Mariah Carey Boat Design Company

Chapter 6

Chapter 6- Recovering the boat

Mariah Carey missed her boats. Any good boat enjoyer knows the pains of being stuck without access to the water. The sea lathered her soul into a boomerang. Mariah must return.

She only thought of creating boats. It was coded into her DNA, engraved so deeply into her skull by the careful blades of nature. Now that the vampires were taken care of, she would be able to rebuild her shop. Mariah Carey followed her heart to the sea.

The blue waves greeted her and Mariah Carey fell into the warm waters. Her net worth was incalculable now. It meant nothing to a sea beast such as her. She hissed at the beach goers.

Mariah Carey ate nothing for months. She gathered materials for the boat with her own claws, from sunrise to sunrise. She did not sleep once. She was capable of processing every single item with her organs. She could digest ores and vomit pure metal ingots.

Mariah Carey is a best Christmas Movie now... She was the celebrity of Los Angeles. It was not her marine apex predator features that drew the attention, but her massive, bizarre structure she had built seemingly out of nothing. The boat was not a boat, but a work of art. Its hull was strong like a dragon and as sleek as a table. The sides of the boat were amde of and the boat itself waas sturdy and a shape unlike any other. A boat designer knew the shapes better than a human, that is for sure...

Mariah Carey did not set sail.

A crowd of people gathered on the beach. They were NPC's studying Mariah's Boat. News reporters came up and tried to ask her questions.

"Why are you building and ark? Can i come on it so we dont all die in the flood ahaha"

The news reporter asekd.

Mariah Carey spat and snapped her needle teeth onto the reporter's neck. She broke it and then took the microphone. She did not know english well enough to explain what she was doing, but it was good because she didn't want to.

Mariah carey dropkicked a group of children watching, hoping for the boat to take them away from their impending doom. Mariah Carey did not know of this yet. She did not have access to modern weather reports.

Boat Builders have an organ in the back of their heads connected to the subconscious and linked physically to the brain, just barely, by a few threads. It does not communicate to the brain much at all, but it functions like a second subconscious. The purpose of this organ is to analyze all weather pattern and abiotic data to determine what the most efficient shape will be. The message mostly goes to their body and not to the conscious mind, so MAriah Carey does not need a modern weather report to know that there would be a flood of biblical proportions coming to the western united states.

"Spare us, Mariah Carey!" The people cried. They fell to her feet, kneeling, worshipping her.

She felt no empathy. She was incapable of it. Mariah Carey gazed down to the teary eyed beggars.

Instinctively she reached for her gun, then remembered she had abandoned it with the machete in the cave long ago. She no longer needed them. They were merely crutches.

"You are our god, Mariah"

It took her a long time to fish out the right words.

"I am one of few. I am natural. You are one of millions. Everything you built is natural, yet your entire world was built on incalculably bad luck. It's time you died."

Mariah Carey hopped into her boat and kicked it into the water with her tail.

"bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" someone called out from the crowd. Mariah Carey looked back. Then she turned around before she could look at their faces.

When the world needed boats designed the most, Mariah Carey, the world's most reliable boat designer, disappeared.

The boat was submerged in the waves once it hovered over the Mariana Trench. It was a long journey. Mariah Carey steered the boat through each crevice until she was home. It had been 50 years.

The absence of light was something she desired in that lonely half a century. She exited the now submerged boat and called for her family.

"Chistmass............"

Nothing.

"I don't want a lot for Christmas......" She tried it again. She glided through the rocky caverns.

She reached the clearing her pod always gathered in.

Bones were littered across the clearing. Ribs, scapula, limbs, vertebrae, were all scattered and half-buried into the sand in a chaotic flurry of white. Isopods and hagfish were still attached to some of the bones, cleaning any remaining bits of flesh.

They hunt well without me? Is this a whale? She thought, brushing the sand off of the skeleton with one claw.

She listened to the sound of the sand hitting the ground. It echoed off of the enclosed chamber, and off of something lined up neatly on the ground farther back into the cave. Mariah Carey floated slowly towards it and felt around for the objects.

Twelve skulls, neatly arranged in a perfect circle. A stone in the center with something written on it. Mariah Carey gripped the rock and shot up into the surface. Was her pod waiting for her?

Come find me, Mariah Carey. These are the skulls of everyone you ever loved.

She vomited aluminum alloys.

At the surface, her body bobbed up and down.

Did she make enemies? She couldn't think of anyone at the surface she had angered. '

Perhaps it was another Boat Builder who heard of her living at the surface.

Mariah Carey wanted revenge.

On the back of the smooth, black rock there was a crude drawing of a river.

She knew what this meant. It would be the first river on a japanese island closest to home.

Mariah Carey would have to kill someone once a member of her pod, the elusive 2, as named by Obama. His true given name was Fin of the River, otherwise known as Le Fishe (French)

...

Mairah Carey did not like japan. The reason was because she was extremely racist. So she stuck to the rivers and never surfaced. She would find Le Fishe, the killer of her entire family.

Mariah Carey had nowhere to go. It had only settled in her mind when she sat in the frigid waters, brackish and clear and slimy. The lands of America had flooded. Her pod was dead. Her home was revenge and bloodshed as it always had been. 

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