Tiller was the first to notice something was wrong. He stood up, yelling that something had just swum underneath us as he began firing into the water. Each shot shattered the surface of the water like a cannon, leaving behind faint blue lines of energy.
Catayla reacted immediately, jumping onto the boat’s canopy roof. The familiar peal of her rifle was like thunder ringing out in quick succession. It was chaos, the rest of us had no idea what was happening. I began to yell out a question, just as Worthy stood up and began barking orders. Bridgette’s hand wavered between her club and rifle before she began firing blindly into the murky water.
“It’s in the water,” Tiller yelled. “Something is circling us, at least ten of them. Probably more. Watch where my shots are landing. If we focus our fire, we can take these things out one at a time.”
Worthy and Bridgett immediately lined up next to Tiller and began to concentrate on the same targets. The blue lines left behind by Tiller’s mana-infused bullets made it easy for the duo to follow his shots, each shot causing the water to churn and kick up large splashes. Every volley was like a bag of bricks being upended into a still pool.
Unfortunately, the creatures were tough and fast. So far, our group had only struck glancing blows. Blood slickened the surface, but no bodies floated upwards. Even Catayla had yet to get a kill.
I paused to look around, taking the time to activate my arcane shield. The water seemed calm, with the exception of the bullets striking the otherwise gentle waves. It was too dark to see beneath the water, and the explosion and collapse of the bridge had kicked up silt and dirt to further muddy the water. I could barely make out areas of the water that seemed darker than the water around them. Faint shadows that were circling us.
The fisher stirred on my shoulder, letting out a fierce battle cry. Instantly, my vision focused, and the forms of my enemies materialized as faint silhouettes with jagged fins and long, powerful tails.
As I watched, the Fisher dove into the water and began changing into an abomination of eyes and tentacles. It was a form I had come to call the ‘Gazer.’ The shape was now healed of damage, no longer burnt or missing eyes and tentacles. The Fisher was no longer ‘borrowing’ a corpse, but instead exploring the limits of its shapeshifting.
I shared the Fisher’s sight, momentarily losing balance as its senses overlaid onto my own. Dozens of creatures with long, slender necks and dolphin-like bodies had surrounded us. Tumors and lacerations lined their bodies, exposing pink flesh beneath pale, grey skin. Each had dagger-like teeth picking out between curved jaws, and long eyestalks growing from their foreheads.
I drew my staff with my left hand, a long, curved blade appearing as the weapon extended to its full length.
The silver chain became alive, unraveling from my arm. It twirled around me like a vortex. Red and black lighting ran down its length, creating thick thorns that dripped with burning energy.
Dark, smoke-like energy flowed through my right arm, ending at my hand. The mist twirled about my fingers before lengthening and solidifying into a spear, black with bits of burning crimson. It smoked and gave off crackling sparks and pale embers.
The javelin was massive, half again as tall as I was and as thick around as my wrist. It was a scaled-up version of a real weapon I had pulled from my memory, something I had seen at the local aquarium. The blade at the tip was jagged and asymmetrical, with a cruel, sickle-like blade that curved behind it.
I didn’t bother creating a line or chain to tether the weapon, as I didn’t want myself, or my boat, dragged under the waves. I would simply create a new weapon after I lost the first.
I slammed my staff-scythe into the deck, allowing it to fuse with the dark energy that flowed through the boat. I could feel the silver chain struggling to join the battle, but I was able to contain it through sheer force of will. I needed it close to defend my allies.
I hurled the harpoon, the Fisher entangling my target with its tentacles as my weapon found its marks. After striking my foe, I dropped the mental concentration to begin creating another spear. I cast them it into the waves again, and again.
Sometimes I hit, and at other times the strange fish would twist out of the Fisher’s grasp to temporarily avoid becoming seafood kabobs. Kill or miss, I continued to throw.
It worked well, quickly landing me five kills. Tiller, Worthy, and Bridgette had collectively managed to take out another two, while Catayla had killed at least four by herself before the school of fish fled, leaving behind floating corpses to bob on the surface of the turbulent river.
“Is that all of them?” I asked.
“I don’t think so,” Tiller replied. “I can’t hear or see anything, but it doesn’t feel finished.”
“You two,” said Worthy. “You need to learn how to keep your fucking mouths shut. You think whatever is out there isn’t listening to us? Paying attention? You jinx us and it’s liable to fuck with us just for kicks.”
“That’s an interesting theory,” said Catayla. “Your words might even hold some wisdom, despite your ignorance. Right now, however, we need to focus. Tiller is right. That was just the opening salvo. Something else is coming. Something … bigger.”
The Fisher felt my rising fear and let out a deep laugh as it dove under the boat, stretching out its tentacles and searching with a hundred eyes. It would be hard to get past its gaze, even in the dark and murky water.
Hard, but not impossible.
The boat lurched as it was brought to an immediate stop, the bow being lifted completely above the water. I could feel the eldritch energy the craft was made from beginning to distort and bend. It took a large part of my focus just to hold the hull together.
Before I had time to process the images I was received from the Fisher, a large tendril of thick, slimy flesh shot out of the water and wrapped around the boat. It wrapped around the boat twice, suckers as large as dinner plates gluing it to the hull.
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Several more tentacles shot out of the water, hanging above us like executioners waiting for the command cut us down. They cast a shadow that blocked out what little light remained.
The writhing limbs descended just as the last rays of daylight were disappearing behind the horizon. I grabbed my scythe, cutting a wide crescent as I swung my blade upwards.
Thick spikes grew from the hull of the boat, extending outward and skewering the tentacles as they fell around me. A high-pitched scream, just barely within the range of human hearing, rang out as the tentacle that had been wrapped around the boat withdrew beneath waves.
I released the spikes and created a thin dome of wispy energy. The remaining tentacles fell and began to pound at the dome in a steady staccato, denting the wispy barrier like hammers upon thin sheet metal.
“It’s not going to hold,” I yelled. “We need to attack those tentacles, drive this thing off.”
My words went mostly unheard and hardly needed to be spoken. The small crew had already begun firing under the dome to hit the tentacles around us.
I was out of the fight, every ounce of mental energy I had remaining went into maintaining the dome. Each blow felt like a physical strike that reverberated through my skull. Luckily, that same skull was rather crowded.
The Fisher could act separately from me, so I cut off our connection. I immediately lost the extra sensory input, but I could feel a vague feeling of acknowledgment as the creature dove further into the depths — seeking the main body of the creature.
“Catayla,” Worthy yelled as he took time to reload his rifle. “Got any more of those explosives? A shockwave might be able to injure this thing, or at least convince it that we aren’t easy prey.”
“A few,” she yelled. “But they’ll be useless unless we can get them close to the main body. These tentacles are boneless and flexible and abomination flesh is notoriously tough, they’d barely feel it. Even if we did take them out, there is a good chance they can regrow, or that more are waiting in reserve.”
“We should at least try,” Worthy barked back. “These things are going to kill us.”
“It won’t work,” she said. “The blast would be much more likely to kill us than this beast.”
An idea hit me, and I sent a vague image to the Fisher. I felt its amusement as it spun around and began swimming back towards the surface.
“Wait,” I stammered. “Will that work? If we can get the explosive close to the main body can we kill this thing?”
My words were formed slowly between gasps as I tried to steady my breathing. The dome was being damaged faster than I could repair it, and the strain was taking a toll on me physically.
“Theoretically,” said Catayla. “Injuring it might cause it to retreat, even if we can’t kill it.”
“Good,” I said. “Throw everything you have into the water directly in front of you. Give us a couple minutes on the timer, if you can.”
Catayla either trusted me or guessed at my plan because she didn’t hesitate. She immediately threw three marble-sized beads into the water. The splashes were followed by a large bubble that rose to the surface as the beads disappeared beneath the waves. I caught a quick glimpse of an eye-filled blob diving beneath the waves.
Strikes continually struck at the barrier, and new tentacles had begun to target the gap I had left at the bottom of the dome, trying to pry it open. I reached the end of my endurance, my fists shaking as I lost control of the dome. It shattered as a final blow tore through the fading membrane.
Twisted shrapnel spun out in every direction. A screech cut through the air as small streams of blood ran from one of my ears, tinnitus filling my mind with painful ringing. Severed tentacles fell, still squirming as they slowly sank beneath the river.
For a few glorious moments, I was able to catch my breath. No more tentacles emerged, all of them either withdrawn or severed.
“I’m going to turn this whole boat into a capsule,” I yelled. “We’ll be totally cut off and defenseless, and those tentacles are going to smash through it in a matter of seconds. We’ll have to hope those explosives do their job.”
I looked up at Catayla and then back down towards Tiller.
“Anyone else have a better plan?”
“How long can you hold out for?” asked Tiller.
“Maybe a minute,” I said. “Probably less.”
“And Catayla,” Tiller said. “How much time is left on those bombs?”
“Fifty-six… fifty-five seconds and counting. Do it now, Finn!” she yelled.
We were immediately surrounded by a darkness that was all-encompassing. I had closed the top of the boat, leaving us entombed and unable to react to the danger beyond the thin walls I had created. Without the added strain of forming weapons or holding together the dome, reforming boat had seemed effortless.
The effort grew as thick limbs began to pound, falling in a steady rhythm. I grunted as I fell to my knees, beads of sweat running into my eyes.
The constant barrage of strikes vibrated the craft with deafening, thunder-like cracks. It was like being swung inside a bell, my bones shook, and I felt a sharp, piercing pain as my other eardrum burst. The attack persisted for several seconds, before seeming to relent.
The reprieve lasted no more than a second, and soon I could feel us being lifted out of the water. Stress fractures began forming, as something heavy and powerful began to squeeze my quickly fading construct.
I copied my previous trick, creating long, needle-thin spikes around the hull. The tentacles pulled away, but they didn’t drop us immediately. My stomach dropped as I felt myself moving upwards.
A rising feeling of vertigo and nausea filled me as we hung weightless for a moment of fleeting stillness, before plunging downward. As we struck the water, the shell I had created around the boat nearly split in two, but I roared in defiance as I struggled to hold the energy together. The stars had become visible through a latticework of widening cracks. Water was beginning to rise over my feet.
I released the form of the boat, concentrating on the much simpler form of a flat plane — like a small raft woven of dark and corrupting energy. The empty sky hung above me and dark waters swam beneath, nothing but air and shadow between myself and death. I finally freed the silver chain, and it spun around my fragile raft, striking out like a whip at a descending tentacle.
“I’m spent,” I moaned. “Hold them off as long as you can.”
“How much longer?” asked Bridgette. “Can we hold off long enough for the bombs to work?”
“Thirty more seconds,” Catayla said.
She seemed calm, almost emotionless. I normally would have envied her, but I was too exhausted to feel anything. My fear had long since evaporated into a quiet acceptance.
“Might as well be a lifetime,” said Worthy. “I don’t think we can last another second.”
“Just fire at anything that moves,” Bridgette yelled. “We have to make it through this. I’m not going out as fish food.”
I lay panting while they fought. They battled for what seemed like hours but was actually seconds. They shot and hacked, driving back anything that reached our raft. It seemed a valiant last stand, but I knew how those usually ended.
The silver chain spun around us like razor wire, but it was quickly entangled as it wrapped around a group of three tentacles. There seemed to be an unending number, each limb quickly being replaced faster than they could be cut down.
“Ten more seconds,” Catayla yelled out.
The three tentacles entangled with the silver chain tore open like a hand extending its fingers upwards. Silver links rained down on the water, even as I lost the strength to hold my staff. The curved scythe blade faded, as the weapon slipped into the water.
“Five seconds!” Catayla warned.
I counted down, feeling as if I was ticking off the final moments of my life. As I reached zero, a shadow fell over me. I could feel the air move as something large descended, seeming to grow heavier and faster the closer it came.
“Now,” yelled Catayla. “Abandon ship!”
I was once more tossed into the air. I lost consciousness after I felt something wrap around my ankle. I saw bubbles fall towards the light as I was pulled into the darkness. I felt cold and my chest burned and then … nothing.