by Dani Stowe
“But she doesn’t remember.”
“I don’t want her to remember.”
“Do you really think the girl you’ve been waiting around for is going to love you as you are?”
I wrap my fingers around the nymph and tighten my grip.
“Orphelius!” she cries. “That hurts!”
It does hurt. I can feel her pain and I let go. I watch the nymph flutter away, quickly disappearing to become invisible among the vast blue backdrop of the deep.
I look down at my lower half. It is grotesque and I hate to exist this way, but the thought this form gave me powers that might reunite me one day with my lover has always given me hope. Of course, the grotesque nature of my physical state—these fucking huge tentacles attached to a boneless, spineless blob of muscle, has certainly left me worried that Kumiko would reject me. I remember the witch warned me this could happen and I remember how I came to be this way.
It was a still night aboard the Annabelle and few weeks into our journey towards the Americas. No wind or waves could be heard, but we were all uncomfortable. The stiff air seemed to intensify a slave’s cries aboard the opposite ship. She was being tortured.
Her crying often followed her screams and it made all the seamen uneasy. I feared Kumiko’s lord might fall under the influence of whatever atrocities were being committed and I had no choice but to confront my Captain about it.
Luckily, Willis was also upset. I never knew his history. He would not confess his past to me, but I knew the man would not sit idle in the presence of such torture. He was not averse to blood or the spilling of guts, preferring to see a person—good or bad, succumb to a quick death rather than be tortured.
Captain Willis and I discussed a plan of action to deal with Captain Porterman. Willis decided he would have a talk with the other Captain. Not having any wind at our sails made our new crew anxious about supernatural entities and a woman wailing, as some thought, might trigger a visit from the gods. We decided I would accompany Willis to inspect the cargo, although the only cargo the two of us were interested in were the women—the slave and my whore.
Our first inspection did not yield good results. There were several women aboard the ship, all being abused. Despite my Captain’s plea for better treatment, the slave—the African beauty whom we heard the night last, was screaming worse the night hence. I also did not see Kumiko, as her lord locked her in his quarters.
I regret the tortured slave cried out for a second night in a row, but it gave us another excuse to revisit the ship to have a second go at discussing the treatment of slaves with Captain Porterman.
The man was an arse, laughing when the slave professed to be a witch and cursed us all on our second visit. Captain Willis and I chuckled a little. In all our adventures, never had we’d seen anything that remotely resembled anything having to do with magic.
But of course, magic found us. Like idiots, Willis, Henry—who was the first to volunteer, of course, and I left the Annabelle to save what we could aboard Captain Porterman’s ship, which was on fire, never minding the lightning striking suspiciously about the vessel.
We each had our own reasons to face the fiery hell that awaited us, but we had no time to discuss it. When I saw Kumiko’s lord, without his wench, arrive on the small lifeboat to join Captain Porterman and a few other officers, I wished to slit his throat, but I had no time for that either. I grabbed the oars of our small boat as Willis gave Henry a speech to encourage him to push off and off we went.
Yes, away we went across the still sea to climb aboard the burning ship only to find the slave in chains. Henry went looking for a key, as ordered by the Captain, and I went in search of Kumiko.
I found her lying flat on a bed, as if ready to accept her fate. I had to shake her to arouse her.
“Master Mayhem!” she cried and wrapped her arms around me as I pulled her to stand.
“We have to go,” I shouted, but I was too late.
An explosion came from behind me and we both felt the ship tip and shake. It also began to creak and I could hear wood snapping and what sounded like chewing and chomping. It was as if the mouth of the sea was swallowing the ship.
I panicked as water began to flood at our feet, rising quickly to our shins and then our knees and hips. The boat tipped further sideways and we began to slide. I gripped a pillar with one hand and Kumiko with the other to pull her up, hoisting her with every bit of strength I could muster towards the opening of the door through which I could see the stars. I figured the ship was half submerged and I needed Kumiko to climb upward as we sank.
“Climb out!” I shouted. She did as I said and when she turned to reach down to me in an attempt to help me up, another explosion rocked the ship.
I believe it knocked me out for a time although I know it had not been that long, as my transformation must’ve been very quick. By the time I awoke, I was already different. When I saw my lower half, I screamed, believing a giant squid-like creature had me halfway in its mouth.
I also couldn’t breathe—but I could breathe. I felt like I was choking, gasping for air at my nose and mouth, which were flooded, but my lungs were easily expanding. Each time I screamed, the sound was somewhat mute. That was my first indication I was breathing underwater.
I tried to swim, but my legs were not there. My arse was not there either and I panicked again. I felt for my bawbels and let out a muted scream again when my hands found nothing but a smooth slick mass of squid. I peeped down and that’s when I felt it—the maneuverability of eight boneless legs attached to the lower half of a hipless body. And there was a slit—right in the center where my bawbels and my Man Thomas should be—I nearly cried. My first thought at that point was that I was in hell and I’d been turned into a sub-creature, but worse! A female sub-creature.
I decided to reach my fingers into the slit. I cringed as I dug into myself until my heart rejoiced! My manhood, thick and large, was still with me.
But Kumiko was not. I looked about the space and realized where I was and what had happened. I was still in Kumiko’s room in the hull of the ship. I had no idea how I had come to be in the form I was in, but I needed to focus on what else was going on.
I had to find Kumiko.
I made my way to the door where I hoped Kumiko was able to make it to the surface, but I became stuck. As slick and as pliable as my new lower half was, it was too large at the girth to fit through the doorway. This was the first time I felt my power, my many powers. Creatures began to gather about as I tugged with my hands to try and pull myself free. I should have been afraid of the many sea critters—some big, some small, some looking more like a stick while others were shaped more like a ball. In either case, I could sense their inquisitive thoughts.
One at a time the creatures gathered to spy on me. I had never known fish to be so curious except with bait and when the shark showed up displaying row upon row of jagged sharp teeth, I yelled at the massive thing.
Astonishingly, I felt the shark’s fear from my bark and it swam away. I told all the aquatic creatures to swim away and they each did. In the meantime, I had unconsciously managed to squeeze my tentacles about the doorframe and, with one easy push, the frame and the surrounding wood collapsed.
Quickly, I made my way out of the ship. I knew I was in the dark, but I could miraculously see through the deep murky sea. I managed to use my new boneless limbs—all eight together in quick motions alternating between curl and push, curl and push, to propel and swim me to the surface.
I soon found my head above the water. Floating debris from Porterman’s ship was strewn everywhere. The wind had picked back up, blowing the Annabelle away—her sails wide open and at high mast.
I could sense something in the water—something unusual and the feeling was magical. The sliver of something like a snake with a large head swam past me.
“Stop,” I said to the thing and it did as I commanded, halting right in front of me.
The creature poked its head out an
d it was unlike anything I had ever seen. It had both fire and compassion in its golden globe of eyes. I had heard tales of dragons and this one was no doubt such a creature. It was inquisitive, eager to help me, so I encouraged the sea creature to accompany me in my search for Kumiko.
That’s when I felt it—something painful, both physically and emotionally. The dragon felt it too and darted away. I grabbed the end of its tail as it swung around and the dragon pulled me towards a mess of debris floating from Porterman’s sunken ship.
I made my way towards a large open trunk floating aimlessly and surrounded by circling sharks. I wiggled my lower half to bring me higher out of the water to see what was inside and there she was. Wet and crouched in a fetal position to her side, I noticed Kumiko—she was bleeding.
“Orphelius!” she cheered and reached out to grab me. The trunk tipped and she slipped halfway into the water, but I was there to catch her—with my tentacles!
She observed my transformation immediately. It was hard not to notice—her legs slid easily along the smooth mass below my waist and the suctioning grip of many cups sprawled along my new limbs wrapped around her back to keep her from sinking.
She let her eyes wander about before she hugged me and I’d never felt so much relief. “Hold me,” she said and I wrapped my arms around her. “Tighter,” she demanded, and I squeezed.
I felt an ache but I knew it was not coming from me and I lifted my lover’s arm to see a gash at her rib.
“Don’t look at it,” she whined and turned my face away.
My heart sunk. “I have to take you back to the ship.”
She squeezed me tighter. “You can’t take me back. I want to stay here. Take us where no one will find us.”
I repeated my last statement to her. Never had words felt so despondent and jarring. “I have to take you back to the Annabelle. There is a doctor on board.”
“No, I don’t want to go. I will be fine,” she cried and she kissed me.
The kiss should’ve been comforting, but all I could feel was sheer pain from the wound at her rib. It was at that moment I knew I had to take her back to her lord. Kumiko needed a doctor and, as much as it pained me, I had no choice in my action.
My lady fought me as I pulled her grip from my neck to force her back into the trunk and lock her in it. I recovered a piece of rope and it was only a matter of minutes before I brought us alongside the Annabelle. I found it easy to loop the rope between the anchor and the trunk, which allowed the Annabelle to pull the trunk with it. Luckily, the first light of the morning sun had begun to pierce through the sky, which made the trunk easily visible. I fell behind but followed to ensure the trunk would be seen in tow. And, indeed, it was found trailing.
After the trunk with Kumiko inside was hoisted aboard, for weeks, I followed behind the Annabelle until the ship finally made it to the new land that would be America. When I saw Kumiko walk down the plank and onto the pier, my heart was jubilant.
I lingered about the pier for a few days. I had no idea what to do with myself in this new form and realm I regretted being my new home. I hung around the Annabelle, careful not to be noticed, although it was fun to scare a sailor every now and then. I was hoping some news might be overheard of Captain Willis or perhaps of Henry, but at that time, I figured they drowned and perished.
I did miss my friend, Willis, as we had known each other a long time. But I missed Kumiko more although we had shared nothing but one night in a tight embrace.
I felt as though I had been waiting for an eternity to overhear any kind of news. The fish I could command would not talk, although the unusual sea dragon that was always at my side comforted me. But even with my new friend, I was becoming depressed, particularly in observance with the peculiar state I was in. Until finally, she came to me.
It was the dead of night when I saw Kumiko sneaking onto the pier. She was disguised as a man, but I knew it was she. The second she came near the water, I could feel it was her.
I was suddenly worried about the way I looked, about the state of my being. This wasn’t some mask I could just take off.
She squatted at the edge of the pier and whispered a call to me. “Master Mayhem.”
When I was sure no one was looking, I reached with two long boneless limbs and pulled her through the air to me. She giggled until she was submerged up to her waist in cold sea water, at which point she gasped and I regretted she was chilled, but I didn’t want to let her go. I felt warmer when she wrapped her arms tight around my shoulders.
“My Master,” she said with a smile and kissed me.
Chapter 10
Kumiko
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Pushing my way through heavy doors, I stop before I enter completely. I look about the hall filled with shelves high and wide of books, but the racket I’m hearing—the banging and cursing, is not what I’d expect to hear from the inside of a library.
“Fuck this stupid piece of shit.” I hear a woman cry.
Making my way in, I head to the checkout counter to find a fair-skinned woman beating up a copy machine. She hits it with her hands a few times and I force a cough to divert her attention.
The thin woman wearing a long black skirt with a cheap white rayon shirt showing her cami top through turns to me. She looks me up and down through her large rimmed glasses and furrows her brow. She doesn’t approve of my attire—frayed, short denim shorts and a purple halter-top that shows off my tattoo. The clash of our attire is an attestation of our age difference, which I suspect must span nearly a decade.
“I can’t help you today, Kumiko,” she says.
“How’d you know my name?”
“I know a lot about you. I’m the town librarian and historian, among other things.”
“You know, it’s a little creepy you say that yet I have no idea who you are other than what I’m assuming is the librarian.”
“Shelley didn’t tell you about me?” she asks, fixing her glasses with one hand as she keeps hitting the big green button on the machine with the other.
“Athena?”
“That’s right.” She smiles cockily.
“Athena, I don’t think that machine is going to work no matter how many times you keep pushing that button.”
She kicks the copy machine and it lights up. She clasps her hands together and does a little dance. “Oh please!”
I look at the mess of papers and books Athena has sprawled about. It looks like she’s attempted to put together a flyer of some sort. SAVE THE DOLPHINS TOWN HALL MEETING: 7pm @ The Library, it says at the top. She’s added a portrait of one the mammals, which she cut out of a book and below the image she added, FREE FOOD.
More banging resumes, except it’s not Athena. It’s the copy machine sounding as if it’s whacking at itself from the inside before it finally craps out.
“No,” she whines and stomps a few times like a toddler.
I feel bad she’s so frustrated, but I’m also glad. Maybe she’ll pay attention to me now. “Sooooooo, do you have a minute?” I ask.
She sighs and turns to me, running her gaze over my tattoo. “You died,” she says.
I’m so frustrated. “Why does everybody keep saying that?!”
Athena forces a half grin. “Sit down,” she grumbles. “I’ll get the book.”
The Book. Shelley talked about it, but I wasn’t listening. Athena has some special book all about Henry and his sea mates. Henry this. Henry that. Henry’s a fish then he’s a man. I still can’t come to grips with all of it despite everything I’ve seen.
When Athena comes to sit next to me in a hard wooden chair at one of the tables, she spreads the infamous book open in front of me. I am reminded of what Shelley tried to tell me—something about Henry and his mates being stabbed by a fork.
It was funny at the time, but seeing the disturbing drawing of a slave with a trident—each prong drawn with a man impaled upon it, brings bile to the back of my throat. I swallow hard when I see the man in the middle
who resembles someone I’ve only recently met—Orphelius.
Confusion plagues me for in the drawing he has legs, not tentacles. My heart floats above the bile in my esophagus. I feel my cheeks warm and the corners of my mouth can’t help but turn upward when I see a sword in his hand. A replay of this morning briefly plays through my mind as I imagine Orphelius with legs and a sword, instead of birds, and he comes crashing through the window to save me from being violated.
I run my fingertips across the page.
“Don’t touch it,” Athena warns like the book is as special as the men and their stories.
It is in that moment in which I finally do feel like they are special—Henry and Orphelius, the mermen. Regardless of how it happened, Orphelius did save me this morning.
“Have you met him yet?” asks Athena pointing to the stabbed Orphelius.
