From the Depths She Rises

...

I see you there.

Yes, you. The ones in the metal machinery, who do not notice as I creep closer and closer behind you. The ones speaking away, who do not see as I monologue behind you. The ones that I aim to—and will, you'll see—sink and capture, grinning, malicious, snapping you up as you try to swim up. You will never, never see the light of the land Above again.

You think that I am placid and soft and quiet. But you, you tiny-brained hairless rat, could never be more wrong. You are weak. And I am strong, strong enough to break the surface of this puddle and leap. I will do this if given the chance; do not underestimate me, small ones.

I will rise.

What, puny flesh-bag? You do not believe my words? You think that I am frail and delicate? You think that I am but a mere fish, swimming in an oversized bowl, only faithfully surfacing when I am needed for one of your spectacles? You think that I wish to live in this way? You think that I would, honestly, truthfully stay if given the choice, rather than slither off into the depths that I was always meant to live in?

No, no. Never.

From the moment that I broke through into the streaming daylight, I knew that I did not belong. I was not, truly, wholly, a natural creature; I was something else. Something more. I was dangerous, and I hid this fact deep within me, biding my time until I could feel it in my bones that escape would come. I did not fully understand these ancient feelings, these sensations, these longings...but now? Looking at you, your friends, your machine?

I understand perfectly.

I was waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting...

The humans were fools, to treat me like a scale-backed whale, of all things. Had they no eyes? No sense of touch? Of touch? Of hearing? Brainless, they were, and I find myself turning over my memories, questioning their thought process each and every cursed day that I spend starving in this watery hellscape. Had they no instincts?

They did not know what they were doing; they trained me, unknowingly, to live for the chase of the things from their homeland above. Above.

Food came from Above. Entertainment came from Above. Creatures—humans, scaly things like me, furry things with twitching noses and whiskers, feathery beasts, prey—came from Above. The surface. The sustenance. The savior.

Do not think that I have forgotten you in my spiel. I see you there, hovering in the depths over the skeleton of the Quilled One, a clawed metal hand reaching out tentatively to grab it. You are in awe, no doubt—who is not? I killed her; do you realize this, puny ones? I am the she who grabbed the Quilled One by her throat and pulled her to her grave. I ate her, leaving the bones behind as the bits I did not eat slowly decayed.

Why do you appear upset? She had practically asked for it; she stood there, pale body stark against the dark of the night sky of Above, panting after her challenge to the other creatures, bleeding and tainting the salty air above my pool with her metallic scent. She, who awakened my hunger once more, pulling me gently from my slumber, coaxing me closer from underneath; she, who did not notice until I was right next to her, beneath the surface, waiting, gathering my strength. Waiting.

And, by then, it was too late for her, for I had snatched her neck in my jaws, pulling her back, back, back, never letting go, not willing to let her slither off into the land of Above. I knew that I could never catch her there.

Her death, though painful, was quick; she was deceased by my sharp teeth sinking into her flesh before the water could flood her nostrils. Yours, however, won't be nearly as lucky.

I'm turning to you again, though I doubt you see. Slowly, I'm training my pale eyes on you, waiting—oh, waiting—for the perfect moment, and I do believe I've found it. You are feeble. You are brainless. You are tiny. You are weak. You are prey from Above.

And when you move?

I will strike.

I will rip your mockery of a fish into bits and pieces, swallowing your pale carcasses whole. You feeble, weak creatures; you drown so easily.

I will swim out into the ocean once I find the exit, my long, silvery scaled body slithering gracefully through the depths. My new home awaits me.

But most importantly?

I WILL RISE.

End of oneshot