Those who were taken...
They never came back, dragged beneath the waves never to return.
Their haunting screams were a symbol of their horrific deaths.
Like shadows they lay in wait, the deep blue waters hiding them from view.
With sharp claws they...
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~•~
The creature begins his ascent from the ocean's floor, the medicinal seaweed held loosly in his hand. If he wants the human girl to survive, it seems he will have to do a bit of work.
Aside from being vile, vicious creatures, he also realizes humans are very needy. He knew the human would need food to survive, so he provided it. But what else did she need? Water, she had said. Fruit...anything. His kind did not require such things.
Such puny creatures. They couldn't even drink from the ocean! It was indeed water, last time he checked. And so he set about tending to her needs, all the while wondering why he didn't kill her when he had the chance.
He isn't sure why he didn't eat her. Yes, eat her, as that's what his kind tend to do to the humans. He had been watching her from the water for quite some time before the storm. One could say he was stalking her. And indeed he was, with every intention of tasting her human flesh. It was only what she deserved, afterall.
Humans are quite the delicacy among his kind. He had only tasted one human before. He did not regret tearing into the human's flesh with his teeth while it was still alive and screaming. The foul creature deserved everything it got.
And yet, he still did not kill the girl. Why? He is not sure. She was innocent, kind, caring, everything he wanted for the purpose she was to serve, and yet he couldn't go on with his plan.
When he took her that day during the storm, he thought it was to devour her like he did the man, but he couldn't. Once he held her fragile body in his arms--once her legs had ceased their kicking--her lungs filled with water, he found himself incapable of harming her. No, he had tried to tell himself. Humans are foul, vile, disgusting! And yet, he could not make his claws sink into her flesh.
Instead, he found himself swimming to the surface, holding her limp body above the water. He then took her back to the cave she is in now. There, he practically squeezed the water out of her lungs, nearly forcing life back into her body.
And there he left her. He didn't think she would survive, but life can surprise us sometimes. She was a little more beat up by the storm than he had originally thought, and to top it off, her wounds became infected. Humans... So weak.
He breaches the surface, his breathing patterns switching from his gills to his nose. He swims towards the cave, the seaweed still in his grasp. It is a medicinal weed that is only found on the far edges of the reef. His kind has used its healing powers for centuries, his mother had told him. He wonders if it will work on the human.
It is high tide now, making her sleeping form accessible from the water. He might have to slither forwards on his belly a few feet to reach her, but he will manage that with ease.
As the water shallows, he pulls himself with his hands, careful not to make too much sound that would awaken the sleeping girl. Once as far as he can go, he tosses the seaweed onto the bank before dragging himself onto the sand. Subconsciously, he is glad that she removed all the sharp stones.
He rests himself on his elbows, his upper body hovering over her sleeping form. He watches her curiously. His kind do not sleep--well, they can--but that's only during specific times.
He watches as her chest rises and falls, shuddering on the exhales. Her brow is slightly furrowed, showing that she is, indeed, in pain. The girl's face is pale, her lips a purple-blue color. He takes a moment to glance over the strange coverings on her body.
She wears a tight, blue strappy material over her chest and a thicker, more worn looking material covers her waist. He is not sure why she covers her breasts like she does; the females of his kind do not wear such coverings.
Deciding he wouldn't stare any longer, he begins his work wrapping her wounds with the weed. He really does not know why he is doing this. Maybe he might feel bad about purposely crashing her boat, but then again, maybe not. Maybe subconsciously he wishes to make his food more healthy before he consumes it.
Yes, that is more likely.
~•~
Cally is awoken by something wet and sticky wrapping around her leg. She whimpers as something painfully jabs into her thigh, right over the laceration. Startled, her eyes fly open. He looms over her, a passive expression on his face.
A scream locks in her throat and she finds herself frozen, unable to flee.
"Don't," he warns her sternly.
Despite his warning, she begins to struggle, her arms raising to push him away from her. Cally screams, only to be cut off by one of his massive hands clamping over her mouth. He easily catches her wrists with his other hand and pins them to her chest. The added weight on her lungs causes her to wheeze and her ribs to grind painfully against each other.
"I said don't, ilíthio korítsi."
Cally looks up at him with fear in her eyes. Is he finally about to finish her off? If so, what is he waiting for? Clearly her strength is no match for his.
"Stop it while I fix you. One move, and I might just kill you," he says, grumbling other words under his breath in another language. Cally ceases all movements.
She watches as the creature lay awkwardly on its side, his long, black tail stretched out beside him and curled slightly. Slowly, he lets her hands and mouth free, eyeing her with a warning look. He reaches beside him and picks up a long, slimy black weed from the sand.
It jiggles and leaves a dark colored slime in its wake, its foul smell permeating the air around them. The creature lays it on her thigh carelessly, Cally only jerking slightly, too afraid to move.
She breaths harshly through her nose and squeezes her eyes shut, white hot pain running through her body like lightning as the creature uses the slimy weed to scrape inside of the cut. His clawed fingertips gently scrape the puss out of the laceration before stuffing the weed inside.
He then moves onto the lacerations on her arms, performing the same procedure. Cally remains still the entire time, nearly blacking out from the pain a few times. Only the stifled moans slipping past her lips and the way her fists clench and eyes squeeze shut show how much pain she is in.
The creature was quite surprised by the human's resilience. He had expected her to writhe and squirm throughout the process, but she remained calm and still, for the most part. He did notice that she did not like his hands on her abdomen. He couldn't blame her, though, with his claws so close to her life sustaining organs.
He wouldn't have actually killed her if she moved, but then again, he might have. His last meal consisted of a small fish he caught about eight hours ago. It was about time he ate again.
With all of the cuts sealed with the weed, she would need to remain still for a while whilst the weed disinfected the wounds. Then he would remove what was stuffed inside and wrap it around the outside like a bandage.
He leans back to admire his work. He had only ever done this to himself when he had had altercations with others of his kind or sharks. His kind didn't exactly get along with each other. They were known to be rather territorial creatures.
The seaweed isn't stuffed in quite as far as it should be on her abdomen, but it will do. The girl's breaths are shallow and he can hear her heartbeat slowly thumping. Her eyes are closed and her muscles relaxed. She must have passed out at some point. There is no way she would trust him enough to fall asleep in his presence.
He would leave her here, but she bled onto the sand and he can't have the scent of fresh human blood attracting any of his kind. With that thought in mind, he rolls over onto his back and stares up at the roof of the cave. As long as he stays, his scent will ward off any other predators.
