The larva, to be known as Aspido, drifted on the deep-sea currents with its many siblings. Having no concept of time or any real thought, it was only governed by instinctual reaction, snacking on free-floating particles and being lucky to not get consumed by predators. One day it grew too large to be carried and sank to the bottom of the ocean floor, where it now had to move on its own without the current to help. It kept itself safe from predators by burrowing under rocks and sand but kept its feelers hanging out in the water to eat plankton and particles, occasionally sticking the rear end out to expel waste. Every so often, something would nibble off some feelers, forcing Aspido to eviscerate its own toxic guts and escape to dig in a different spot. Here, it would continue the usual routine as new organs grew back.
Unlike so many of its sea cucumber cousins, Aspido was of an order shortly predating the existence of its relatives. Instead of dying after eight to ten years like ordinary echinoderm, this order could pass the common lifespan, which allowed virtual nonstop growth. The kings and empires a single specimen outlived, with only myths and legends based off rare and misidentified encounters, were a testament to their longevity. They could grow while time plodded on twenty, fifty, a hundred, a thousand, or more years. With age, predators turned into prey when the aimless, drifting feelers gained proactivity, grabbing for anything swimming or crawling, living or dead, animal or mineral, that would fit into the mouth. What used to be little feet that could walk a miniscule fraction of a mile per day, became elephantine pillars with the ability to walk a thousand.
By the time Aspido ceased its growth, it was almost a half mile wide, a mile long, and around the height of an average skyscraper. This marine leviathan travelled around the oceans, yet above all else, preferred to bury itself and rest years at a time. During these times, it excreted viscid toxins from its back, which caused various sediments, rocks, and debris to calcify, coalesce, and grow quickly on top. These collections developed into a thick crusty layer that protected life from the toxic skin, leading to reefs and roller demons choosing the location as their home. Periodically, a sunken ship would descend the depths of the ocean to settle on the mass as well. Whenever Aspido was on the move, looking for a new home while grazing miles of debris-carpeted seafloor, much of its pseudo-shell stayed on its body.
Over the later years, the waters Aspido had grown used to started to change. The environment became uncomfortable, food less nutritious, and the reefs were dying. Sensing the increased unsuitability of its surroundings, Aspido ventured for parts unexplored, eating anything in its path. Eventually reaching a relatively shallow point of the ocean, it probed the normally dry space above the sea, finding the realm to be wetter than in the past, so it continued moving further. Soon it reached a spot felt to be just right and dug into the sand. It buried itself under the sand at an angle, violently oscillating the ground, upheaving mountains of water, and causing the sand to girdle the back pseudo-shell while cascading over the rest of the body. The hulking, nodular behemoth pushed forward and persisted until coming to a complete stop a few nautical miles away from the coastline, where it slept deeply after the lengthy journey.
A stabbing pain in its back awoke Aspido from its slumber early. It rose from the sands and up into the sky to defend itself, while releasing air from the rear end to rapidly stabilize its bodily equilibrium out of the water. Aspido’s reaction to danger was then replaced by something far more demanding: hunger. The sensitive nerve endings sensed movement close by. Bending towards the surrounding water, its tentacled feelers plunged into the sea for prey. Scooping up the sources of those vibrations, it promptly shoved them into its mouth and swallowed. It didn’t hear the screams of the sailors, yet if it did have the ears to do so, no noise of terror would’ve dissuaded the power of a prehistoric, predatory instinct. Once finished with whatever was adjacent, Aspido sensed even more movement not too far from its location. Diving back into the water, the enormous echinoderm lumbered towards Milton’s Haven.
Meanwhile, the people of Milton’s Haven didn’t see what happened, but they heard it. The booms of the explosions were what hit them first, with a relative few closer to the shores happening to notice darkened clouds passing over the ocean horizon. Those who weren’t aware of the day’s naval operations thought it all to be signs of a coming thunderstorm, while those who did know, watched as the smoke and debris reach the sky above the destroyed island’s location; several swore they saw something else rise. Then, the distant and thunderous bellowing of something massive echoed throughout the town and resident disaster evacuee campgrounds. No one knew what it was or where it came from. The tsunami sirens sounded, heralding the arrival of another massive wave, causing people to scramble further inland, up a tall enough building, or one of the stilted shelters erected since the first disaster.
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The wave came rolling in, washing away anything not attached to the ground. This one was a comparatively smaller wave and all of which could’ve been damaged or destroyed, had already been from where the waters swelled initially. Though moderately effected by the disaster prior, unlike Newport, Milton’s Haven’s higher altitude above ocean level largely spared the seaside town from the original tsunami’s wrath. However, those in high structures noticed something approaching the coastal shores underneath the ocean. As it neared, the seawater’s surface slowly bulged, soon becoming wide and skyscraper-like in size. A more pronounced shape formed, out from which Aspido then arose, announcing its presence with another windy, back-ended din.
The people of Milton’s Haven gazed upon Aspido in awe, unable to properly comprehend what loomed before them. The creature unfurled its feelers and slammed them onto land, first demolishing the stilted shelters near the beach. It proceeded to lift one of its branched appendages into its gullet, gobbling up the decimated structure along with its dead and dying occupants. Finished slurping in its quarry, the cleaned feeler would be sent crashing back down to the earth to retrieve more food, as the next feeler got lifted towards the mouth. Like a massive harvesting machine working in slow motion, the monster mowed through Milton’s Haven, grinding and eating anything and anyone it touched. Buildings, plants, dirt, animals, people, vehicles, all found their way down the canyonesque throat. Fear-stricken crowds ran, and vehicles sped away for safety, both sometimes colliding into one another. All desperately tried to escape the gargantuan juggernaut, but so many didn’t survive.
The military had an armored brigade already positioned to defend the coast just in case any roller demons escaped past the navy during the initial bombing. Units not too far from Milton’s Haven mobilized to confront Aspido. By the time they arrived, over a third of the town was fully consumed. The massive sea creature had stopped moving further inland to stabilize and prevent its suffocation from the lack of water.
Self-propelled artillery readied themselves on the outside of town, attack helicopters circled the area, and tanks moved in as close as possible without getting within Aspido’s reach. After a passing moment, the artillery opened fire, striking the front end and back. The tanks followed in the assault, aiming mostly at the feet. The helicopters were the last to join in the fray, focusing on the back and rear end. Shells blew off chunks of flesh and blasted apart legs. The small caliber bullets bounced off the skin, but larger caliber bullets punched lines of holes, exploding and scalding the entry wounds. Rockets and missiles scorched wherever they impacted and gouged.
Aspido staggered and thrashed from the harrowing stings of the onslaught. That was when it raised its rear out of the water and, with a loud cacophonous bellow before emitting a sound barrier-shattering explosion, shot out a powerful, geyser-like blast of giant, viscous, milky-white organs into the sky. The military helicopters tried evasive maneuvers to avoid the expanding umbrella of expelled innards, but the amount, size, and oncoming speed proved too much, as the aircraft collided with the huge, ropey, and thick substances. It all continued to fly upwards, spreading out across the air, until gravity took hold to send them back down. Ground units tried retreating but were trapped or squashed underneath by the heavy viscera. The rest of Milton’s Haven, which was spared from the deadly march, was destroyed when the weight of the guts draped themselves over whatever was left standing. Now lighter and with its enemies neutralized, Aspido turned back towards the ocean and made its way underwater. By the time it completely disappeared beneath the waves, and earth ceased to tremble from its proximity, Milton’s Haven was left in ruins and trapped under a toxic mass of offal. A third tragedy for the coastline to bear.