Velli

Mogvaz’s tail rises from the pool like a cobra in front of Dream, teeth bared and hisses ever rising. Everything slows down. It feels like the paintings of the great philosophers surrounding the pool are observing this moment. They’re frozen, unable to save her. I’m not. I swim forward and leap onto the tail. My hands squeeze it in the space between two rows of teeth. Summoning all my strength, I pull it down, and we enter the water with a splash.

It’s stronger than I am. It rises again and whisks me from the pool. The tail thrashes right and left. My legs fling in the air. I squeeze tighter.

Mogvaz and Dream are a blurry mess beneath me. Mogvaz’s big orange form tosses Dream around. At least, that’s what I see. It could be worse. He could be palming her face, his clawed thumb tapping her throat.

Squeeze, squeeze, he’s going to mush her brain.

I scrape and smash my heels against his teeth, struggling to gain traction. Teeth crack, and it’s a pleasant melody. The tail stops moving, and I get a clear view of the fight below.

Mogvaz grits his teeth in clear agony and gives me his undivided attention. Staring into my eyes, he swings Dream around and slams her into the pool’s concrete edge. Her body goes limp.

I’m going to kill him. I leap off the tail and fly face-first into Mogvaz. Something big hits me from the side. I twist my body, and I’m back in the warm, dirty water.

It was the tail, and it’s not done with me. It pushes me down again, submerging me in the pool. The thing grabs me, and I can’t hit it with any force this time. I’m sinking fast. Everything moves in slow motion.

The tail wraps around me like an anaconda. Each mouth sinks its teeth into me. I scream, a silent, pointless underwater scream. The mouths release at separate times then clamp down again. It’s a rapid, random succession, like they’re all monstrous children with big, strong teeth chewing with their mouths open and struggling to remove the skin to reach the raw meat beneath.

But where’s Dream? Is she safe? Did I distract Mogvaz long enough?

Mogvaz isn’t even looking at you sink. He’s too busy choking the life out of Dream.

It’s a slow and painful descent.

The water’s a dirty mess. My eyes burn, and the world around me is a distorted nightmare.

Oh, buddy, don’t worry. I’ll tell you what’s happening to Dream. It’s terrible, just terrible. He’s holding her just above his face by her swimsuit strap. His lizard tongue is tasting little bits of her, trying to decide what part to eat first. Oh no, this is worse. She’s regained consciousness. Dream’s awake, wiggling in midair, unable to stop her cannibalization.

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I’ve got no idea if that’s true. What would torture me more, the horrible truth or a horrible lie? Doesn’t matter.

I flex, wiggling my whole body, muscle by muscle. The grip neither tightens nor loosens, just ignores my effort. I think about the first time I knew I loved Dream. I think about my sick mother who needs me and the death of all my friends I swore I would avenge—anything to make me stronger, to activate some adrenaline X factor that could free me.

Nothing happens.

Above me, I imagine Mogvaz takes a final preparatory lick, dancing his tongue along Dream’s throat. I scream. Stupid bubbles come out in response.

The temperature in the room shifts, a chill entering the water. Oh, that’s nice. I smile because I’ve won.

I imagine the scene between Mogvaz and Isaz, the man causing the great chill.

Isaz bursts through the door, an albino man made of more hair than a yeti and, under that, skin made of ice. He’s probably cursing Mogvaz’s name. Mogvaz will try to explain, but ironically, Isaz is hotheaded. That’s kind of funny. Bubbles come up from my laughter. Maybe bubbles aren’t so bad.

The biting stops. I’m sure Mogvaz needs all his mental strength at the moment.

Isaz won’t listen to a word Mogvaz says in defense. Isaz is a clique leader. No clique leader is calm when he gets the news that his wife’s been cheating on him with another man.

Well, technically, it’s not news because I made it up. Just a couple of photoshopped texts I sent from Carreon Bane’s phone to Isaz. A perfectly timed setup, if I do say so myself. If Dream hadn’t rushed in, we might not have even needed to get in the water.

I imagine Mogvaz waving his hands in repentance. Oh, Mogvaz. He’s more worried than I am, and I’m the one stuck at the bottom of a pool. Aw, is the baby eater scared he’ll go to hell?

Something cold blasts through the room, so bright my eyes close reflexively.

When my eyes open, the monster’s grip on me weakens. Dumb animal. The reptilian cannibal’s body went straight into hibernation because of the temperature drop, as predicted. Mogvaz can’t move. The entire surface of the pool is covered in ice. That’s a small problem. I should be able to break through.

Mogvaz sits at death’s door before I reach the top. Frozen drool rests on the corners of his lips. Dream walks on the ice, looking for me. I meet her gaze, and her nose wrinkles in concern. She stomps on the ice. It cracks a bit under the strike. I swim up and punch the same spot. Nothing happens. My lungs burn. Dream stomps on the ice again. It doesn’t crack further. I slam my shoulder into the ice. My shoulder hurts, but the ice doesn’t crack.

Velli, want to see a trick?

I punch with my left then right into the ice and keep punching until it hurts.

It does nothing. Velli, come on. I have something to show you. Let me show you a trick.

Dream leaps up and down on the ice. The tiny cracks sound every time, but they’re invisible. They’re not big enough. Nothing we do can free me.

I’ve been working on this a long time, Velli, and I’d appreciate it if you saw this.

Dream drops to her knees and slams her fist. She yells something at me. The ice is too thick, and the water’s filled my ears, muting her screams.

Velli, I mean, common courtesy suggests—

What, Fate? What do you want?

Look down.

He’s there. He’s me in my nightmares. He’s bald, teeth decayed, and all my muscle gone. He’s all skin, bone, and a protruding ribcage. And the skin—a colorless gray and filled with boils. He’s shown himself as an image before, but this is different. There’s no way. Fate grabs my ankle, and that grip—it’s too strong. It shouldn’t be that strong.

I’m a real boy.