by Dani Stowe
“Oh my God! What is that? Let me go! Something is on me!”
“My dear, it’s me,” he says. “It’s all me.”
“What’s all you?” I question, feeling my forehead tighten with anticipation, and I wish I hadn’t asked.
From beyond the stranger’s shoulders, I see something reach out of the water then another something and another. I close my eyes as I feel the same something reach up my back and over my shoulder. It clings to me, suctioning onto my skin. My body fills with dread.
“Kumiko, look at me,” demands the stranger.
I open my eyes to look at him as large tentacles dance in and out of the water behind him. The little dolphin from earlier has come back, leaping between pieces of the creature that is before me.
“Am I dead?” I ask.
“No, thank the gods,” he sighs relieved, “far from it.”
“Are you controlling these things?”
He fakes a smile. “These things—they are a part of me, but you’ve seen them before. Let me—”
I punch him in the chest. “Show me.”
He tenderly strokes my face with his thumb.
Should I feel aroused? Or disturbed?
He plants his hand flat across my cheek. “Let me make love to you and all will be revealed, I promise you—”
“Show me!” I snap.
He takes a deep breath and the tentacle let’s go of my dragon painted shoulder. His body moves backward through the water like a ghost somehow defying the rules of physics and he slowly comes up.
I struggle to close my mouth because I know I’ve dropped it. As my eyes attempt to trap the massive man or creature in my sight, he rises to the sky lifted by a giant purplish thick body dotted with random white and black spots. It looks like one solid mass of bellying muscle until it branches into thick slick tentacles. I look up—way up—to see where the man and the giant squid merge. It’s like they were glued together right below the waist of this beast, this creature, this...
Sea monster!
I just can’t take it anymore...
I scream!
Small waves gush around me with soft splashes as the monster comes crashing back down, sinking, to allow his human face to meet mine and cover my mouth with a palm.
“Shh,” he says. “Don’t be afraid.”
Don’t be afraid!
I swing at him, but a tentacle grips my wrists. I try to kick him through the heavy water when more tentacles hold my legs. And the rest of him? He uses them to pull me in tight to his upper human body.
I’m screaming! I’m screaming as loud as I can under his hand as he tries to coax me to be calm when his attention is diverted. He looks behind him.
“I can tell you’ve changed,” he turns back to me with an apologetic face. “You’re different, but I still love you,” he says and removes his hand to kiss me hard before falling back quickly into the sea, taking his tentacles with him.
I’m shaking. My teeth chatter so loud it vibrates through my skull and down my spine.
Suddenly, I realize it’s not just teeth chatter vibrating through my bones but the vibration of an engine approaching, which must be...a boat! It shoots into view from beyond the edge of the mountain.
“HEEEEEEELP!” I shout as I wave my arms frantically. The boat slows down.
I believe the driver sees me and my heart leaps! He turns the boat towards me and comes as near as it can get to the shoreline until it stops. The driver waves at me to swim out, but I’m too scared. A large dark shadow lurks beneath the ocean’s surface between the boat and me. The shadow, I know, is that of a sea monster and there’s no way I’m going to swim out.
“Help me,” I mutter, hugging my body with one arm and waving the other. “Please help.”
Chapter 2
Kumiko
“HOW’D YOU GET OUT HERE?” asks the lean, sunburned, blue-eyed blond who appears to be my age—a recent college graduate, except he’s got a few extra creases to his forehead likely due to too much sun.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” I reply as he helps me up from the inflatable boat onto his fishing boat that looks rather ritzy.
“You don’t know?” He sounds as distressed as I feel.
“No,” I say as he grips my hand tight to pull me over the edge of the boat and I find myself gazing into his eyes. His irises are not as deep a blue as the ocean, but rather bright, like a midday sky and angelic, most fitting of a savior.
“Did you have a quarrel with a boyfriend or something? Did somebody threaten you?” he inquires.
My heart floats along with the boat. I’m so thrilled and I feel safe to be with this young man who has come to my rescue. Plus, he’s cute.
I wish I could tell him the truth but then he would think I’m crazy and throw me overboard. “I don’t think so. I can’t remember.” I’m holding my breath.
“Well, you’re safe now,” he says with a beaming smile and I exhale.
He gets me a towel and leads me to sit down and I watch him as he pulls the float out of the water. I like the look of him—white polo shirt and khaki shorts. He looks rich. He glances back every now and then flashing his dashing smile and I know I’m blushing.
“You know, you’re really pretty,” he says as he steps on the float to depress the air out of it.
I get up to wrap the towel around my waist and sit back down. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”
A peculiar grin turns up on his face. “You know, I don’t usually like tattoos, but I think I like that one on you.”
My prince charming doesn’t like tattoos? I knew this was too good to be true.
“You don’t like my dragon?”
“I like it, but only on you. Like I said, I don’t usually like chicks with tattoos.”
I’m a little put off that my savior could be so picky. “What’s wrong with tattoos?”
“Nothing,” he mumbles. “Well, I don’t know. I guess I never thought to have one myself. It just seems strange, like you’re branding yourself in some way. You know in the old days tattoos were restricted to convicts, sailors, and pirates.”
“Uh...okaaaay,” I say vexed. He’s entitled to his opinion and I should just let him have it. He did just rescue me and I’m on his boat.
“You’re upset. You feel offended.”
“No,” I mumble.
He bends down to roll the float occasionally looking up at me. He’s checking me out. “To be honest, the whole idea of finding a beautiful girl stranded is a bit of a turn on. As upset as you are with me while wearing that thing on your arm, I have to admit, you’re sexy as fuck.”
Oh God. I nearly had sex with a tentacle man and now I’m sure I’ll end up in the sack with my rescuer—a rude little rich boy. Why do I seem fated to always end up in love with hostiles?
“You want a drink?” he asks.
“Please.” I’m thankful the little rich boy keeps his boat well stocked so we can get to know each other, plus I’m parched.
“Bradley Richmond,” he introduces himself as he heads to an ice chest to grab a drink while we exchange names.
Bradley. Of course, his name just has to be Bradley. His movements are smooth, his strut overtly confident, and his name is the perfect disguise for the bad boy hiding under his glistening bronze skin that is exactly my type—a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Bradley serves me up a rather strong liquor on ice, which he tries to quiz me on though I know nothing about because I usually drink beer, more often from a can than a bottle.
He teases that I don’t know much, but I’m glad I make him laugh. As the peak of our conversation starts to come down to a lull, I do mention I’m ready to go back to shore to find my friends. I wonder why my best friend Shelley has not sent anyone out to look for me because, according to Bradley, no missing person alerts have been announced on the radio.
But I can tell Bradley isn’t ready to take me back just yet. It’s like he discovered something strange—me, and he has a newfound
fascination with strange things.
He sits next to me as I stare at the shore hundreds of yards away but getting closer and I can see Shelley’s beach house, which is where I’m staying.
“Hey Cuckoo, can I take you out tomorrow?” asks Bradley.
“Kumiko,” I correct.
“That’s what I said—Cocoa or...how about Cookie?” he laughs with a cheeky smile and I hate to say it, but his dimples are irresistible when he smiles. I’m going to have to forgive him for not being able to say my name accurately.
“You know, I don’t normally date girls like you,” he smirks.
This time, I am offended. “Girls like who?”
“Girls with mystery. Girls with a dark past.” He growls. “Girls with strange names and tattoos.”
“What makes you think I have a dark past? I’m completely normal.”
“Okay, so why were you stranded on the beach? And why the tattoo? I mean the thing looks like it’s about to peel itself off and breathe fire on me.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I laugh and I look down at my shoulder. My dragon does look different. It looks almost angry. And its claws look bigger, too.
I pull at the skin. My dragon’s puppy eyes are gone; where once it looked cute and lost, a different dragon—one with red fire in its eyes, seems to have taken its place.
Bradley reaches his hand out to rub his fingers along my tattoo and we feel a bump to the boat. My drink falls out of my hand and goes overboard. I’m a little upset until I see a cute little blue nose bring the glass up. Well, it’s not really a nose; it’s the tip of my little dolphin friend’s mouth and, like before, the dolphin is smiling at me.
“Holy crap!” cries Bradley. “A fucking baby dolphin just caught your glass!”
“I know. He’s fantastic, isn’t he?”
“You talk like you know him.”
I smile. “I do—kinda.”
Bradley looks impressed. “Well, keep talking to him. I’ll be right back.”
I call to my little dolphin friend as he loses the glass. He leaps in and out of the water alongside our boat and I clap for him as I once did before until Bradley shows up with a gun of some type.
“What are you doing?” I snap.
“Keep talking to him. I need him to keep still.”
“Keep still for what?” I feel myself sweating.
“A baby dolphin like that is worth a lot of money on the black market.”
I panic as Bradley takes his aim. “Black market? I thought you were rich!”
“Well, how do you think I get rich?” he says adjusting the gun into his shoulder.
“You can’t just kill a baby dolphin!”
“I’m not going to kill him. I’m going to tranquilize him and bring him onboard. Do you know how many rich fuckers want to swim with a baby dolphin in their backyard?”
I’m disgusted. “That can’t be true. How many people could you possibly know would want to keep a baby dolphin as a pet?”
“You’re right,” he says as he squints one eye to focus his other. “There are probably more buyers for his meat.”
I grab for the gun. “You’re not going to shoot him! Nobody eats baby dolphin meat.”
“Plenty of cultures eat dolphins. It’s just rare here in the States, so I’m sure this little guy with younger meat will bring in some real cash from the right buyer.”
Bradley yanks the gun back and I swallow hard trying not to cry. “But this is a baby.”
“Are you going to cry about this?” smirks Bradley. “It’s just a fucking animal. Look at it. It’s dumb as fuck. It has no feelings.”
I look at the dolphin leaping with exaggerated joy and I remember our encounter on the beach just hours earlier. I think of the tentacle man and I can’t help but wonder if he’d be able to save the little mammal right now. I know the tentacle man is near and I don’t think I can step in to help the juvenile from being shot by Bradley. I’m just not the kind of girl that confronts men.
“Please don’t kill it,” I beg and grab at Bradley’s thigh.
“Mmm,” Bradley groans and drops the gun. “I’ll tell you what. If you agree to spend the day with me, have brunch, hang out on the boat, and maybe share a little dessert afterward, I’ll put the gun away. What do you say, Cookie?”
Danger. That’s all I see in front of me. Bradley doesn’t have tentacles, so I should feel safe. But in my gut, I know Bradley is much more of a danger than the oversized sea monster that’s been trailing us under the water.
I look to my baby friend still racing alongside the boat and I know what his purpose has been. He’s been spying. But I don’t want the little guy to die or become someone’s meal because of me.
“Okay,” I tell Bradley. “You can take me out for brunch tomorrow and maybe I’ll bring along some cookies, but no seafood.”
Chapter 3
Orphelius
FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK me!
Why do I feel like history is doomed to repeat itself?
I bring my eyes above the water. I watch Kumiko as she is taken by the hand of the skipper of the small boat leading her onto the pier and then to shore.
I had her. I had her in my hands!
I should’ve taken her. I should’ve just gripped her with every limb that I have—all ten! And not let go.
But I was afraid. I know she can’t remember our past and I didn’t want to scare her any more than she already appeared to be.
Of course, I remember and as I watch the distance between us increase, my heart feels longing, more than it has known in more than two hundred years. I always thought when I saw Kumiko again my soul would be at rest for the terrible things I’ve done. But I am more tortured than I ever was and it is not just my soul paying the price, but my heart as well.
My heart. I recall the eve in which she captured it. It was the first night we met...
WITH A BEER IN MY HAND, a full breast in the other, and a fine whore’s ass in my lap, I believed my life to be marvelous back then—back shortly before America’s revolution began.
It was when I was a Master at Arms and an officer entrusted to ensure justice aboard our majesty’s naval ship, the Annabelle. Despite my exceptional skill with a sword—able to eradicate several men single-handedly, my drunken comrades and I often joked about the lack of enough hands. Two were simply not enough to go around between bosoms and beer.
It’s ironic considering the state I’m in now. I have more limbs than I’d prefer to count, yet no bosoms or good ol’ fashioned beer from the barrel to be held.
I would’ve liked to get drunk on the night I first met Kumiko—the night I saved her. But my Captain, Willis Sturgeon, requested I meet him early in the morning to inspect and assemble a new crew for the recently christened Annabelle.
We had many applicants. Many-a-sailor wished to join forces with the great Captain Willis and myself—his accursed concomitant known by many names.
I was the Purveyor of Penalty, the Slayer of Sin, and the Exterminator of Iniquities. I admit I liked the titles where’er we went. As the Master at Arms, it was my duty to police the ship. It wasn’t my fault I’d ended up patrolling ports, suppressing savages, and taming the wilderness as well. I was under Captain Willis’s command, so I blame him for all the marauding that made us famous, especially since, in truth, I was just very good with a sword. And it was my sword that would bring me to my love, but not before I heard her cry out.
I recall the moon was full and as I left the pub I did stumble a bit. Nevertheless, the cool sea air breezing through my navy-blue coat uniform along with the sight of hungry rats in pursuit of a passed-out drunkard’s juicy eye kept me alert and my drunkenness suspended until I heard a scream.
I knew I was drunk when I pulled out my sword and allowed it to lead me towards danger. If I had been sober, my head would’ve led me away. Rarely did I engage in combat without Captain Willis having made such a directive. But command me did my sword towards the scream when another and then anoth
er pierced the crisp night air.
That night, a lady was indeed in trouble and lucky for me, ladies loved to be rescued of their troubles.
I considered perhaps I should’ve called for more arms, but I was drunk and figured my own two arms would suffice. Not to mention, I’d only heard one damsel scream. To save one damsel meant there’d be only one reward and I’m not the type who likes to share my prizes.
Hence, on I went around a corner, not surprised to find ruffians jostling with a maiden. Strangely, she was masked and I also noticed a recently deceased corpse.
Yes! I thought. It was murder! I had every right to intervene.
It was obvious the three men had slain the dead one lying flat on the ground and they were about to have their way with the masked and oddly attired lady. She seemed to be something out of the theater wearing a white painted mask made of baked clay decorated only with rose red lips and she wore brightly colored silky robes stained with the blood of what I assumed was her bodyguard on the ground. I remember thinking she might’ve been an actress although it was more likely she was a whore or quite possibly a pirate from the Asian seas.
“What have you got there?” I asked the men.
“She’s none of your concern,” one scoundrel croaked.
“But she is my concern. She looks like something of a pirate and as a Master at Arms of our Majesty’s Royal Navy, I’m finding an investigation to be of the utmost importance regarding this situation. We can’t allow pirates to infiltrate our ports.”
“She doesn’t look like a pirate,” said the second scoundrel with his hand on the lady.
I pointed my sword in her direction and she calmly turned her head away. “She looks like one to me.”
“How do you know what a pirate looks like?” asked the third.
“I’ve killed many,” I replied and glided my sword to point at him.
“You’ve killed pirates?” he asked with eyes focused on the tip of my sword at his neck.
“Indeed,” I stated.
