowly began to move backward.

Silence overtook the forest. The creatures feared whatever beast lay inside the hole.

“There aren’t many like you, Conner…” A low voice spoke from the hole.

My body quaked with adrenaline. The voice was old and worn, but at the same time powerful and commanding, as though concealing itself to appear less threatening than it truly was.

A long, pale arm rose from within the hole. The fingers were blackened at the tips, and talons ripped through the skin. Dirt rumbled beneath me, and something large shook the ground. My body began to shake as fear coursed through me. At one point, I thought that I had wet myself.

One finger gestured for me to move closer, but I didn’t dare to follow.

“Where is Jeanie?” I asked. “What have you done to her?”

A low growl escaped the hole. “She found her place… She’s with her friends now.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“You need not be frightened. I am Mother Long Leg. Your smell is not palatable for my taste. While delicious, I know that you are unripe.”

I swallowed hard, feeling vomit creeping up my throat. I forced it down, refusing to put myself in a more vulnerable position to this being of the darkness.

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered, voice finally failing me and exposing the terror leaking out of me.

“Enough questions, Conner… Too many questions can soil the mind; eat the dulcet curves and mechanics of the unknown. You need to remain sharp for the future ahead. I will allow you three more questions. Choose wisely. I do grow tired of playing games with mere mortals.”

I thought quietly, knowing that I needed to ask questions that piqued her interest without getting myself killed. I had to play her game. I had to appease her... placate her to survive.

“Where did you come from?” I whispered, fearfully clutching the grass below me and expecting the worst.

“A good question… A good question, indeed...” she replied. “I came from a very different world, boy. I came from a place trapped beneath the earth. There are more beings like me, hiding within the gloaming. More of us to see. More of us to grow… More of us to starve as we wait. I was born from a thought and an inkling, birthed by that which thrives within the dark and writhes in the dampness and dank.”

I pondered for a few moments, thinking wildly of another question.

The hand inched toward me, lifeless fingers stroking my cheek. My body shook violently, and sweat beaded down my brow. It was then I saw the hairy leg emerging from the arm. The creature was wearing someone’s arm and hand, using them as gloves.

“Why did you pick Grenwich to reside?” I forced out, recoiling from the creature’s touch.

A soft chuckle trickled from the hole. “Grenwich is riddled with food. For what I am needs life to survive, but I need magic far more. You see, Grenwich is an unfortunate place. Somehow a tear in the veil between realms formed. Creatures like me flocked to this town, but not by accident. Many… many… years ago, a man ventured to Grenwich. He desired to build a superior race, mate with the unknown, and grow it without restraint. But the universe must have balance. Even it has its limits. He was successful in a way, but he let in something dangerous… something that could not be contained by death alone. He let in me…”

I slowly stood up, and the creature shifted below me. A skittering sound speckled over the ground as many hands began to crawl into the hole from all corners of the forest. One slipped over my foot, and I forced myself not to cry out or scream.

“You have one last question… Conner.”

“May I see you?” I asked, somehow sensing that she wanted me to look… to see her.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

A hand shot through the tunnel and pulled me inside. I thrashed wildly as roots scraped down my cheeks, tearing into my clothing and cutting me. I landed with a thump next to Jeanie’s body. I covered my mouth, staring down at her bent bones, broken neck, and splattered entrails. One of her eyes was gone, and one of her hands was already missing. Her left leg was backward, and her soft brown tendrils of hair were caked with blood and dirt.

A heave erupted from me before I could control myself. I quickly turned away.

“Come this way…” Mother Long Leg growled. “Come and see... Come and see the wonders of the undergrowth.”

I followed the sound of her voice until I reached an enormous cavern. A thousand sparkling eyes met mine, as endless and unnerving as the universe. Hands continued to crawl to her, attaching to her many legs. Then, I saw her mouth. It was a gaping hole, teeth ringing around it. The teeth moved in an elliptical motion, slipping over and under the surrounding teeth. If swallowed by Mother Long Leg, you’d be ground to bits, shredded and sliced.

I never saw her eyes. I only saw the thousands that covered her. I wasn’t sure if two were her main source of vision, but I was out of questions to ask. I didn’t want to know what happened if I asked another.

“Gaze upon me...” Her voice morphed into an earthen bellow. Soil crumbled from the ceiling. “Gaze upon the mother...”

Mother Long Leg’s chilling breaths echoed around the chasm, low, growling, and grating. My soul quivered within me. I wanted to run, and I shouldn’t have asked to see her. I had made a terrible mistake.

Webbing stretched over each side of the cavern, providing a net for catching prey. Inside one of the webs, I saw the decayed corpse of a park ranger. His mouth hung open, and a hand began to crawl from the inside. It forced his jaw open with a horrible grinding noise. Then, covered in goopy decay and rotten blood, it fell onto the floor. Another began to emerge from his stomach. The outline of the hand pressed against his rotten flesh imprinted into my mind before it burst out and birthed itself into the cavern.

“Do not be afraid, dear boy… If I wanted you dead, you would be. You’d be food for my young, nourishment for the toils of the earth. Calm yourself... I want to give you something.”

She pushed a new flashlight toward me. It was coated in blood; perhaps ripped from the hand that once grasped it.

I slowly took it.

“Now go before I change my mind.” She chuckled loudly.

The horrible, deafening noise vibrated my bones, and I closed my eyes in fear, feeling dirt speckle onto me.

A hand surged toward me, pulled me through a different tunnel, and spat me out at the hole by our campsite. I looked around wildly, feeling something warm and wet beneath me. I flipped on the flashlight. It flickered to life, and I yelled in horror.

Parker and Sue were impaled on the trees above me. Thick branches tore through their sternums, held up by bone and wood. Parker’s hands were gone. His bloodied stumps dribbled slowly, making an incessant dripping noise that shattered my soul. His legs were torn off and placed upon the fire like wood. Sue was sewn onto him with webbing. Their mouths were sewn together. Blood dripped onto my head, and I quickly wiped it off. His eyes hung out of their sockets, lightly touching Sue’s head.

Sue’s body frightened me more. Her legs were tied together, twisted and twirled to make one large leg. Her hair was matted as if she was dragged along the forest floor while still alive.

I vomited, unable to stop myself until only green, foamy bile was left.

I tore through Jeanie’s tent, found her keys in her purse, and ran like a wild man down the path to the cars. When I reached it, I practically threw myself inside. I cranked it and began my drive to the closest police station.

My bloodied hands slipped on the steering wheel, and tears leaked down my cheeks unforgivingly. My friends were murdered like pigs and hung in the trees like puppets on strings.

MY FUCKING FRIENDS…. She’d killed my friends.

Fearfully, I looked in the rearview mirror to see a hand emerging from the forest. A single pale hand, waving as if I’d come again one day for a visit.

Life is good.

That’s what my mom always told me. She believed that life would repay you with goodness so long as you gave it back to others. I’m not sure she was right. I’ve never been sure.

“Get in the car, Conner!” Jeanie shouted. She waved at me in annoyance, trying to hurry me. Her brown rimmed glasses shone in the sunlight.

We’d been planning this trip for weeks. A full weekend with friends in Grenwich National Park. Jeanie reserved the tent spot. Parker was bringing the beer, and his girlfriend, Sue, was bringing the tents. All I had to do was contribute ten bucks to the beer fund and bring my sleeping bag.

My mom kissed my cheek before I left, hugging me tightly. “Have fun, okay? I’ll check the mail tomorrow to see if an acceptance letter came in. I’m sure one will show up.”

She smiled brightly, but my stomach was in knots. I applied to three occupational therapy programs after finals ended, and now, all I could do was wait. It was killing me. The anticipation, the fear… It shouldn’t be so hard to help people.

Jeanie lay on the horn, and I laughed. “I’m COMING!” I shouted, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and grabbing my duffle bag.

I ran out the door, slamming my hand onto Jeanie’s car. “Lay off the horn, asshole. This is a neighborhood.”

She smirked, always eager for mischief. I got into the passenger seat and kissed her cheek.

“Don’t kiss me, Conner. We made out once, and I learned my lesson.”

I chuckled to myself, knowing that Jeanie and I weren’t going to rekindle anything. But man, I do love to make fun of her about it. She and I had drunkenly made out once, but that was all.

Jeanie and I drove happily, blasting music out of her bright blue jeep. The wind whipped our faces, and the smell of summer filled our minds. Jeanie laughed over the sound of the music; tendrils of her long brown hair thrashed wildly.

When we reached Grenwich National Park, Parker and Sue were already there. They were making out viciously on the hood of Parker’s car. If we’d come any later, they wouldn’t have been clothed.

“God,” Jeanie hissed. “If I knew when I introduced them that they’d be this sickening as a couple, I wouldn’t have done it.”

Too engrossed with each other to notice us, I gave Jeanie a devious look. She nodded. I slammed on the horn. The two of them tore away from each other, and Parker immediately flipped us off.

Jeanie and I laughed hysterically.

Parker walked to the jeep and helped us unload.

“You bring three tents?” I asked Sue.

She nodded. “Of course, but you and Jeanie can always share.” She winked.

Jeanie rolled her eyes. “I think I’d rather die.”

Parker snorted. “Calm down, grumpy. It was a joke.”

Sue popped her trunk and dispersed the tent packs, making sure to load down Parker like a camel. She’d brought way too much stuff, but she’s her boyfriend’s problem. He gets to carry her crap. He gave me a help me look, and I begrudgingly took her stupidly heavy makeup bag.

And the four of us began to hike through the dense woods.

Grenwich is a nice place. I’ve grown up here my whole life. I know Grenwich like the back of my hand. The roads are practically traced lines of my palm like map markings, leading to the place I’d always called home.

Safe. Good. Calm.

After we’d hiked about an hour, we came upon the reserved spot. A red sign was staked into the ground. Jeanie’s last name was freshly stuck to the bottom.

“Praise God,” Sue said, chunking her one backpack onto the ground.

Jeanie stifled a laugh while poor Parker unloaded himself, removing at least four bags from his shoulders and around his neck. A thick red whelp was forming on his neck where a strap had dug into him.

“Geeze,” I mumbled to Parker and gestured at his bruising.

He stopped me, not wanting Sue to hear.

The group of us began to pitch our tents, fighting with the ground to stake the metal pegs into the soil. The ground was hard, dry, and aching for water.

As I staked my final metal peg into the ground, the peg fell right through the soil, swallowed by darkness below. Earth fell away, revealing a tunnel into endless night. A few pieces of dirt slipped into the darkness, descending into the hole.

“Check this out,” I said lowly.

Parker heard me and stepped away from his tent to come look. “Damn,” he whispered.

He pulled a glow stick out of his bag, cracked it, and dropped it into the hole. The glow stick fell quickly, slipping into the pitch-black. The glow slowly grew smaller. A flicker. A pinprick. Then, it was gone. I grimaced and quickly began to dig up the other pegs. I didn’t want to be sleeping anywhere near that unending tunnel.

“You’re being dramatic,” Parker said with a scoff.

“Am I?” I asked sarcastically.

Jeanie and Sue looked up from their tents.

“What is going on?” Jeanie asked, walking towards us.

Sue followed, nearly stepping into the hole. Parker pulled her back.

“Crap,” Jeanie said, poking a foot toward it. “What the fuck do you think made that?”

“A gopher,” Parker replied nonchalantly.

Jeanie shook her head. “I don’t think so. That is very deep, don’t you think?” she asked, looking up at me for confirmation.

I shrugged. “All I know is that I don’t want my tent anywhere near it. I’m happily moving over there,” I replied, pointing toward the last cleared spot by the pine trees.

Everyone else chuckled.

“You guys want to go down by the lake?” Jeanie asked. “I booked this spot because it has the easiest access to the lake.”

Sue and Parker agreed, but I shook my head.

“I’ll stay here and set up my tent… again,” I grumbled.

“I can stay back with you,” Parker said, patting my shoulder. “But that means I’d need Parker Payment…”

“Stay away from me, you sick fuck!” I hissed, backing away from him.

He chased after me anyway, cornering me between the tall grass and the massive hole. Sue and Jeanie laughed wildly, holding their stomachs as Parker tortured me. I had no choice but to face him now.

Parker Payment was something he’d come up with when we were young. Anytime he did something he considered chivalrous or in need of recognition, he requested Parker Payment. It sounds horrific, but if he catches you, he pulls your head into a chokehold and kisses your head before giving you the most painful noogie of your life. It doesn’t help that Parker is absolutely massive. He’s six foot five, fast, and incredibly strong. Parker Payment is nothing more than friendly hazing, but I hated it more than anything.

I tried to run past him, but he snatched me up, pulled me into the crook of his arm, and noogied me until I tapped out. When he let me go, I coughed, still smelling the scent of his BO and intense cologne.

“I hate you, man…” I wheezed, trying to catch my breath.

He laughed, smiling proudly to himself.

“I never even agreed to you staying!” I laughed, crossing my arms over my chest.

He smirked. “Then, you simply got a noogie to grow on. It’ll give you luck for those acceptance letters.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

“Listen, are we going to the lake or not?” Sue asked, tapping her foot.

“I’m coming,” Parker replied. “You sure you’re gonna be okay by yourself, Conner?”

I waved my hand at him, urging him to leave me be. “Yes! Just go, dude! Go enjoy the lake. I’ll be just fine.”

The three of them grabbed a water bottle and sauntered off toward the path to the lake. Meanwhile, I started on my tent again. By the time I finished fighting with the cheaply built piece of shit, it was growing dark. Nervously, I looked toward the lake. Part of me wanted to rush down the path to find them, but another part told me to stay put.

I chose to trust my gut.

I made a fire from the wood Jeanie brought from her jeep, arranging it perfectly. Then I walked into her tent to find her lighter. I couldn’t find it. I flung open the tent and sat down in front of the cold fire, knowing I’d have to wait for Jeanie to come back. She’d probably put the tiny lighter into the most inconspicuous pocket.

I rubbed through my hair, waiting patiently for my friends to return, but they never did.

When the moon kissed the sky, and the stars prayed to the earth, the frogs began to croak, singing their sweet symphonies into the night. The crickets chirped, and the locusts hummed. Fireflies glistened through the trees, beckoning me into the darkness of their realm.

Begrudgingly, I fought off my gut feeling and decided to go look for them. I grabbed my backpack from my tent and headed down the dark path. With trembling hands, I pulled my flashlight out of my bag. I’d always been a chicken. I didn’t like the dark, and it didn’t matter how old I got. I’d never feel safe at night.

Vines snaked along the bases of the trees, growing heartily stronger until they’d swallow the trunk. Mushrooms grew wildly along the path, and pieces and parts of sticks lay matted within furry lichens.

I followed the path, seeing their footprints along the way. Somehow, it gave me a sense of safety. Knowing that their steps guided mine felt comforting, in a way. As I walked, my flashlight began to flicker.

“No…” I groaned, slamming it into my palm.

Then, it went out, leaving me in the shadows and vicious thoughts of the forest’s mind.

I looked ahead. Only the moon was my guide now; perhaps she’d spur me onward. But alas, clouds shifted over her glowing face. The tufts of white feathers and glowing sweets swallowed the moon whole, drifting onto her like fingers slipping down her cheek. I stared up at the clouds above, seeing the eerie shape of a hand grasping onto the moon, clutching it fervently.

“Conner…” a voice whispered in the dark.

I froze, heart hammering into my chest.

“Conner…” it whispered again, echoing ahead of me.

I said nothing, not recognizing the voice and not daring to answer.

A soft chuckle reverberated from below me. I stumbled away from the sound, unsure exactly where I should be running to escape.

“There is no reason to be scared, Conner… I like the way you smell.”

As I continued to walk backward, a hand clasped onto my shoulder. “We’ve got to go!” Jeanie whispered.

She was soaking wet, and mud covered her clothing. Her eyes were wild and crazed. But the more I looked at her, the more hollowed out she appeared. Those didn’t look like her eyes. She didn’t look right.

“Jeanie!” I asked in confusion. “What the fuck happened?”

“Move!” she hissed.

I followed her as she led me deeper and deeper into the woods, straying from the path.

“Jeanie!”

She grabbed my arm, pulling me toward a large hole.

“JEANIE!” I yelled, ripping my arm from her grasp. I fell back to the ground, using all of my bodyweight to free myself.

Jeanie stepped inside the hole without a second thought, falling into the darkness as if she’d stepped off a diving board and into a pool below. A horrible crack echoed behind her as her body hit the ground below. I covered my ears, unable to comprehend the sound of a body breaking into a million pieces.

Fear rocked through me, knocking every nerve and fighting with my mind. I slowly removed my hands, hearing a horrible squelch from within the hole. Bones snapped. Blood gurgled, and a wicked hiss echoed from inside. With bated breath, I slowly began to move backward.

Silence overtook the forest. The creatures feared whatever beast lay inside the hole.

“There aren’t many like you, Conner…” A low voice spoke from the hole.

A long, pale arm rose from within the hole. The fingers were blackened at the tips, and the talons ripped through the skin. Dirt rumbled beneath me, and something large shook the ground. My body began to shake as fear coursed through me. At one point, I thought that I had wet myself.

One finger gestured for me to move closer, but I didn’t dare to follow.

“Where is Jeanie?” I asked.

A low growl escaped the hole. “She found her place… She’s with her friends now.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“You need not be frightened. I am Mother Long Leg. Your smell is not palatable for my taste. While delicious, I know that you are unripe.”

I swallowed hard, feeling vomit creeping up my throat. I forced it down, refusing to put myself in a more vulnerable position to this being of the darkness.

“Conner… I will give you three more questions. Choose wisely. I do grow tired of playing games with mere mortals.”

I thought quietly, knowing that I needed to ask questions that piqued her interest without getting myself killed.

“Where did you come from?” I whispered, fearfully clutching the grass below me and expecting the worst.

“A good question…” she replied. “I came from a very different world, boy. I came from a place trapped beneath the earth. There are more beings like me, hiding within the gloaming. More of us to see. More of us to grow… More of us to starve as we wait. I was born from a thought and an inkling, birthed by that which thrives within the dark and writhes in the dampness and dank.”

I pondered for a few moments, thinking wildly for another question.

The hand inched toward me, lifeless fingers stroking my cheek. My body shook violently, and sweat beaded down my brow. It was then I saw the hairy leg emerging from the arm. The creature was wearing someone’s arm and hand, using them as gloves.

“Why did you pick Grenwich to reside?” I forced out, recoiling from the creature’s touch.

A soft chuckle trickled from the hole. “Grenwich is riddled with food. For what I am needs life to survive, but I need magic far more. You see, Grenwich is an unfortunate place. Somehow a tear in the veil between realms formed. Creatures like me flocked to this town, but not by accident. Many… many… years ago, a man ventured to Grenwich. He desired to build a superior race, mate with the unknown, and grow it without restraint. But the universe must have balance. Even it has its limits. He was successful in a way, but he let in something dangerous… something that could not be contained by death alone. He let in me…”

I slowly stood up, and the creature shifted below me. A skittering sound speckled over the ground as many hands began to crawl into the hole from all corners of the forest. One slipped over my foot, and I forced myself not to cry out or scream.

“You have one last question… Conner.”

“May I see you?” I asked, somehow sensing that she wanted me to look… to see her.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

A hand shot through the tunnel and pulled me inside. I thrashed wildly as roots scraped down my cheeks, tearing into my clothing and cutting me. I landed with a thump next to Jeanie’s body. I covered my mouth, staring down at her bent bones, broken neck, and splattered entrails. One of her eyes was gone, and one of her hands was already missing. Her left leg was backward, and her soft brown tendrils of hair were caked with blood and dirt.

A heave erupted from me before I could control myself. I quickly turned away.

“Come this way…” Mother Long Leg growled.

I followed the sound of her voice until I reached an enormous cavern. A thousand sparkling eyes met mine, as endless and unnerving as the universe. Hands continued to crawl to her, attaching to her many legs. Then, I saw her mouth. It was a gaping hole, teeth ringing around it. The teeth moved in an elliptical motion, slipping over and under the surrounding teeth. If swallowed by Mother Long Leg, you’d be ground to bits, shredded and sliced.

I never saw her eyes. I only saw the thousands that covered her. I wasn’t sure if two were her main source of vision, but I was out of questions to ask. I didn’t want to know what happened if I asked another.

Webbing stretched over each side of the cavern, providing a net for catching prey. Inside one of the webs, I saw the decayed corpse of a park ranger. His mouth hung open, and a hand began to crawl from the inside. It forced his jaw open with a horrible grinding noise. Then, covered in goopy decay and rotten blood, it fell onto the floor. Another began to emerge from his stomach. The outline of the hand pressed against his rotten flesh imprinted into my mind before it burst out and birthed itself into the cavern.

“Do not be afraid… I want to give you something.”

She pushed a new flashlight toward me. It was coated in blood; perhaps ripped from the hand that once grasped it.

I slowly took it.

“Now go before I change my mind.”

A hand surged toward me, pulled me through a different tunnel, and spit me out at the hole by our campsite. I looked around wildly, feeling something warm and wet beneath me. I flipped on the flashlight. It flickered to life, and I yelled in horror.

Parker and Sue were impaled on the trees above me. Thick branches tore through their sternums, held up by bone and wood. Parker’s hands were gone. His bloodied stumps dribbled slowly, making an incessant dripping noise that shattered my soul. His legs were torn off and placed upon the fire like wood. Sue was sewn onto him with webbing. Their mouths were sewn together. Blood dripped onto my head, and I quickly wiped it off. His eyes hung out of their sockets, lightly touching Sue’s head.

Sue’s body frightened me more. Her legs were tied together, twisted and twirled to make one large leg. Her hair was matted as if she was dragged along the forest floor while still alive.

I vomited, unable to stop myself until only green, foamy bile was left.

I tore through Jeanie’s tent, found her keys in her purse, and ran like a wild man down the path to the cars. When I reached it, I practically threw myself inside. I cranked it and began my drive to the closest police station.

My bloodied hands slipped on the steering wheel, and tears leaked down my cheeks unforgivingly. My friends were murdered like pigs and hung in the trees like puppets on strings.

MY FUCKING FRIENDS….

I looked in the rearview mirror to see a hand emerging from the forest. A single pale hand, waving as if I’d come again one day for a visit.

Life is good.

That’s what my mom always told me. She believed that life would repay you with goodness so long as you gave it back to others. I’m not sure she was right. I’ve never been sure.

“Get in the car, Conner!” Jeanie shouted. She waved at me in annoyance, trying to hurry me. Her brown rimmed glasses shone in the sunlight.

We’d been planning this trip for weeks. A full weekend with friends in Grenwich National Park. Jeanie reserved the tent spot. Parker was bringing the beer, and his girlfriend, Sue, was bringing the tents. All I had to do was contribute ten bucks to the beer fund and bring my sleeping bag.

My mom kissed my cheek before I left, hugging me tightly. “Have fun, okay? I’ll check the mail tomorrow to see if an acceptance letter came in. I’m sure one will show up.”

She smiled brightly, but my stomach was in knots. I applied to three occupational therapy programs after finals ended, and now, all I could do was wait. It was killing me. The anticipation, the fear… It shouldn’t be so hard to help people.

Jeanie lay on the horn, and I laughed. “I’m COMING!” I shouted, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and grabbing my duffle bag.

I ran out the door, slamming my hand onto Jeanie’s car. “Lay off the horn, asshole. This is a neighborhood.”

She smirked, always eager for mischief. I got into the passenger seat and kissed her cheek.

“Don’t kiss me, Conner. We made out once, and I learned my lesson.”

I chuckled to myself, knowing that Jeanie and I weren’t going to rekindle anything. But man, I do love to make fun of her about it. She and I had drunkenly made out once, but that was all.

Jeanie and I drove happily, blasting music out of her bright blue jeep. The wind whipped our faces, and the smell of summer filled our minds. Jeanie laughed over the sound of the music; tendrils of her long brown hair thrashed wildly.

When we reached Grenwich National Park, Parker and Sue were already there. They were making out viciously on the hood of Parker’s car. If we’d come any later, they wouldn’t have been clothed.

“God,” Jeanie hissed. “If I knew when I introduced them that they’d be this sickening as a couple, I wouldn’t have done it.”

Too engrossed with each other to notice us, I gave Jeanie a devious look. She nodded. I slammed on the horn. The two of them tore away from each other, and Parker immediately flipped us off.

Jeanie and I laughed hysterically.

Parker walked to the jeep and helped us unload.

“You bring three tents?” I asked Sue.

She nodded. “Of course, but you and Jeanie can always share.” She winked.

Jeanie rolled her eyes. “I think I’d rather die.”

Parker snorted. “Calm down, grumpy. It was a joke.”

Sue popped her trunk and dispersed the tent packs, making sure to load down Parker like a camel. She’d brought way too much stuff, but she’s her boyfriend’s problem. He gets to carry her crap. He gave me a help me look, and I begrudgingly took her stupidly heavy makeup bag.

And the four of us began to hike through the dense woods.

Grenwich is a nice place. I’ve grown up here my whole life. I know Grenwich like the back of my hand. The roads are practically traced lines of my palm like map markings, leading to the place I’d always called home.

Safe. Good. Calm.

After we’d hiked about an hour, we came upon the reserved spot. A red sign was staked into the ground. Jeanie’s last name was freshly stuck to the bottom.

“Praise God,” Sue said, chunking her one backpack onto the ground.

Jeanie stifled a laugh while poor Parker unloaded himself, removing at least four bags from his shoulders and around his neck. A thick red whelp was forming on his neck where a strap had dug into him.

“Geeze,” I mumbled to Parker and gestured at his bruising.

He stopped me, not wanting Sue to hear.

The group of us began to pitch our tents, fighting with the ground to stake the metal pegs into the soil. The ground was hard, dry, and aching for water.

As I staked my final metal peg into the ground, the peg fell right through the soil, swallowed by darkness below. Earth fell away, revealing a tunnel into endless night. A few pieces of dirt slipped into the darkness, descending into the hole.

“Check this out,” I said lowly.

Parker heard me and stepped away from his tent to come look. “Damn,” he whispered.

He pulled a glow stick out of his bag, cracked it, and dropped it into the hole. The glow stick fell quickly, slipping into the pitch-black. The glow slowly grew smaller. A flicker. A pinprick. Then, it was gone. I grimaced and quickly began to dig up the other pegs. I didn’t want to be sleeping anywhere near that unending tunnel.

“You’re being dramatic,” Parker said with a scoff.

“Am I?” I asked sarcastically.

Jeanie and Sue looked up from their tents.

“What is going on?” Jeanie asked, walking towards us.

Sue followed, nearly stepping into the hole. Parker pulled her back.

“Crap,” Jeanie said, poking a foot toward it. “What the fuck do you think made that?”

“A gopher,” Parker replied nonchalantly.

Jeanie shook her head. “I don’t think so. That is very deep, don’t you think?” she asked, looking up at me for confirmation.

I shrugged. “All I know is that I don’t want my tent anywhere near it. I’m happily moving over there,” I replied, pointing toward the last cleared spot by the pine trees.

Everyone else chuckled.

“You guys want to go down by the lake?” Jeanie asked. “I booked this spot because it has the easiest access to the lake.”

Sue and Parker agreed, but I shook my head.

“I’ll stay here and set up my tent… again,” I grumbled.

“I can stay back with you,” Parker said, patting my shoulder. “But that means I’d need Parker Payment…”

“Stay away from me, you sick fuck!” I hissed, backing away from him.

He chased after me anyway, cornering me between the tall grass and the massive hole. Sue and Jeanie laughed wildly, holding their stomachs as Parker tortured me. I had no choice but to face him now.

Parker Payment was something he’d come up with when we were young. Anytime he did something he considered chivalrous or in need of recognition, he requested Parker Payment. It sounds horrific, but if he catches you, he pulls your head into a chokehold and kisses your head before giving you the most painful noogie of your life. It doesn’t help that Parker is absolutely massive. He’s six foot five, fast, and incredibly strong. Parker Payment is nothing more than friendly hazing, but I hated it more than anything.

I tried to run past him, but he snatched me up, pulled me into the crook of his arm, and noogied me until I tapped out. When he let me go, I coughed, still smelling the scent of his BO and intense cologne.

“I hate you, man…” I wheezed, trying to catch my breath.

He laughed, smiling proudly to himself.

“I never even agreed to you staying!” I laughed, crossing my arms over my chest.

He smirked. “Then, you simply got a noogie to grow on. It’ll give you luck for those acceptance letters.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

“Listen, are we going to the lake or not?” Sue asked, tapping her foot.

“I’m coming,” Parker replied. “You sure you’re gonna be okay by yourself, Conner?”

I waved my hand at him, urging him to leave me be. “Yes! Just go, dude! Go enjoy the lake. I’ll be just fine.”

The three of them grabbed a water bottle and sauntered off toward the path to the lake. Meanwhile, I started on my tent again. By the time I finished fighting with the cheaply built piece of shit, it was growing dark. Nervously, I looked toward the lake. Part of me wanted to rush down the path to find them, but another part told me to stay put.

I chose to trust my gut.

I made a fire from the wood Jeanie brought from her jeep, arranging it perfectly. Then I walked into her tent to find her lighter. I couldn’t find it. I flung open the tent and sat down in front of the cold fire, knowing I’d have to wait for Jeanie to come back. She’d probably put the tiny lighter into the most inconspicuous pocket.

I rubbed through my hair, waiting patiently for my friends to return, but they never did.

When the moon kissed the sky, and the stars prayed to the earth, the frogs began to croak, singing their sweet symphonies into the night. The crickets chirped, and the locusts hummed. Fireflies glistened through the trees, beckoning me into the darkness of their realm.

Begrudgingly, I fought off my gut feeling and decided to go look for them. I grabbed my backpack from my tent and headed down the dark path. With trembling hands, I pulled my flashlight out of my bag. I’d always been a chicken. I didn’t like the dark, and it didn’t matter how old I got. I’d never feel safe at night.

Vines snaked along the bases of the trees, growing heartily stronger until they’d swallow the trunk. Mushrooms grew wildly along the path, and pieces and parts of sticks lay matted within furry lichens.

I followed the path, seeing their footprints along the way. Somehow, it gave me a sense of safety. Knowing that their steps guided mine felt comforting, in a way. As I walked, my flashlight began to flicker.

“No…” I groaned, slamming it into my palm.

Then, it went out, leaving me in the shadows and vicious thoughts of the forest’s mind.

I looked ahead. Only the moon was my guide now; perhaps she’d spur me onward. But alas, clouds shifted over her glowing face. The tufts of white feathers and glowing sweets swallowed the moon whole, drifting onto her like fingers slipping down her cheek. I stared up at the clouds above, seeing the eerie shape of a hand grasping onto the moon, clutching it fervently.

“Conner…” a voice whispered in the dark.

I froze, heart hammering into my chest.

“Conner…” it whispered again, echoing ahead of me.

I said nothing, not recognizing the voice and not daring to answer.

A soft chuckle reverberated from below me. I stumbled away from the sound, unsure exactly where I should be running to escape.

“There is no reason to be scared, Conner… I like the way you smell.”

As I continued to walk backward, a hand clasped onto my shoulder. “We’ve got to go!” Jeanie whispered.

She was soaking wet, and mud covered her clothing. Her eyes were wild and crazed. But the more I looked at her, the more hollowed out she appeared. Those didn’t look like her eyes. She didn’t look right.

“Jeanie!” I asked in confusion. “What the fuck happened?”

“Move!” she hissed.

I followed her as she led me deeper and deeper into the woods, straying from the path.

“Jeanie!”

She grabbed my arm, pulling me toward a large hole.

“JEANIE!” I yelled, ripping my arm from her grasp. I fell back to the ground, using all of my bodyweight to free myself.

Jeanie stepped inside the hole without a second thought, falling into the darkness as if she’d stepped off a diving board and into a pool below. A horrible crack echoed behind her as her body hit the ground below. I covered my ears, unable to comprehend the sound of a body breaking into a million pieces.

Fear rocked through me, knocking every nerve and fighting with my mind. I slowly removed my hands, hearing a horrible squelch from within the hole. Bones snapped. Blood gurgled, and a wicked hiss echoed from inside. With bated breath, I slowly began to move backward.

Silence overtook the forest. The creatures feared whatever beast lay inside the hole.

“There aren’t many like you, Conner…” A low voice spoke from the hole.

A long, pale arm rose from within the hole. The fingers were blackened at the tips, and the talons ripped through the skin. Dirt rumbled beneath me, and something large shook the ground. My body began to shake as fear coursed through me. At one point, I thought that I had wet myself.

One finger gestured for me to move closer, but I didn’t dare to follow.

“Where is Jeanie?” I asked.

A low growl escaped the hole. “She found her place… She’s with her friends now.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“You need not be frightened. I am Mother Long Leg. Your smell is not palatable for my taste. While delicious, I know that you are unripe.”

I swallowed hard, feeling vomit creeping up my throat. I forced it down, refusing to put myself in a more vulnerable position to this being of the darkness.

“Conner… I will give you three more questions. Choose wisely. I do grow tired of playing games with mere mortals.”

I thought quietly, knowing that I needed to ask questions that piqued her interest without getting myself killed.

“Where did you come from?” I whispered, fearfully clutching the grass below me and expecting the worst.

“A good question…” she replied. “I came from a very different world, boy. I came from a place trapped beneath the earth. There are more beings like me, hiding within the gloaming. More of us to see. More of us to grow… More of us to starve as we wait. I was born from a thought and an inkling, birthed by that which thrives within the dark and writhes in the dampness and dank.”

I pondered for a few moments, thinking wildly for another question.

The hand inched toward me, lifeless fingers stroking my cheek. My body shook violently, and sweat beaded down my brow. It was then I saw the hairy leg emerging from the arm. The creature was wearing someone’s arm and hand, using them as gloves.

“Why did you pick Grenwich to reside?” I forced out, recoiling from the creature’s touch.

A soft chuckle trickled from the hole. “Grenwich is riddled with food. For what I am needs life to survive, but I need magic far more. You see, Grenwich is an unfortunate place. Somehow a tear in the veil between realms formed. Creatures like me flocked to this town, but not by accident. Many… many… years ago, a man ventured to Grenwich. He desired to build a superior race, mate with the unknown, and grow it without restraint. But the universe must have balance. Even it has its limits. He was successful in a way, but he let in something dangerous… something that could not be contained by death alone. He let in me…”

I slowly stood up, and the creature shifted below me. A skittering sound speckled over the ground as many hands began to crawl into the hole from all corners of the forest. One slipped over my foot, and I forced myself not to cry out or scream.

“You have one last question… Conner.”

“May I see you?” I asked, somehow sensing that she wanted me to look… to see her.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

A hand shot through the tunnel and pulled me inside. I thrashed wildly as roots scraped down my cheeks, tearing into my clothing and cutting me. I landed with a thump next to Jeanie’s body. I covered my mouth, staring down at her bent bones, broken neck, and splattered entrails. One of her eyes was gone, and one of her hands was already missing. Her left leg was backward, and her soft brown tendrils of hair were caked with blood and dirt.

A heave erupted from me before I could control myself. I quickly turned away.

“Come this way…” Mother Long Leg growled.

I followed the sound of her voice until I reached an enormous cavern. A thousand sparkling eyes met mine, as endless and unnerving as the universe. Hands continued to crawl to her, attaching to her many legs. Then, I saw her mouth. It was a gaping hole, teeth ringing around it. The teeth moved in an elliptical motion, slipping over and under the surrounding teeth. If swallowed by Mother Long Leg, you’d be ground to bits, shredded and sliced.

I never saw her eyes. I only saw the thousands that covered her. I wasn’t sure if two were her main source of vision, but I was out of questions to ask. I didn’t want to know what happened if I asked another.

Webbing stretched over each side of the cavern, providing a net for catching prey. Inside one of the webs, I saw the decayed corpse of a park ranger. His mouth hung open, and a hand began to crawl from the inside. It forced his jaw open with a horrible grinding noise. Then, covered in goopy decay and rotten blood, it fell onto the floor. Another began to emerge from his stomach. The outline of the hand pressed against his rotten flesh imprinted into my mind before it burst out and birthed itself into the cavern.

“Do not be afraid… I want to give you something.”

She pushed a new flashlight toward me. It was coated in blood; perhaps ripped from the hand that once grasped it.

I slowly took it.

“Now go before I change my mind.”

A hand surged toward me, pulled me through a different tunnel, and spit me out at the hole by our campsite. I looked around wildly, feeling something warm and wet beneath me. I flipped on the flashlight. It flickered to life, and I yelled in horror.

Parker and Sue were impaled on the trees above me. Thick branches tore through their sternums, held up by bone and wood. Parker’s hands were gone. His bloodied stumps dribbled slowly, making an incessant dripping noise that shattered my soul. His legs were torn off and placed upon the fire like wood. Sue was sewn onto him with webbing. Their mouths were sewn together. Blood dripped onto my head, and I quickly wiped it off. His eyes hung out of their sockets, lightly touching Sue’s head.

Sue’s body frightened me more. Her legs were tied together, twisted and twirled to make one large leg. Her hair was matted as if she was dragged along the forest floor while still alive.

I vomited, unable to stop myself until only green, foamy bile was left.

I tore through Jeanie’s tent, found her keys in her purse, and ran like a wild man down the path to the cars. When I reached it, I practically threw myself inside. I cranked it and began my drive to the closest police station.

My bloodied hands slipped on the steering wheel, and tears leaked down my cheeks unforgivingly. My friends were murdered like pigs and hung in the trees like puppets on strings.

MY FUCKING FRIENDS….

I looked in the rearview mirror to see a hand emerging from the forest. A single pale hand, waving as if I’d come again one day for a visit.

So, I'm usually a writer and a lurker. I'm a consumer of the written word like many of you. I'll read your stories and always comment. But there are some awesome people that I'd like to give some love and positivity to.

u/mackaroll_165 creates some WONDERFUL stories that are sure to knock your socks off, but something more wonderful about this creator is their constant positivity. They comment, interact, and find many ways to make you feel included. Can't thank this creator enough for their contribution to this community and many more.

Check out their story: There's something wrong with my neighbors

It was recently covered on the u/MezoScalePodcast

Another creator that I'd like to shoutout is a particularly spooky writer! u/SaintDroxidious

Also, check out their story: The Fall

The fall is awesome! I was on my toes the whole time! 10/10 read and definitely worth your time. Got an audible screech out of me!

Check out u/NarrowDirector911 Their story: My Mother Made Us Run Down Hallways at Night

It is chefs kiss in the most terrifying way possible. Great read! Big fan! That story stuck with me, and now I catch myself running down hallways in fear. It lingered...

Check out: u/RevolutionaryBed7510 and their story: The Soil Stopped Accepting the Dead

That story hit every single nerve while I was reading it. 10/10, best and most delicious dorrito.

For my final shoutout on my humble one post for 24 hours, I will tell you to go read The Axe-Wielder by u/walkerbswitchinghour

You simply will NOT regret reading that story.

Thank you to all of the readers and writers that make Tales From The Creeps amazing, accepting, spooky, and incredibly witty. Keep Creeping and Happy Writing 😄

Slow and steady wins the race.
Well, that’s what my mama said.

So I took my time,
And chose the shed.
So no one would notice,
John had been misled.

With luring and longing,
I watched from afar.
Eyes like sapphires,
Glowing in the dawn.

When left is right,
And up is down.
And smiles turn to frowns.
No one missed John’s pretty head.

It disappeared on Thursday.
In probably the worst way.
When the moon was full and high,
And the stars had dwindled to dread.

I took my time with each round slice.
Quiet and gnawing,
With subtle, soft sawing,
Cutting through thought and thread.

He wasn’t much to look at,
Much to linger or think on.
He looked much better,
But only when he bled.

His skin cut like butter,
And his bones broke,
And spine.
Flesh sliced and shred,
Dangled on a line.

Slow and steady wins the race.
Well, that’s what my mama said.

So I took my time,
And chose the shed.
So no one would notice,
John’s missing head.

And I took my time,
Committed my loving crime.
Perhaps and only,
They’ll forget about him instead.

I did something dangerous… Something that will change the course of my life. I don’t know if I made the right choice, or if I’ve put myself in more danger. But now, I have a family.

Foxglove, Loop, and I ran through the night, guided by the waxing gibbous moon. The air was damp, sitting thickly around us as we rushed through the darkness. Fog swelled from the woods and leaked through the circus grounds. I could feel every tendril of hope flitting from my body the closer we got to the tent. It was back where I first found it, returned to the place that started it all.

The three of us stopped outside of it, and immediately, I heard squealing from inside. I cringed at the piercing sound, grimacing as it grew louder and louder. Bravely, I put my foot forward and stepped into the tent, leaving Foxglove and Loop to wait for my signal.

I hid in the shadows of the tent before finding a barrel to crouch behind. I leaned over the side, watching as Mr. Ophthalm and the Ringmaster strapped down the chameleon girl, chaining her to a wooden board. Her eyes darted in different directions, mouth gaping wide as a horrible squeal echoed from her.

Madam Mystique stood in the center of the room, picking at her fingernails. Beside her, the crystal ball was propped on a metal stand. The eye flicked back and forth, moving within the liquid that kept it suspended in the glass.

“Let’s get this over with,” Madam Mystique growled. “When we get to the next town, I want enough paper to get at least seven more recruits.” She licked her lips. “I wonder if we’ll get another chicken out of it. That last boy was so delicious… Everyone loved dinner that night.”

I covered my mouth with my hand, thinking back to the mystery meat. It wasn’t a mystery anymore. We were eating dead carnies, freaks that Madam Mystique deemed edible.

Mr. Ophthalm chuckled to himself. “The last few freaks have been reptiles or useless, inedible fish.” He gestured toward the puffer fish boy in the tank.

“What about the newt?” Madam Mystique asked, turning to look at the Ringmaster.

He was too busy thumbing over the chameleon girl’s soft arms to even realize she was speaking to him.

“Ringmaster…” she hissed. “What did you do with the boy?”

The Ringmaster ran a claw down the girl’s leg. “Oh… You won’t have to worry about him for long…”

Madam Mystique smirked. “It’s that invisibility thing he can do, isn’t it? Pique your interest? We haven’t ever seen a talent like his in nearly a hundred years.”

The Ringmaster chuckled to himself, brushing through the girl’s hair. “I think he’ll make an excellent cloak for myself. And the scraps will be perfect for a doll… And for his body… that I will consume myself. Nothing appeases me more than the frightened flesh of children. Nothing will go wasted.”

He glared down at the girl, salivating and swallowing quickly. “Nothing ever goes wasted in a circus.”

The poor girl understood every word he spoke, and she began to squirm in her bindings. A mournful cry crept up from her throat, and she fought with every fiber of her being, making welts on her arms and legs as they strung her up like a puppet.

“Hoist her up,” Madam Mystique shouted. “It is time to bleed her. That paper needs to be good and dry.”

Mr. Ophthalm cranked a lever, and the poor girl began to rise up on the wooden board.

The boy in the tank began to swell, anxiety taking hold of him. His body filled with air, spikes protruding out and knocking into the glass. He stared at the ceiling, not wanting to watch his friend die. The toad boy began to croak loudly, unable to stop himself. His throat ballooned out and sucked back in quickly as he breathed. His eyes blinked rapidly. He couldn’t stand to watch either, but he was forcing himself to.

The Ringmaster grabbed her throat, and fear swelled into me. The voice of Mrs. Beth rang through my mind, just like your parents… worthless and stupid.

I stared around, holding tightly to the barrel I hid behind. My fingernails dug into the wood, gripping tightly to reality instead of the mind games that the Ringmaster was inflicting upon me.

But it wasn’t the Ringmaster at all. The eye suspended in the crystal ball was gazing at me, unwavering. It focused upon me, and I could feel it probing through my memories, selecting the ones that pained me the most.

And you’ll wind up just like them, won’t you? Strung out… lying in the street for everyone to see.

STOP CRYING! No one wants to listen to that racket!

Who do you think you are, Erik? You’re sixteen years old. NO ONE WANTS YOU! Why do you think you ended up here?

You will grow up and end up right back on the street. You’re trash, Erik… Trash… Just like your family.

You have no one, and you’ll never have a family. No one has even considered adopting you. You have nothing aside from your name. That’s all…

“ENOUGH!” I shouted.

I stood before the three fools could stop me, and I ran through the tent. I ripped the crystal ball from its stand and threw it onto the ground. It shattered, and a blinding burst of light threw us all to the ground. Glass rained upon us, and a deafening scream filled the tent.

“NO!” Mr. Ophthalm wailed.

But it was too late. The eye was shriveling, deflating like a balloon on the ground.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!” he cried, kneeling on the floor to caress the dying eye.

But Mr. Ophthalm was melting. His skin was sloughing off him in bloody red piles. The stitches that held each flap of skin to him dissolved. His many eyes were gumballs, falling from their holes and rolling away. He screamed in agony, clutching his skin. He reached toward me, fingers stretching toward me. But it melted into bone, and all that remained of Mr. Ophthalm was a pile of sizzling, bloody slime.

“Ah… Eftling, I wondered when you would find your way out,” the Ringmaster whispered, grinning from ear to ear.

“No thanks to you…”

He simply grinned, getting up and walking toward me. He grabbed my shirt, pulling me off the ground. My feet dangled under me, but I was no longer frightened of him. He is only a monster in the dark… and all you have to do is turn on the light… or, in my case, send in poison.

Foxglove took the blinding light as her signal. Vines tore through the ground beneath the Ringmaster, latching onto him and dragging him to the ground. I slammed to the ground, rubbing my neck as I stood.

Madam Mystique made a mad dash for the door, but Loop shot through the tent, grabbing Madam Mystique and tossing her into an empty cage.

“FILTHY ANIMALS!” Madam Mystique screamed.

Loop snickered. “I wouldn’t say that here if I were you.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks as I pulled myself off the floor, watching as the vines wrapped tighter and tighter around the Ringmaster. He gnashed his teeth, violently thrashing beneath the vines. I bent down to him, and as Mother Long Leg instructed, I removed his hat. Strings held the hat in place, and as I pulled each string, an arm or a leg moved. The hat was controlling him.

Foxglove reached through the vines and opened the Ringmaster’s coat. The scissors were stowed away in his inside pocket. Foxglove tore them out and handed them to me.

“DON’T!” the Ringmaster screeched. “DON’T LET ME DIE! PLEASE!”

Foxglove slithered a vine down his throat. It tore through his teeth and mouth, wrenching his jaw open wider and wider as the foliage crammed into him. His eyes bulged, and his throat gurgled. She shook her head, but behind her eyes, rage grew violently. I thought about the flower that ripped out of her each morning, the pain she felt each day, and the terror that ebbed through her.

The Ringmaster and Madam Mystique didn’t care that her new form nearly killed her. They didn’t care that she sobbed each morning, begging to die through each birthing of the Venus flytrap. They didn’t give a damn. She was free labor, and that was all that ever mattered.

With shaking hands, I cut each string on the Ringmaster’s head, watching as the maniacal puppet began to die. With a final heave, I stabbed the scissors into his chest, and his body began to rot.

I jumped back. Insects seeped out of him, beetles and roaches, maggots and worms. The Ringmaster was nothing more than compost on the inside, a decaying hunk of wood. And nestled within the dirt and insect feces, a heart lay thumping. The heart was as black as coal, rocking on the ground, still pulsating with life.

Foxglove reached down to touch it, but Loop stopped her. “Don’t,” he whispered.

I reached down to scoop it up with a broken piece of glass, but a rumble shook the ground beneath us. The entire tent began to quiver. A hole opened beneath the heart, and it fell into the darkness… thumping… all… the… way… down…

I grabbed the hat, pulling it out of the pile of insects and wiping off the dirt. The Ringmaster was gone, and in the end, he was nothing more than a squished spider, congealing into a pile of filth.

I stood up, watching as Foxglove and Loop unlocked the cages and helped the teens. The chameleon girl ran to me, flinging her arms around me, not caring that goo from my skin would undoubtedly cover her own scaley flesh. She looked up at me gratefully, still unable to speak. But her actions spoke loudly. She didn’t need words.

A loud wail broke the silence around us. I whipped my head around to see Madam Mystique. She was rapidly aging, skin sagging and falling from her bones.

“THE HAT!” She screeched, lips falling off of her mouth.

More loud cries and screams erupted from outside. I ran to the edge of the tent, ripping back the fabric in confusion. The older carnies were beginning to collapse. The burly strong man fell to his knees right in front of me. His skin was bubbling and popping. His eyes dripped from their sockets, and his mouth hung open at an awkward angle.

“What have you done?” he whispered before crumbling into bone.

Mounds of ash were strewn across the circus grounds. Fleshy blobs and tangles of hair and teeth lay scattered around the tent as they tried to find the Ringmaster. Many were blindly running into each other; soft flesh melding with each other as they collided.

I looked down at the hat in my hand, and Loop nodded. Somehow, we both knew before Foxglove and before anyone.

“The hat…” I breathed. “They’re dying…”

The crocodile man ran into the center of the circus grounds; eyes wide and teeth bared. He turned to face me as his teeth began to fall from his mouth, thumping onto the ground. His claws slipped from his hands as his fingers began to rot. His skin turned a ghastly purple, and he began to swell.

Foxglove shrieked, grabbing onto her brother’s arm in fear.

The crocodile man stretched out a bloated arm, reaching toward the lip of the tent as we backed away. His skin began to weep, dark purple liquid seeping from within him. Pustules erupted across his flesh, popping like bubbles upon him. Then, with a deep breath, he burst. Flesh, bile, blood, and purple goo coated us. I barely closed my mouth in time.

Loop gagged and began to vomit. The smell was heinous, seeping into our clothes and coating the entire tent in a putrid rotten fish odor.

“We have to do something!” Loop yelled, smearing vomit off his mouth and purple goop.

I stepped over the crocodile man’s body and stared outside in horror. Half-decomposed carnies limped to the tent, crying out in agony. Their limbs were dripping off, falling to the ground, and fading into the soil beneath them. Their eyes were burning from their sockets, and their vital organs began to leak from their abdomens.

“There must be a Ringmaster,” Loop whispered, turning to look at me. “He must be the tether for their power… He is what keeps them alive.”

“Not all of them are bad!” Foxglove shouted. “We can’t let them all die!”

The pig man squealed as he reached the tent. His eyes were beginning to leak, and through gurgled cries he begged for help.

I turned to look at Loop and Foxglove, my only friends and… family.

I lifted the hat. My decision was easy. My choice was one made out of love. A selfless choice that my parents once made for me… a choice to let them go without me.

“What are you doing!” Loop yelled.

I placed the hat upon my head, and my neck locked into place as the strings tore through my body. A guttural cry exploded out of me. The pain was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I could feel the strings pouring into every single muscle. I could envision the tight cords ripping through arteries and veins, changing me from the inside.

My eyes burst open, and I tore off my goggles. Blinding lights emitted from them, and I dropped to the ground in agony. Blood poured out of my fingers, eyes, and ears. It crept up from my throat as blood and bile poured from within me. I vomited up my stomach and my lungs first. Then, the rest slid out of me in a tumble of congealed structures and fleshy pieces.

“ERIK!” Foxglove screamed.

Without caring, she wrapped her arms around me, crying and begging me to live.

The world around me began to spin. Snippets of my life paraded across my mind, but suddenly, they were more vibrant than the day I experienced them. Maybe they were preparing me for the new life ahead of me. The new journey that broke my bones and spoiled my insides.

The life that I once knew was over. I was changing again, but this time, the power ripped through me, forming a new being. Like electricity, I could feel the potential rising to the surface. The magic and pure chaos that came from the mastery of shows and beguiled audiences tore through my flesh like needles piercing thick skin. I was no longer a coward. I was something else. Something born from courage and sadness. Though existing separately, when combined, a creature beyond comprehension can grow.

A Ringmaster…

*************

“COME ON!” Lillian shouted, dragging Lucas behind her as he scarfed down a corndog. “I DON’T WANT TO MISS IT!”

Between muffled bites, Lucas replied, “But… I’m HUNGRY.”

She dragged Lucas into the tent and sat in the front row.

I spotted the pair before they’d even entered the tent, smelled them. And as I stared at them in their human forms, they really did look alike. Same honey blonde hair and freckles. I smiled.

“Are you ready?” asked Spirilla.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I whispered.

Her shining black leotard glittered under the lights. She smiled at me, patting my back. “You’ve done good, you know… The circus has never been more profitable, and the crowds have loved your appearances in the show.” Her thin spider legs clicked onto the floor. “We’ve never been happier.”

I shrugged, placing the top hat upon my head once more. My arms clicked into place, star-covered jacket freshly dry-cleaned.

Showtime…

One of the fairy girls laughed, shoving me out of the curtain before I was ready. I stumbled into the blinding lights and the crowd went crazy. I bowed. No longer invisible, terrified of being perceived, or afraid of the world, I stood before it proudly, bearing my newt form without fear.

“WELCOME TO THE CIRQUE OF QUIRKS: FEAST YOUR FANTACIES, OPEN YOUR MIND, AND GAZE UPON THE UNIQUE AND STRANGE CREATURES IN MY COLLECTION! MY NAME IS ERIK, AND I WILL BE YOUR GUIDE FOR TONIGHT!”

Multicolored lights swarmed around the room, balloons fell from the ceiling, and I fixed my goggles to see a little better. I winked at Lillian and Lucas. Lillian grinned from ear to ear, cheering loudly and clapping. Lucas crossed his arms and sat back in his seat. He laughed to himself.

You may be wondering how I got here, and truthfully, it wasn’t easy. When I took the hat, it became mine. It no longer answered to anyone else. It was mine and mine alone. And when I killed the Ringmaster, someone had to take his place. The hat’s power was pure and endless, reaching for its next successor. Me…

Many of the oldest and most wretched carnies met their demise, but others managed to survive. And with a new hand to guide them, a new circus rose from the ashes. They needed a new leader, and somehow, I fit the bill. They needed someone who didn’t force them to turn or hurt children… or eat them. I released those who wanted to leave and burned their contracts. But for those that remained, I remade the show, showcasing the unique, strange, and incredible quirks that each freak had to offer. And slowly, we became friends. But then we became family… and for once in my life, I was accepted.

I don’t know if I’ll be the ringmaster forever, but I do know that I found a place to call home. It is dangerous, wild, and full of adventure, but you get used to it. Occasionally, I feel Mother Long Leg move beneath the ground when I return to Grenwich, and I wonder if she knew my future. Maybe she did, but I still wonder what she did with that heart. I’d dread to know… Sometimes I think I hear it.

And as for Madam Mystique, you don’t wanna know what happened to her… She got exactly what she deserved. That’s all I’ll say.

This is my final update, friends. Should you hear from me again, it’ll be to tell a good story, to write a new ending, or offer a warm greeting. I’m not lonely anymore. I’ve found a place where I belong. But should you ever find yourself searching for something more, the circus is always looking for new… talent.

Part One: https://www.reddit.com/r/creepypasta/comments/1ufqotl/the_cirque_of_quirks_a_feast_for_freaks/

Part Two: https://www.reddit.com/r/creepypasta/comments/1ugnh6u/the_cirque_of_quirks_a_feast_for_freaks_part_two/

Part Three: https://www.reddit.com/r/creepypasta/comments/1uj4ndi/the_cirque_of_quirks_a_feast_for_freaks_part_three/

Part Four: https://www.reddit.com/r/creepypasta/comments/1uk2gj3/the_cirque_of_quirks_a_feast_for_freaks_part_four/

Part Five: https://www.reddit.com/r/creepypasta/comments/1ul3mwx/the_cirque_of_quirks_a_feast_for_freaks_part_five/

I did something dangerous… Something that will change the course of my life. I don’t know if I made the right choice, or if I’ve put myself in more danger. But now, I have a family.

Foxglove, Loop, and I ran through the night, guided by the waxing gibbous moon. The air was damp, sitting thickly around us as we rushed through the darkness. Fog swelled from the woods and leaked through the circus grounds. I could feel every tendril of hope flitting from my body the closer we got to the tent. It was back where I first found it, returned to the place that started it all.

The three of us stopped outside of it, and immediately, I heard squealing from inside. I cringed at the piercing sound, grimacing as it grew louder and louder. Bravely, I put my foot forward and stepped into the tent, leaving Foxglove and Loop to wait for my signal.

I hid in the shadows of the tent before finding a barrel to crouch behind. I leaned over the side, watching as Mr. Ophthalm and the Ringmaster strapped down the chameleon girl, chaining her to a wooden board. Her eyes darted in different directions, mouth gaping wide as a horrible squeal echoed from her.

Madam Mystique stood in the center of the room, picking at her fingernails. Beside her, the crystal ball was propped on a metal stand. The eye flicked back and forth, moving within the liquid that kept it suspended in the glass.

“Let’s get this over with,” Madam Mystique growled. “When we get to the next town, I want enough paper to get at least seven more recruits.” She licked her lips. “I wonder if we’ll get another chicken out of it. That last boy was so delicious… Everyone loved dinner that night.”

I covered my mouth with my hand, thinking back to the mystery meat. It wasn’t a mystery anymore. We were eating dead carnies, freaks that Madam Mystique deemed edible.

Mr. Ophthalm chuckled to himself. “The last few freaks have been reptiles or useless, inedible fish.” He gestured toward the puffer fish boy in the tank.

“What about the newt?” Madam Mystique asked, turning to look at the Ringmaster.

He was too busy thumbing over the chameleon girl’s soft arms to even realize she was speaking to him.

“Ringmaster…” she hissed. “What did you do with the boy?”

The Ringmaster ran a claw down the girl’s leg. “Oh… You won’t have to worry about him for long…”

Madam Mystique smirked. “It’s that invisibility thing he can do, isn’t it? Pique your interest? We haven’t ever seen a talent like his in nearly a hundred years.”

The Ringmaster chuckled to himself, brushing through the girl’s hair. “I think he’ll make an excellent cloak for myself. And the scraps will be perfect for a doll… And for his body… that I will consume myself. Nothing appeases me more than the frightened flesh of children. Nothing will go wasted.”

He glared down at the girl, salivating and swallowing quickly. “Nothing ever goes wasted in a circus.”

The poor girl understood every word he spoke, and she began to squirm in her bindings. A mournful cry crept up from her throat, and she fought with every fiber of her being, making welts on her arms and legs as they strung her up like a puppet.

“Hoist her up,” Madam Mystique shouted. “It is time to bleed her. That paper needs to be good and dry.”

Mr. Ophthalm cranked a lever, and the poor girl began to rise up on the wooden board.

The boy in the tank began to swell, anxiety taking hold of him. His body filled with air, spikes protruding out and knocking into the glass. He stared at the ceiling, not wanting to watch his friend die. The toad boy began to croak loudly, unable to stop himself. His throat ballooned out and sucked back in quickly as he breathed. His eyes blinked rapidly. He couldn’t stand to watch either, but he was forcing himself to.

The Ringmaster grabbed her throat, and fear swelled into me. The voice of Mrs. Beth rang through my mind, just like your parents… worthless and stupid.

I stared around, holding tightly to the barrel I hid behind. My fingernails dug into the wood, gripping tightly to reality instead of the mind games that the Ringmaster was inflicting upon me.

But it wasn’t the Ringmaster at all. The eye suspended in the crystal ball was gazing at me, unwavering. It focused upon me, and I could feel it probing through my memories, selecting the ones that pained me the most.

And you’ll wind up just like them, won’t you? Strung out… lying in the street for everyone to see.

STOP CRYING! No one wants to listen to that racket!

Who do you think you are, Erik? You’re sixteen years old. NO ONE WANTS YOU! Why do you think you ended up here?

You will grow up and end up right back on the street. You’re trash, Erik… Trash… Just like your family.

You have no one, and you’ll never have a family. No one has even considered adopting you. You have nothing aside from your name. That’s all…

“ENOUGH!” I shouted.

I stood before the three fools could stop me, and I ran through the tent. I ripped the crystal ball from its stand and threw it onto the ground. It shattered, and a blinding burst of light threw us all to the ground. Glass rained upon us, and a deafening scream filled the tent.

“NO!” Mr. Ophthalm wailed.

But it was too late. The eye was shriveling, deflating like a balloon on the ground.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!” he cried, kneeling on the floor to caress the dying eye.

But Mr. Ophthalm was melting. His skin was sloughing off him in bloody red piles. The stitches that held each flap of skin to him dissolved. His many eyes were gumballs, falling from their holes and rolling away. He screamed in agony, clutching his skin. He reached toward me, fingers stretching. But his hand melted into bone, and all that remained of Mr. Ophthalm was a pile of sizzling, bloody slime.

“Ah… Eftling, I wondered when you would find your way out,” the Ringmaster whispered, grinning from ear to ear.

“No thanks to you…”

He simply grinned, getting up and walking toward me. He grabbed my shirt, pulling me off the ground. My feet dangled under me, but I was no longer frightened of him. He is only a monster in the dark… and all you have to do is turn on the light… or, in my case, send in poison.

Foxglove took the blinding light as her signal. Vines tore through the ground beneath the Ringmaster, latching onto him and dragging him to the ground. I slammed to the floor, rubbing my neck as I stood.

Madam Mystique made a mad dash for the door, but Loop shot through the tent, grabbing Madam Mystique and tossing her into an empty cage.

“FILTHY ANIMALS!” Madam Mystique screamed.

Loop snickered. “I wouldn’t say that here if I were you.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks as I pulled myself off the floor, watching as the vines wrapped tighter and tighter around the Ringmaster. He gnashed his teeth, violently thrashing beneath the vines. I bent down to him, and as Mother Long Leg instructed, I removed his hat. Strings held the hat in place, and as I pulled each string, an arm or a leg moved. The hat was controlling him.

Foxglove reached through the vines and opened the Ringmaster’s coat. The scissors were stowed away in his inside pocket. Foxglove tore them out and handed them to me.

“DON’T!” the Ringmaster screeched. “DON’T LET ME DIE! PLEASE!”

Foxglove slithered a vine down his throat. It tore through his teeth and mouth, wrenching his jaw open wider and wider as the foliage crammed into him. His eyes bulged, and his throat gurgled. She shook her head, but behind her eyes, rage grew violently. I thought about the flower that ripped out of her each morning, the pain she felt each day, and the terror that ebbed through her.

The Ringmaster and Madam Mystique didn’t care that her new form nearly killed her. They didn’t care that she sobbed each morning, begging to die through each birthing of the Venus flytrap. They didn’t give a damn. She was free labor, and that was all that ever mattered.

With shaking hands, I cut each string on the Ringmaster’s head, watching as the maniacal puppet began to die. With a final heave, I stabbed the scissors into his chest, and his body began to rot.

I jumped back. Insects seeped out of him, beetles and roaches, maggots and worms. The Ringmaster was nothing more than compost on the inside, a decaying hunk of wood. And nestled within the dirt and insect feces, a heart lay thumping. The heart was as black as coal, rocking on the ground, still pulsating with life.

Foxglove reached down to touch it, but Loop stopped her. “Don’t,” he whispered.

I reached down to scoop it up with a broken piece of glass, but a rumble shook the ground beneath us. The entire tent began to quiver. A hole opened beneath the heart, and it fell into the darkness… thumping… all… the… way… down…

I grabbed the hat, pulling it out of the pile of insects and wiping off the dirt. The Ringmaster was gone, and in the end, he was nothing more than a squished spider, congealing into a pile of filth.

I stood up, watching as Foxglove and Loop unlocked the cages and helped the teens. The chameleon girl ran to me, flinging her arms around me, not caring that goo from my skin would undoubtedly cover her own scaley flesh. She looked up at me gratefully, still unable to speak. But her actions spoke loudly. She didn’t need words.

A loud wail broke the silence around us. I whipped my head around to see Madam Mystique. She was rapidly aging, skin sagging and falling from her bones.

“THE HAT!” She screeched, lips falling off of her mouth.

More loud cries and screams erupted from outside. I ran to the edge of the tent, ripping back the fabric in confusion. The older carnies were beginning to collapse. The burly strong man fell to his knees right in front of me. His skin was bubbling and popping. His eyes dripped from their sockets, and his mouth hung open at an awkward angle.

“What have you done?” he whispered before crumbling into bone.

Mounds of ash were strewn across the circus grounds. Fleshy blobs and tangles of hair and teeth lay scattered around the tent as they tried to find the Ringmaster. Many were blindly running into each other; soft flesh melding with each other as they collided.

I looked down at the hat in my hand, and Loop nodded. Somehow, we both knew before Foxglove and before anyone.

“The hat…” I breathed. “They’re dying…”

The crocodile man ran into the center of the circus grounds; eyes wide and teeth bared. He turned to face me as his teeth began to fall from his mouth, thumping onto the ground. His claws slipped from his hands as his fingers began to rot. His skin turned a ghastly purple, and he began to swell.

Foxglove shrieked, grabbing onto her brother’s arm in fear.

The crocodile man stretched out a bloated arm, reaching toward the lip of the tent as we backed away. His skin began to weep, dark purple liquid seeping from within him. Pustules erupted across his flesh, popping like bubbles upon him. Then, with a deep breath, he burst. Flesh, bile, blood, and purple goo coated us. I barely closed my mouth in time.

Loop gagged and began to vomit. The smell was heinous, seeping into our clothes and coating the entire tent in a putrid rotten fish odor.

“We have to do something!” Loop yelled, smearing vomit off his mouth and purple goop.

I stepped over the crocodile man’s body and stared outside in horror. Half-decomposed carnies limped to the tent, crying out in agony. Their limbs were dripping off, falling to the ground, and fading into the soil beneath them. Their eyes were burning from their sockets, and their vital organs began to leak from their abdomens.

“There must be a Ringmaster,” Loop whispered, turning to look at me. “He must be the tether for their power… He is what keeps them alive.”

“Not all of them are bad!” Foxglove shouted. “We can’t let them all die!”

The pig man squealed as he reached the tent. His eyes were beginning to leak, and through gurgled cries he begged for help.

I turned to look at Loop and Foxglove, my only friends and… family.

I lifted the hat. My decision was easy. My choice was one made out of love. A selfless choice that my parents once made for me… a choice to let them go without me.

“What are you doing!” Loop yelled.

I placed the hat upon my head, and my neck locked into place as the strings tore through my body. A guttural cry exploded out of me. The pain was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I could feel the strings pouring into every single muscle. I could envision the tight cords ripping through arteries and veins, changing me from the inside.

My eyes burst open, and I tore off my goggles. Blinding lights emitted from them, and I dropped to the ground in agony. Blood poured out of my fingers, eyes, and ears. It crept up from my throat as blood and bile poured from within me. I vomited up my stomach and my lungs first. Then, the rest slid out of me in a tumble of congealed structures and fleshy pieces.

“ERIK!” Foxglove screamed.

Without caring, she wrapped her arms around me, crying and begging me to live.

The world around me began to spin. Snippets of my life paraded across my mind, but suddenly, they were more vibrant than the day I experienced them. Maybe they were preparing me for the new life ahead of me. The new journey that broke my bones and spoiled my insides.

The life that I once knew was over. I was changing again, but this time, the power ripped through me, forming a new being. Like electricity, I could feel the potential rising to the surface. The magic and pure chaos that came from the mastery of shows and beguiled audiences tore through my flesh like needles piercing thick skin. I was no longer a coward. I was something else. Something born from courage and sadness. Though existing separately, when combined, a creature beyond comprehension can grow.

A Ringmaster…

*************

“COME ON!” Lillian shouted, dragging Lucas behind her as he scarfed down a corndog. “I DON’T WANT TO MISS IT!”

Between muffled bites, Lucas replied, “But… I’m HUNGRY.”

She dragged Lucas into the tent and sat in the front row.

I spotted the pair before they’d even entered the tent, smelled them. And as I stared at them in their human forms, they really did look alike. Same honey blonde hair and freckles. I smiled.

“Are you ready?” asked Spirilla.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I whispered.

Her shining black leotard glittered under the lights. She smiled at me, patting my back. “You’ve done good, you know… The circus has never been more profitable, and the crowds have loved your appearances in the show.” Her thin spider legs clicked onto the floor. “We’ve never been happier.”

I shrugged, placing the top hat upon my head once more. My arms clicked into place, star-covered jacket freshly dry-cleaned.

Showtime…

One of the fairy girls laughed, shoving me out of the curtain before I was ready. I stumbled into the blinding lights and the crowd went crazy. I bowed. No longer invisible, terrified of being perceived, or afraid of the world, I stood before it proudly, bearing my newt form without fear.

“WELCOME TO THE CIRQUE OF QUIRKS: FEAST YOUR FANTACIES, OPEN YOUR MIND, AND GAZE UPON THE UNIQUE AND STRANGE CREATURES IN MY COLLECTION! MY NAME IS ERIK, AND I WILL BE YOUR GUIDE FOR TONIGHT!”

Multicolored lights swarmed around the room, balloons fell from the ceiling, and I fixed my goggles to see a little better. I winked at Lillian and Lucas. Lillian grinned from ear to ear, cheering loudly and clapping. Lucas crossed his arms and sat back in his seat. He laughed to himself.

You may be wondering how I got here, and truthfully, it wasn’t easy. When I took the hat, it became mine. It no longer answered to anyone else. It was mine and mine alone. And when I killed the Ringmaster, someone had to take his place. The hat’s power was pure and endless, reaching for its next successor. Me…

Many of the oldest and most wretched carnies met their demise, but others managed to survive. And with a new hand to guide them, a new circus rose from the ashes. They needed a new leader, and somehow, I fit the bill. They needed someone who didn’t force them to turn or hurt children… or eat them. I released those who wanted to leave and burned their contracts. But for those that remained, I remade the show, showcasing the unique, strange, and incredible quirks that each freak had to offer. And slowly, we became friends. But then we became family… and for once in my life, I was accepted.

I don’t know if I’ll be the ringmaster forever, but I do know that I found a place to call home. It is dangerous, wild, and full of adventure, but you get used to it. Occasionally, I feel Mother Long Leg move beneath the ground when I return to Grenwich, and I wonder if she knew my future. Maybe she did, but I still wonder what she did with that heart. I’d dread to know… Sometimes I think I hear it.

And as for Madam Mystique, you don’t wanna know what happened to her… She got exactly what she deserved. That’s all I’ll say.

This is my final update, friends. Should you hear from me again, it’ll be to tell a good story, to write a new ending, or offer a warm greeting. I’m not lonely anymore. I’ve found a place where I belong. But should you ever find yourself searching for something more, the circus is always looking for new… talent.

Part One: https://www.reddit.com/r/TalesFromTheCreeps/comments/1ufqnny/the_cirque_of_quirks_a_feast_for_freaks/

Part Two: https://www.reddit.com/r/TalesFromTheCreeps/comments/1ugndu4/the_cirque_of_quirks_a_feast_for_freaks_part_two/

Part Three: https://www.reddit.com/r/TalesFromTheCreeps/comments/1uj4dmn/the_cirque_of_quirks_a_feast_for_freaks_part_three/

Part Four: https://www.reddit.com/r/TalesFromTheCreeps/comments/1uk2bjq/the_cirque_of_quirks_a_feast_for_freaks_part_four/

Part Five: https://www.reddit.com/r/TalesFromTheCreeps/comments/1ul3f04/the_cirque_of_quirks_a_feast_for_freaks_part_five/