Tentacles: An Anthology

by Haley Whitehall

  She scowled, thumbing her comm. badge as another body crawled up through the opening.

  “Arty, what’s your status?”

  “Engines at eighty nine percent, captain. What’s your ETA?”

  Kasan drew closer. “Membership. In a species that chooses its members. An exclusive club.

  You’re now part of it.”

  Her fingers loosened their grip on the weapon. “But, these aren’t human, Kas. These are …

  they’re an alien species ... not like us.”

  He laughed. “No, not anything like us. They’re far superior. But now you’re like them. Like me.” He swept a hand over the others emerging from the pool. All had two arms, two legs, no tentacles anywhere. Four, five of them now.

  No. This couldn’t be right. “Kas, I’m not—”

  “Captain?”

  “Just a second, lieutenant.”

  “You wanted to communicate with them. I tried to stop you, but it was your choice.”

  “But, I had to. Th-the lethal dose. They didn’t give it to me. I lived. I’m fine.”

  Kasan nodded and took her hand. “You are fine. You’re perfectly fine. In fact, you’ll fit in beautifully.”

  Another black being emerged from the water. She gasped, and stepped back. “I’m not

  staying. I can’t stay.” Her skin thrummed to an unseen vibration, aching to get in the water.

  Eager to be amongst her kind. Anger rose in her throat, all the way up to her head where it blew out her ears in a fountain of smoke. She yanked her hand from his. “You did this to me! This was your plan all along,” she hissed.

  He laughed and shook his head. “You’re the stubborn one, Zee. The one set on rules and regulations. You chose this path.” He moved closer. “And they chose you. Zaural. Don’t you see? We can become a mating pair.”

  “Captain. Captain! It’s almost time.”

  “I’m leaving, Kas.”

  He sighed, all the laughter gone. As if disappointed in her to the bottom of his possibly black bones. “Of course you are.” He turned and walked back to the group. “Business as usual. No time to see the world. No time to explore other ways of life. But inside, Zaural… you’re a rebel.

  Like me. It’s only a matter of time before you choose this.” He said the last part inside her head.

  And then she heard them, too. All of them. Talking to her. Asking her to stay.

  No! “I’m not a rebel,” she whispered. “I’m not a rebel.” Her air came in little gulps but she managed to hit the comm. button, “Wait, Arty. Wait!”

  She ran. Ran hard, with lights flashing before her eyes, and an eerie laughter ringing inside her head. Ran in the dry, dry dirt, like the devil was on her tail and the only way off this rock was certain death. Even then, she’d take it.

  ..................

  Star Base 12, eight months later

  They’d cut her tour of duty short.

  Admiral Vorle had field-appointed Fronson as captain after she’d thrown herself at the view-screen screaming she had to go back – back to the particle shower. Her crew had looked at her like she’d lost her mind. Thank God Arty hadn’t followed her orders to turn the ship around. All those people… She couldn’t have lived with that.

  On the doc’s orders, they’d made an emergency stop at Star Base 12 to drop her off for

  “treatment.” So far, treatment had included an endless stream of twenty-six hour days of debriefing, medical scans, being run through the base’s twelve-point alien species mental recovery program, and then put on medical leave indefinitely. Certified unfit for duty. Thanks, Captain Shuri, but your services are no longer needed.

  Terrorist. That’s what they’d called her. Not to her face, no. But in the reports. In her medical file. Terrorist. Just like Kasan. A black-skinned, tentacled other.

  Now they’d sent her here – Pedastal Island – awaiting passage back to Earth. It would be some time before a shuttle came through this sector. She had plenty of time to try and regroup.

  As she set foot onto the white micro-gravel pathway leading to the cabin she felt old, tired and defeated. Too old for her age.

  She hoped the peace, quiet, and solitude would let her rebuild her tattered ego. What was left of her identity was hers to cling to, dammit. All she really needed to regain her wits was a little time. Really.

  Time to assimilate the changes she’d been through. To get used to the idea of her skin turning black in the water. To the tentacles that came bursting out of her in the shower. To those freaky-ass ideas whispering through her brain.

  In the room, alone at last, she shivered as she slipped out of her slinky robe and the delicate material puddled on the floor. The living fiber carpet smooshed and ruffled under her feet as she made her way to the room’s attached soaking tub. She hesitated at the edge and dipped only her toe in the water, her stomach curled in anticipation. It remained human. Perhaps they had cured her after all.

  She breathed a sigh of relief and sat on the edge, letting her legs dangle. After a few minutes, she lowered herself the rest of the way. The urge to submerge herself all the way grated on her nerves. She hated that it would keep biting at the edge of her sanity until she gave in. With a sigh

  – holding her breath – she let the water close over her head.

  Behind her eyes she could hear them. She was used to that. But it seemed louder this time.

  Closer. As though their hums were coming from this very room. This very water.

  Her eyes popped open but she saw no one through her sheathed, no longer human vision.

  Below, her arms and legs lengthened and supinely flexed before unfurling into tentacles. Once fully untangled, her long, black body quivered in unnatural ecstasy, responding to the rhythmic hum vibrating through the water. Powerless to stop it, she gave in to the tide and let her limbs dance. With that dance, they had her. Owned her. She knew then that wherever she went, no matter how far away, they’d always find her. She’d never be free.

  In her mind’s eye she saw their squirming forms. All of them. Glowing and humming. Strung out like light bulbs in galaxies far and near. She’d never realized the extent of their colony until now. It was larger, more advanced, older than man’s. They could afford to simply wait out man’s rise and fall, no matter how long it took. And she’d helped them, damn it. She’d fallen for their stupid story. She’d helped take those pesky colonists off their hands.

  Disgust and fear bathed her insides cold. She hastened out of the pool, her slippery limbs returning to human with agonizing slowness. Finally she stood on human feet, hunched over, trembling. She wrapped her arms around herself and staggered to the mirror. Half-alien, half-human, she no longer knew her true identity. Kas had called her a rebel.

  Terrorist.

  Maybe she was deep down in her black, black heart. If she was, then she had a duty to end this.

  The pistol lay on her bedside table. Her hand shook as she picked up the gun. Held it to her head as she watched her skin flush red, white, then midnight black in the mirror. The three images of herself twisted her insides into a Mandelbrot Knot. Brought tears to her ever-morphing eyes. She cried for the loss of her former life. But that was over, and she couldn’t let them win.

  She had to do it. She stuck out her chin and chanted, “I’m no terrorist. I never will be.”

  She pulled the trigger.

  ..................

  Unknown place, unknown time

  “Easy. Don’t try and suck in all the air at once. Save some for the rest of the galaxy.”

  Someone was screaming. The sound ricocheted off the inside of her skull and mixed with Kasan’s irritating voice. Anger stirred her awake. Confusion clouded her mind, towing her back under the depths. She fought for air.

  “Come on … do it, Zee. Snap out of it.”

  The hand on her shoulder was warm, about a million degrees hotter than her shoulder. Wait.

  Why would her shoulder be so damn near freezing? She cl
enched her jaw and her fists,

  struggling to remember. The tub. Terrorist. The pistol.

  Her heat thudded like a stalled engine about to go into free-fall. This was the afterlife? She forced her eyes open. Hell. It’s nothing but a damn stasis tube with Kasan standing over it. What the hell? Talk about a letdown.

  “Welcome back, Zee.”

  Warmth shot through her at the timbre of his voice. All the right parts vibrated though she tried to stop it. He still had that effect on her, like it or not. A tight bud of worry slowly unfolded into the light. Maybe I am a terrorist. “I’m …not …back. I can’t be.” Her dry mouth croaked out the words as though learning to speak.

  “The hell you aren’t.”

  The sight of Kasan gloating over her shot so many emotions through her at once, she had to shove down the cacophony to keep her sanity. “No. It’s impossible. I killed myself.” Just saying the words brought her sorrow. Grief she hadn’t let herself feel at the time. She squeezed her lid shut to trap a tear. Never mind. This isn’t real.

  Kasan shrugged. “So did I. Most do.” He crossed his arms and sighed. “What you’ve been through is rather … unnerving to say the least. But you’ve made it through the toughest part.

  Welcome to the club.”

  She bolted upright – or tried, but fell flat on her back. The stasis still had her limbs half-frozen. “This isn’t some stupid club, Kas. I’m obviously in hell – with you.” Half-thoughts morphed into language. “How did you even find me?”

  “We had a man stationed nearby during your rehabilitation in case something like this happened.”

  Something like this. A shudder rippled through her cold frame leaving icicles behind. She remembered now. The continuum – strung out across the galaxy – a never ending series of lights.

  Oh, yes. They undoubtedly had “a man” everywhere. “You knew I would do this. You set this all up.” Her fingers regained some mobility and clawed into the stasis tube’s thick white padding.

  How could she have allowed herself to be bested by a goddamned terrorist.

  Kas shook his head. “No. You chose this, Zee. You chose to interact with them. You chose to let them touch you. Your scientific mind had to uncover the facts. It wouldn’t accept anything else.”

  “So I could help you rid the planet of the colonists. How nice. Glad that worked out for you.”

  Her teeth ground. She’d been forced to interact them and they’d infected her with their poison.

  Their lies. Their secrets.

  Kas’s face went grim. His voice softened. “The colonists were eating them, Zee. What else were we supposed to do?”

  Acid rolled her stomach. The thought of those creatures ... those damn ultra-sentient creatures cooked and eaten like … stew. The colonization had been a failure. With little else to eat, they’d turned to the nearest food source. Problem was, it resembled cannibalization more than they realized. “You’re lying. That’s not what they told me.”

  “Would you have helped us if we’d told you the truth?”

  No. Kas was right. She would have turned and walked away. He’d played her perfectly.

  “Asshole.”

  His laugh was full and deep.

  “I’m still not one of you. The researchers said they could eventually find a cure. Take me back.”

  “Your human side is dead, Zee. It’s no longer your true form. I attended the funeral. Fronson was there. So was Arty and the rest of your crew.” He walked to the wall and took down a small round mirror, then strolled back to the stasis tube. “You’ll eventually get used to the fact that your human body is gone … forever.” He leaned down close, held the mirror where she could see her reflection, and grinned. “What you see now is most definitely no longer what you get.”

  Spittle flew out of her mouth. She wanted to scratch his eyes out, rip his tentacles off and shove them down his throat. “I’m not on your team, you dumbass. I’m fucking not one of you.

  I’m not a damn terrorist!” The rant lost steam as she looked at the perfect image in the mirror.

  Her fingertips gingerly explored where the blast should have exited her skull. Nothing. Her hand shook as the icy numbness around her heart cracked and let in fear. This had to be some kind of joke. A very bad joke.

  “Okay now, here’s the cool part. Close your eyes, connect to the others, and will yourself to change forms.”

  She glared at him. “What would that prove? I’m dead, remember?” Dead and bat-shit crazy.

  With a sigh he tossed the mirror on her lap and strode to the other side of the stasis tube.

  “You always have to have proof, don’t you? Poor little analytical Zee.”

  He thrust his arms under her so fast her sluggish cold limbs didn’t have time to react. He lifted her from the bed as easily as picking up a sleeping child and carried her to the shower.

  Once inside, he pressed her against the wall with his body and turned the water on full blast.

  The sensation of his body pressing against hers for the first time in ages gave her a perverse thrill. But she harbored a very bad feeling she knew exactly how this little experiment would end. Her stomach emptied faster than an engine room on overload. Oh God, no. Please no. This was only a dream. A stupid rebel fantasy.

  The water hit her. She closed her eyes and went slack as the warm liquid trickled down her body, heating, softening and slickening her skin. In a few moments, her limbs started to slither.

  She didn’t need to open her eyes to know they were turning black like Kasan’s. Black like her –

  new – true form. She found it hard to swallow around the lump clogging her alien throat.

  Kas pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”

  Zaural opened slitted Gramica eyes to see the shower filled with dancing black tentacles. She was alive. But wait. She was also dead. Her head swam. “This is crazy… Kas… this can’t be.”

  “Actually, as incredible as it seems, the Gramica didn’t lie about that part.” His arms caressed her and she shivered under his touch. “Welcome to immortality, honey. You’re living proof only the craziest need apply.”

  THE SACRIFICE

  ..................

  By Haley Whitehall

  Thick cord bound Aveda’s wrists. She struggled against the restraints but they didn’t budge.

  The coarse rope rent her skin like a thousand tiny needles. To worsen the misery an itch spread to her fingers. Her arms ached from being pulled tight above her head.

  Curse the rigging.

  Curse these pirates.

  Curse her fate.

  What had she done to deserve being taken as a prize?

  Not that she was much of a prize. Her heart gave a resounding thud. Had she been holding her breath? She forced herself to inhale deeply. Breathe. Focus.

  Adrenaline surged into her muscles increasing her strength. She strained again and the heavy salt encrusted rope dug deeper. A burning sensation seared through to the bone. She winced and blinked, fighting back tears.

  She was trapped.

  A prisoner. Taken from her bed at the dead night. Only devils prowled at such a dark hour.

  Not even being allowed to dress, they hauled on board this lawless ship like she was nothing more than a sack of grain.

  A calloused hand grabbed her by the throat; not rough, but hard enough to demand her

  attention. The man turned her face to his. His hot liquored breath made her nose curl. “Why did you kidnap me?” she demanded. The pressure he applied to her throat made her words raspy and feeble.

  “To protect the ship.”

  Protect the ship? She was not related to anyone important. If they wanted to protect the ship they should have kidnapped the governor’s daughter or the admiral’s daughter.

  Not the daughter of a cook. Not a mere scullery maid.

  Perhaps he was too drunk to realize what he was saying.

  She wanted to know what they planned to
do with her but she was too afraid to ask. It couldn’t be ransom … so were they going to sell her into slavery? Or would she be a prisoner on the ship serving these men, these crude pirates?

  A shudder worked its way up her spine.

  “Do I repulse you, miss?” The man smiled revealing a mouth full of rotten teeth. He leaned closer and the red fuzz of a three day beard brushed her cheek.

  “No,” she lied. She couldn’t seem weak. They were like bloodhounds. They fed off

  weakness.

  The sliminess in his chiseled face reached his eyes. “Don’t worry. It won’t be long.”

  “Won’t be long till what?”

  He laughed, his breath fanning her face. He smelled of rum and sweat and sea breeze.

  Her tangled raven tresses fell in front of her heaving bosom. Her anger doubled by the second. She breathed heavily and the pig of a man stared at her breasts. His filthy fingers trailed down her neck, leaving a cold path.

  “Get your bloody paws away from the wench, Mr. Blithe,” a man’s commanding voice

  boomed across the still night like a clap of thunder.

  Immediately the man backed away. “Aye, sir.”

  A bull of a man stepped into the moonlight, straight and strong as the main mast, as bald as a cannon ball, his face weathered and hardened as stone. “Ye pug-nosed bastard, don’t let yer lust ruin the sacrifice.”

  Aveda’s eyes and nostrils flared. Sacrifice?

  The man waved a massive hand. “Away ’fore I lose my temper.”

  “Aye, Captain.” The wiry red-headed pirate bowed his head slightly and disappeared, leaving Aveda alone with this muscular beast. His unbuttoned shirt revealed a rippled chest. He stepped closer and Aveda could see the wildness in his rich brown eyes.

  “Relax, my dear,” he said in a smooth tone as if trying to lull a baby to sleep. “Ye shall not break free of the rigging. Yer jus’ hurtin’ yeself by tryin’.”

  Aveda sighed. Although she didn’t want to admit it, he was right. She stood still, her arms tied above her head, eyes glued to the stranger.