There was a snap, Willy's head breaking clean off her shoulders as the rat bit and chewed, snapping her body to pieces and tearing her innards apart.

Her head was ice. Her body was ice. Her innards were clear, undifferentiated ice, and the rat tore chunks, chips and shavings from her, its monstrous forward incisors doing as they had evolved to do.

Willy didn't care, or at least, she normally wouldn't have. All she would have felt was a little annoyance at being waylaid, little hot bubbles and ripples in her water. Now, however, she faced more turbulence forced in from outside, a powerful intrusion that filled her with exploding geysers of steam. They churned her waters violently, a turbulence that went down deeper than just the surface. Her head, floating in the floodwaters, throbbed with nameless pressure that had no source or reason, only existence, filling her mind constantly with reminders that TAMMY WASN'T WAKING UP! It reminded her of her parents telling her again and again how she was doing things wrong, calling her willful and disobedient, punishing her with chores and spankings and emotional blackmail about how they loved her and were only doing what was best for her so she should do what they said that had hurt because she had thought she had cared what they thought of her because they said they loved her, because they had told her to, because they had said she should, and it mixed vilely with the tainted slimy waters carried down by the rain…

Her ice vibrated with her scream of rage, and Willy exploded. Chunks of ice, torrents of water and her own clouds of steam went hurtling in all directions, driven by great pressure and expanding hot gasses. It caught the rat, pushing it back in a wave of water that swept bones, tattered clothes, corpses and bodies with it and slammed it all into the glass front of a small beauty salon where everyone was standing on chairs to avoid the flooding. Willy ignored the screams as more water began to rush into the salon through the thin openings around the glass door, but the glass held as the rat twisted upright, only for the water around it—Willy's water—to solidify into ice. It screamed in panic, loud and high-pitched as it flailed, the ice continuing to vibrate as she was swept away by the heat and turbulence in her waters. The ice locked the rat into place and Willy twisted her ice, making it flow as it pulled on the trapped limbs. The hindquarters turned one way as the head and front turned in the other, and the rat screamed again in agony as a new, burning warmth erupted in its waters.

Tammy had once told her good girls didn't hurt animals. But this wasn't an animal, right? It was a monster, like the plague dog and the spider and the Lava Horse…

The rat exploded again, steam and boiling water rushing from it, but it didn't matter. Willy held her ice, kept it cold as the water exploded from the rat's head, tail and the end of one limb not covered in ice. They blasted out like streams from a hose that had a finger over the end to narrow the stream, sweeping over the water and upward. Boiling water and steam slammed into the windows and small openings of the buildings on the other side of the street, the water momentarily diluting the darkly polluted colors of the flood as the two waters mixed. She felt turbulence in the water, more spots of burning hot cold slush turning to chunks of ice as screams came from inside the houses that had been doused, even as she felt more and more explosive geysers suddenly appearing in other parts of the water around her, sending more echoes of turbulence across her waters that resonated with the pain in her head, the pain that twisted her inside, reminding her that TAMMY WASN'T WAKING UP!

Willy pushed it down as meaningless, kept trying to force her own waters still and push back the effects of the waters around her. Her ice vibrated harder, the scream it hadn't stopped making growing louder, more inhuman as she twisted and something inside the rat snapped. It screamed as she twisted it all the way around like she was squeezing water out of a towel, felt vibrations through her ice as the rat's heartbeat, lungs labored, and it fought uselessly against her entrapment, still shooting out streams of boiling water and steam from its extremities. It didn't matter. The boiling water and turbulence coursed through her, filling her with…

Tendons ripped from muscle and bone. Skin tore, still encased in ice. Blood poured from wounds, gushing boiling water and her ice shattered in the middle of the two halves, brittle in the face of hydraulic pressure. There was an explosion of blood, water and ice, and the glass of the beauty salon cracked and shattered. There was no one to scream, those beyond unconscious from the sudden surge of flood water that had lapped at their feet as the salon filled with steam, ice and gore shattering the mirrors, cracking the TV that hung in one corner. Boiling water exploded from the suddenly-open guts of the rat's front half, even as it screamed again and again in agony, filling the ruined salon, flooding it as Willy rebuilt her ice body, fusing with the chunks of ice she'd left in the shoes so she wouldn't lose hem and need to find another pair. The hindquarters were encased, but it was all she could do to keep the ice she already had wrapped on its front half in place as more and more boiling water gushed from the rat. It had stopped bleeding as water gushed from its wounds and veins, its inside roiling…

Still the steam and boiling turbulence filled Willy's waters, making her ice vibrate with her screams of frustration as she fused her new arm to the ice around the rat, slamming it down into the submerged tiles of the ruined salon, her other hand clenched into a fist as she hammered violently at the rat's head. Every impact broke her hand, chunks of fingers and knuckles flying off, but she grew it back, a rough mace with which she tried to crush in the rat's skull, the turbulence all around her pouring in a she stopped fighting, simply venting the steam as best as she could from her waters as she hammered and hammered and screamed. The violence didn't make the geysers the rat raised inside her abate, but it felt so good and she needed to feel good, because TAMMY WASN'T WAKING UP—!

Good girls don't throw tantrums.

The thought came, and it was almost physically painful, even when she was made of ice and could feel nothing but vibrations and temperature and impact, to stop herself, to stop her fist before it could slam into the rat once more. Her ice still vibrated, screaming, and she made it stop, even as she felt like she would shake herself apart trying to hold back her voice. Tantrum. She was throwing a tantrum. The rat's steam and boiling pressure filled her mind, and she forced herself to think clearly and rationally, fighting through the turbulence that pushed at her waters from every side, filling her with nervous energy, the sensation that her legs itched, that she had to DO SOMETHING, TAMMY WASN'T WAKING UP,

In her grip, the rat continued to squirm and flail and gnaw, still gushing boiling water. A current had formed, the water gushing out from the ruined salon joining the floodwaters in the streets creating a torrent as it flowed to either side. Willy stared at the rat and knew she had to devour it. It was how to defeat these monsters, these nightmares made flesh… Tammy had said so.

Willy didn't know how.

Deep within her, far from the surface, where even the turbulence of the boiling and steam and vile tainted slime had not reached, the squatter inside her was silent. Not whimpering, not hiding, not overwhelmed by the smallest vibration in the waters… silent, still and sleeping. There were no urges within her, no bubbles filled with emptiness that demanded to be filled. None of the strange, unknowable, eldritch instinct that didn't correspond to any sensation she knew, the way Tammy had described it in whispers in the dark after they had returned from Tagaytay, the desire to feed, to do more than feed that had made Tammy try to drink her when her little cousin wasn't completely aware, and instinct that no doubt came from the squatter Tammy's head…

Yet filled with the boiling and the steam and the pressure and the stress, Willy tried anyway.

Water poured out from her form, falling into the flood but not mixing with it, held tightly in her control as she made it surround the submerged, bifurcated rat. Thick and viscous, the water resisted the diluting force of the rush of boiling water and steam from the rat, surrounding it. When she felt the pressure weaken, the flow cease, Willy struck, surrounding the rat in her water, and sought to crush it from all sides, trying to match the sensations she had felt when she had been near devouring before. She pressed, forcing her water to squeeze in from all sides. She felt the rat squirm, and it grew hot, but her pressure kept it from releasing. Her ice was vibrating again, a low, constant growl of frustration as she pressed, felt the snap of bones breaking, the crack of what was left of the skull imploding, the guts being pushing out of the broken ribcage as it was crushed…

Deep within, hiding, buried, in the darkest part of her soul, held down by empty weights of inexorable gravity, the squatter whimpered and stirred, instinct overcoming weakness.

Willy felt it. It was forced and painful as if someone who'd been holding their breath had been punched in the stomach and had to breath—good girls didn't punch people in the stomach just because they were annoyed—but it was there, a terrible convulsion, and suddenly the depths were dark and deep and endless and everything was sinking into the infinite sea…

—whirling water spinning faster and faster, cold slush that was congealing into chunks, burning hot water, cold, cold, cold, shot through with burning water (PAIN!)—

—Boiling water. Steam. Bubbles of emptiness. Bubbles of emptiness, carried on whirling water. Boiling water. Steam. Pressure. Whirling water. Cold. Cold. Coldslush. Slush. Slushchips. Chips of ice. Chips of icechunks of ice. Chunks of ice. Chunks. Chunks chunks chunks in whirling water…—

Willy felt like she was choking, like she'd eaten something to big without opening her mouth widely enough, hadn't chewed enough. She didn't have a throat, but something felt lodged in it, tight and squirming and chunks of ice chunks of ice whirling water fear fear fear terror terror terror confusion as she moved by some strange, eldritch instinct, forcing herself to pull it in deeper, and deeper into the dark depths—

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And her mind was clear, the boiling water and steam gone, leaving only the turbulence they had caused and the vile, tainted slime that came from the rain. The change was abrupt, and she slowly stopped vibrating her ice as she realized her waters were no longer forcefully filled with the boiling water, steam and pressure. Around her, she could feel the receding ripples as the many people around her started calming down as well, although some seemed to be retaining the turbulence, and actually sustaining it. Pushing the turbulence away from her waters was no more difficult than normal, however, and Willy was able to do so, even if it took time. Though she had no lungs to fill, no throat and nose to breathe through, Willy felt an urge to take deep, calming breaths.

Deep within her, the squatter stirred restlessly, sleeping but not tranquilly.

Good.

What was left of the rat was still encased in her watery grip. The bones had been crushed, the meat and hair pressed together. She forced herself to let go, and there was a brief rush of water as all that mass under pressure was released, splashing the insides of the ruined salon before rushing out into the street one last time. Willy followed after it, her shoe-clad icy feet calmly continuing the path she'd been taking before she was interrupted as she walked towards the direction where the feeling of tainted slime was growing stronger. Her brief encounter had generated a lot of water that was even now being carried off, and soon the water was back to the level of flooding caused by the rain and overflowing river.

She continued on, leaving the ruined salon behind her, the water inside it full of floating bodies.

––––––––––––––––––

Willy kept walking until she felt the sensation of tainted, viscous slime growing just the slightest bit weaker instead of stronger. It was faint, subtle change, but Willy had been intent and paying attention. There was nothing else to do, after all, and it was not in her to be anything less than thorough and meticulous about the things she set out to do. She paused when she realized, looking around as she did, and turning towards the narrow alley she had just passed. Barely wide enough to a tricycle pedicab, much less a car, it led away from the river, and as she walked towards it, the taint on her waters began to grow stronger again. She stepped through the narrow alley between the squat, two-story houses on either side, the sounds around her drowned out by the constant, driving rain.

She used a burst of water to push away a dead dog, already starting to bloat as it began to rot, not wanting to use her hands. Tammy had said she should never directly touch dirty things like that if she could help it, or else she'd get sick. Willy momentarily considered the implication that the rain seemed to have no effect on bacterial life, not putting them into any sort of sleep, before discarding the thought as pointless and irrelevant. She kept walking, following the sensation that echoed the rain. From one house she was passing, an age-stained wooden thing whose first floor looked almost completely submerged already, someone suddenly started screaming. The voice was loud and sounded hysterical, calling for help, saying that their grandmother felt cold, that she needed to get to a hospital, to please take her there, please, they would give anything—!

Willy ignored the pointless noise, walking past it as the voice screamed even louder, asking someone to please come back and help. It had nothing to do with her. She needed to find the cause of this so Tammy would finally wake up. Thankfully, the voice eventually faded into crying, though she had push back the turbulence being caused.

Somewhere in the middle of the alley, Willy stopped and turned around. On one side, a tall, three-story building of unpainted, rough cement, barely ten feet wide, its walls pushed right up to the edge of what could laughably be considered the property line. Its metal, hinged windows with its protective bars were rusting through the pale putty that kept the cracked glass in place, and there were stains of lichen on its walls. The sensation of was strongest here, and Willy could actually feel the turbulence of someone's waters filled with nothing but tainted, thick, viscous, burning slime that fizzed with empty bubbles. It filled them completely, so much that Willy had to struggle to keep the turbulence away from her.

The house seemed to stand in silence, any sound from within drowned out by the rain. Willy gave it a cursory examination, wondering what sort of monster inside it was causing the rain, then shrugged. Well, she'd deal with it and wake up Tammy. She knocked on the front door, because Tammy had taught her that was how you announced yourself to a house you had never been to before, but she barely heard it over the rain. She tried again, louder this time, but there was still no response. Her frustrated and not very good girl attempt to kick the door was impeded by the water, which unbalanced her as she moved her leg quickly enough to overcome its resistance, only to fall over as a result.

When Willy got back to her feet, she tried the doorknob. To her satisfaction and disapproval, it was unlocked and once turned the door swung open easily, or as easily as it could with water behind it. These people… Tammy said that you should always look the door of the house so that no one unwelcome could come inside. Shaking her head at people that didn't follow what Tammy had said was common sense, Willy stepped inside and locked the door behind her. There, now the house was secure.

With the door closed, the insides were dark, and only a weak, gray light managed to enter from the windows due to the overcast outside. The waters came up to Willy's waist, which was above stomach-level for most people. She took a moment to discern details. The first floor seemed one big room, with a narrow stairway barely three feet wide to her immediate left. Most of the furnishings in the first floor were under water, but on the far wall were what seemed like overhead cabinets made from mismatched pieces of board, likely scavenged. There was also a tall, heavy display case made of old, dark wood, its insides filled with dusty glass cups and plates and assorted miscellaneous things.

She turned towards the staircase, walking carefully as she climbed up the wooden steps, their dark finish long since worn thin, revealing the wood underneath that had also been worn smooth with time and use. The steps creaked under her weight, and she hoped she wouldn't slip as she followed the source of the turbulence.

The upstairs were equally dark, the only light coming from the windows on the wall that case the street. Willy looked around and saw a light switch, flicking it on. The light flickered for a moment, then died. This close, the turbulence seemed to be coming from everywhere. Undeterred, Willy began checking the rooms as the ceiling above creaked. One, the furthest from the windows and the darkest, was a cramped bathroom. The only other room on this floor was a bedroom, its cramped confines filled with a large bed big enough for her and Tammy to sleep on comfortably, an old boxy TV of dark plastic, and a dark wooden wardrobe that looked like it weighed more than the bed and the TV put together. The bed had been made, though not very neatly, and there were shoes lined up along one wall, where in the tight confines they were a tripping hazard.

The ceiling creaked, and though Willy didn't need to look up, she stared at the ceiling. It creaked again. Again. Again.

Something was upstairs.

She readied to shoot steam from one hand as a sharp, pointed icicle grew from the other, and was surprised at how readily steam came. What had once seemed like slowly and deliberately willing a finger to move now came like a snap, instant and sudden, and she had to restrain herself to keep from suddenly shooting out the steam then and there. No, not just steam… steam and boiling water.

Willy stared at her hand, then shrugged. It was probably just the devouring she had done. She hoped she could repeat it, since she would likely need to devour this monster as well. She discarded her shoes, stepping out of them as she collapsed into thick, viscous water, taking a round, undulating shape similar to what Tammy had called a 'slime' as she oozed up the stairs to distribute her weight and keep it from creaking. She could feel the vibrations of the wood as the stairs shifted with her weight, and once she reached the top, she reformed once more, icicle and steaming geyser ready. It was hard to hear anything more over the rain and the sound of it thundering down on the metal roof, only feet above her, but her ice could feel vibrations through the wooden floor, and through that perceived the creaking. It was louder now, more constant and repetitive compared to what she had heard from below. So close, the turbulence was incessant, and despite her best efforts it pounded over her waters.

The floor was as dark as the one below, but there were only two rooms. She moved to the nearest door, which was slightly ajar, and stuck in the point of her icicle into the crack. The room was dark, but she saw no movement, and all was silent.

A bit farther ahead, the creaking continued. The other room was far from the windows, and would probably be completely shrouded in darkness. Still, it was the only one left. Willy moved towards it quietly. It was best to attack a monster when it was unaware, or so Tammy had said about why she had made a mistake attacking the Lava Horse as she had when Kim had been staying back and observing. Willy wouldn't make the same mistake again. She'd get in close, stay unobserved, and attack in a way that would cripple the monster instantly so it could be devoured.

The creaking grew louder and louder as Willy reached the door and it wasn't just because she was getting closer. Whatever was moving was growing more energetic. Willy kicked open the door, her arm snapping up release a spray of boiling water, then paused at what she saw. There was a window in this room, unlike the other rooms below. It was a small horizontal frame of glass that opened up to let air in, but it was a window, and it allowed in enough of the gray outside light for her to see. Like the other rooms, it was cramped, and a bed took up most of the space as well as a plastic wardrobe and drawers.

On the bed, a figure was sitting upright, staring at her with an expression of shock and surprise. Willy felt the waters that she had been pressed to keep away from her, so full of thick, viscous slime, suddenly explode in a whirling maelstrom and rapidly heating currents. In the dim light, backlit by the window, the figure was just an outline, but from the silhouette they were probably female, and—

They screamed, their arms crossing over their chest for some reason. "WHO ARE YOU? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!-!-!-!-!"

—they were sitting on top of someone on the bed. The other person lay still and unmoving, elastic shorts pulled down around their ankles…

Water suddenly dripped on Willy, pulling her gaze up towards the ceiling. It was bare wooden beams supporting a metal roof sheets, and water was dripping down from them, even though they hadn't been when she had entered.

"GO TO SLEEP! GO TO SLEEP, GO TO SLEEP, GO TO SLEEP!" the female voice cried shrilly as more and more water began to drip down on Willy from the roof. "Forget that you saw anything! Go to sleep! Go to—" The words cut off as eyes went wide, and there was a scream. Willy felt it as the slime became cold and slush, congealed into chips and then chunks, but no less thick and viscous. "Monster! Monster!"

Willy's full attention snapped back towards them at those words as she felt the floor vibrate through her legs. "You," she said, her icy form vibrating like a speaker to make herself heard. "You're the one causing the rain. You're the one causing the sleep." She took a step forward into the room. "Stop what you're doing, right now!"

"No, no! He's mine now, I've made him mine!" the young woman grabbed something on the bed, threw it at Willy. The small bottle of some clear fluid simply bounced off her ice as the vibrations grew stronger. "Stay back! Stay away from me, monster!"

"Stop the rain!" Willy cried, trying to be heard over the woman's yelling. The turbulence she was causing and pushing towards Willy was extremely annoying, but Willy persevered, working through it. "Stop the rain so I can wake her up! Stop the—"

With a final vibration that shook the flimsy wooden walls of the room, floodwater rushed up the stairs, slamming into Willy from behind and into the back wall of the house as another scream sounded.