Modern firearms weren’t a problem, not for his men, they had ways of protecting themselves against hand-held guns. He had a good crew, and the lieutenants were more than capable of handling the bog-standard light-touched that wanted to pick a fight. They could take care of themselves, up until they faced something like this. What could an ordinary person do against a naval destroyer with its cannons pointed in their direction? What could the average light-touched do? Isolated, on the water, on very sinkable ships.
Amos wasn’t average, of course, but he hadn’t come expecting a fight. He’d come to do the final direction for getting the Mariana Base up and running. He was set to return to that hero camp in just a day or so once the members of his team settled in. Neither of them said it, neither of them had to say it, but there was an unspoken understanding: Amos was under Kingshark’s protection. The entire crew was under his protection. And these fuckers just fired a cannon at them! Kingshark snarled as he pushed through the water, moving faster, faster, faster.
He opened his mouth and released a click of sound. Everything around him came into perspective. Big Red and the Commodore were waiting in the wings, ready to move if they needed to. They were good against light vessels, but a goddamn destroyer? No. They’d have to hang back. Amos looked like he was already moving the yacht and the cargo ship was trying to pull around to give the battleship its profile. It wouldn’t help much but it would do a little to mitigate damage. Kingshark’s lips peeled back as he drew the water around himself, carrying himself forward like a torpedo.
The pirates were pests. The navy was a threat. Pests were swatted, used to test out new things. Threats on the other hand? Threats were crushed.
As Kingshark opened his mouth he felt his chest begin to rumble soundlessly. His eyes lit up, a red glow suffusing them. His thick leathery scales turned darker and darker. Above him, in the open air, for everyone to hear, the sea groaned.
–
The whispers came first.
Captain Oswald of the USS Barclay peered through his binoculars, frowning a little when he lowered them. The bastard jumped in. He glanced down at the young man sitting next to him. A seasoned radar technician. The tech’s hands were a blur as he made adjustments, shifting the radar to look for smaller objects rather than large ones. It reduced the significant range of the radar, but not by much. The captain glanced at the screen and saw a ripple appear that swept across the visible area, washing over their ship and the two enemy vessels.
“What was that?” He asked.
“Radar ping, Captain,” The tech said, “Came from something that shouldn’t be big enough to do that.”
The Captain glanced over his shoulder at the communications station, “We recording everything?”
“Yes Captain,” The tech at the station said, “Streaming it all back.”
“Good,” The captain nodded, “We’ll get what intel we can on him, secure their ships, and find out what they were looking for down there.”
“I still think they’re building something,” A voice spoke up from the side. The Captain glanced over irritably towards the stuffy looking man with the Pandora pin on his lapel. He didn’t like that this guy had basically swept in and tried to take over his ship. “It’s a shame that the pirates didn’t get us more intelligence, couldn’t see a thing through all that mist,” The Pandora suit said, adjusting his tie and looking just a little bored. Behind him, a muscular man with dark eyes stared the Captain down. Apparently he was a new member of the international team who specialized in sea combat.
Harrow or something, I can’t remember. He doesn’t talk much. The captain thought as he frowned at the pushy man, “I still don’t appreciate you using locals as bait,” He snarled, “This is a Navy Operation, not some-”
Brian… The voice was so soft. He blinked and turned around, frowning at the radar tech, “Did you say something?” He asked.
The radar tech looked equally confused at him, “I heard somethin-”
Let’s play! The voice was a childs now.
The Captain shook his head, he felt heavy all of a sudden. He rubbed his nose and shook his head again and reached to grab hold of the tech's shoulder. The young man felt rigid, he glanced down at the guy’s face. He was pale as a sheet, trembling. The Captain gave him a rough shake, “Come out of it! What’s happening down there?” He demanded, squinting at the screen. It flickered and blinked, dots appearing and then disappearing all over the place. “Finch!” He shouted at the Tech.
“Mist spotted off the bow!” One man on the bridge called. “It’s spreading around the base of the ship.”
I’ll be there soon. That soft voice again, his wife's voice? He blinked again and shook his head before turning to the crewman, “I want armed men around the-”
“He’s here,” Came a voice that the Captain didn’t immediately recognize. He turned in its direction and saw that Harrow had stepped up, his expression grim as he stared out over the deck of the ship. Oswald followed his gaze and felt his blood run cold. Mist had filled the sea around the ship, creeping across the water that had fallen terribly still. In fact, the entire ocean looked like a sea of glass. He watched the mist start to climb up the sides of the ship, creeping like moss. His men were already on the deck, backing away from the mist with their weapons raised.
“Engineering just called, we’re losing speed!” Another officer called.
Oswald whipped his head in their direction, “What? What do you mean losing speed?”
“They can’t explain it, Captain, it’s like the propeller isn’t moving the water!” The officer said quickly, “We’re slowing down!”
“His hydrokinesis has advanced again,” The Pandora Committee suit said with a scoff, “Damn monster.”
The Captain spun on his heel and marched towards the man, past the hulking hero, and grabbed him by his pretty little suit, he tugged him to his feet and got in his face, “Are you going to explain that or keep acting like some two-bit-” He trailed off as he noticed the sweat beading on the man’s brow. He narrowed his eyes and let the man go. “Elaborate,” He growled.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“We know Kingshark’s ability has a hydrokinetic function, he can manipulate water. We’ve seen him use it as a weapon a few times, projecting and controlling it, but never to this… scale,” The suit said hesitantly, glancing towards Harrow, “I suspect he is manipulating the water around the propellers, preventing them from pushing it, leaving us stuck.”
Come out! Let’s play outside! A child's voice again, his son.
He shook off the wave of weakness again and watched as the suit grew pale as well, “You’re hearing it too?” He demanded.
“Voices, yes, family, friends,” The suit said before glancing at Harrow again, “Can you handle him?”
Harrow unbuttoned his shirt and started to march towards the door leading out of the bridge, “Leave it to me. The sea is mine, not his,” He grunted and made his way out, the door shutting behind him.
Oswald looked away from the suit and towards the deck. Mist was now at ankle height for his crew. He turned to the communication’s officer. “Give the order to pull every man back off the deck, this isn’t our fight anymore,” He growled, “Send a distress signal back to the fleet. Let them know we might need backup,” There was a pause, no response, he frowned, “Officer Adams! I gave you an order!” He barked and marched over to the man, “Officer Adams did you not-” He grabbed the man’s shoulder and pulled him back.
Mad eyes looked up at him joined with a terrified smile, tears ran down Officer Adam’s cheeks, “Momma said not to talk to strangers, Captain, momma said, momma said, momma-”
Oswald reared back and punched the poor guy, knocking him out cold. He snatched up the headset that the unconscious man was wearing and put it on his head. Only static came back to him. He pushed the chair aside and began turning the dial to the fleet frequency, crackling and static burned in his ears as mist began to pour out of the seams around the screen. Something popped and the screen went dead. He tossed the headset down, “Damn it!” He snarled, reaching for the intercom. I’ll just order the cannons from here and blow that ship to kingdom come, at least we’ll stop whatever it is he’s planning!
Honey, why are you so busy on your vacation? That soft voice again, warm in his head, he blinked a few times and tried to shake it off. Honey, you need to rest more. How often do we get to spend time together? His hand flinched away from the intercom. He tried to reach for it again but it felt like a delicate hand was pulling his own away from it. Every instinct in his brain screamed at him to resist, to act, to do anything, to give the order to fire. He felt something wet stream down his face and looked down at the teardrop on his boot. Mist was boiling around it.
He could hear a voice somewhere, where? Who was talking to him about work during his vacation? He needed to focus on his wife, after all. He needed to go outside and play with his son. He heard a bellow somewhere nearby but it barely mattered. Someone grabbed him by the arm and he looked to see that strange man in the suit. What was his name? He was saying something. He felt a hand strike his face but it was just… numb.
“Captain, get a hold of yourself! Give the order to fire!” The Suit bellowed at him, shaking him.
Oswald swayed back and forth with the movement and shook his head, “But my wife said not to work while I’m on vacation,” He said numbly, glancing towards the door where Harrow had gone out, “I need to go play with my son, do it yourself,” He murmured and turned away, My son, I need to go play with my son. He thought as he reached for the door.
There was a click behind him, then a bang.
–
What the hell was happening? There wasn’t any intel on Kingshark having mind influencing powers! Grant gripped the side of his head and staggered, reaching into his pocket and quickly pulling out an earpiece. The whispers were growing louder now, more insistent. He bit down hard on his lip, hard enough to draw blood. Focus! He demanded of himself, Focus damn it! He snarled, shoving the earpiece into his ear and tapping it a few times. A buzzing keen ripped through his head and he coughed as sensation rushed through his body. He gasped and staggered backwards, dropping the gun in his hand.
He looked down at the corpse of the captain, then at the bodies of the other officers on the bridge. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it! He reached up and tugged at his hair, wide-eyed. “What the hell?” He touched the earpiece again, “Oh my god!” The earpiece had been intended to be used on others in an effort to scramble a mind-control ability, using it on oneself was inadvisable. His instincts had saved his mind. He felt nausea run up his throat and turned away from the bodies. The ship shook. He raced towards the window looking out the front of the bridge.
Harrow was standing on top of one of the cannons, his body changing, growing in size. He’d been selected for this purpose, someone who could fight other sea-based light-touched. The very first nautical mythic on the record besides Kingshark himself. The man grew larger and larger as Grant held on. The ship shuddered again, bucking and tossing even in the still sea. The mist was up to his waist now. A chime rang out behind him and he took a step back, glancing at the radar monitor splattered with human blood. There was a mark indicating the ship and something much much bigger beneath it.
He looked out towards the deck, “We’re going to die,” He breathed, and reached for his ear.
–
Harrow felt his body expand, his eyes fell shut as his arms split apart into tendrils that grew and grew and grew. His mass increasing exponentially with each passing moment. He felt his body surrender to the new shape, the concept of separateness between his extremities vanishing into the sea of strength and power that was his mythological form. He felt his tentacles stretch across the deck and slip down towards the water. His powerful maw filled with teeth and clutching tendrils grinding against the metal of the ship beneath him. He was the king of the ocean, the Kraken.
He opened his eyes and took the world in, the whispers from the mist were gone but it still clouded his vision. He drew his barbed tentacles back and swept them out across the ship, readying himself for the fight to come. His body was immune to water, utterly hydrophobic and nearly indestructible. He’d been tested against artillery shells and even a punch from Sapporo himself. He could handle this. He would be the first international hero to take down one of the-
The sea boiled.
The ship shook.
A shape rose from the depths. It kept rising. Bigger. Bigger. Bigger. The mist gathering over the ship and clouding his view. It rose and rose until it towered over the ship, over him, even with his own tremendous bulk he felt so small looking up into those two red eyes that glowed down at him with nothing but malice. He could barely make out its shape, vaguely humanoid with dark gray skin. Long tendrils stretched from its shoulders and face, whipping out and twitching like a living beard. Its dome-like head tilted forward just a fraction to meet his eyes. A low groan washed over the ship, a rumbling discordant sound that pressed into Harrow’s mind and clawed at his insides. It was like insects skittering over his brain.
The beast, the monster opened its mouth and revealed rows upon rows of ever-moving razor sharp teeth. It was like looking into a blender. He felt his tentacles retract almost on instinct, his body coiling in on itself in an effort to flee, every cell in his body panicked, screaming to retreat from the nightmare given flesh. No! I have to fight it! It’s an illusion! It’s-
A hand reached out and grabbed hold of his body.
It’s real.
He was lifted into the air, tons of weight handled like a child. He whipped his tentacles, trying to dig barbs into flesh that repelled them like dull knives. His mind tried to comprehend what he was looking at, tried to give sense to the shape as the mist parted. He was pulled closer and closer. He struggled, twisted, thrashing wildly but eventually all he could see was a pair of red eyes gleaming against white mist and blackness. A voice entered his mind, deep, rumbling, like the sound of crashing water.
I AM THE KING OF THE SEA, LITTLE MAN, AND YOU WILL OBEY.