Yellow Teeth nodded. "No, they didn’t." His eyes surveyed the gate, the sturdy monolith like construction. Slowly, his blue eyes travelled across the fence down to the withered, beaten boards and along the nearest amusement stands. Chip's Chips. Hilarious, he thought. And they wonder why it went out of business. He breathed out gently, thinking.
"When I get hold of that broad…my lord, the things I'm going to do to her." Baldie rubbed his injured crotch again. "Well, if my dick is still fuckin' working." He kicked the gate again, the noise louder this time. A low creak averted his gaze.
Yellow Teeth and Tongue Stud spun on the spot, trying to locate the sudden noise. The door from Chip's Chips narrowly opened, revealing a dark interior and a possible escape. Yellow Teeth grinned. "Gentlemen…after you."
They didn’t need telling twice. Tongue Stud went first, ripping the door back, the rusted hinges yelping in unused protest. The locking mechanism clanked to the boardwalk, the wood that formerly secured it puffing into termite-ridden splinters. The door didn’t return, simply staying open until all three men had entered the booth.
Baldie ambled into the corner, bumping into a set of double fryers. Tongue Stud was in front, opening cupboards and looking beneath the counters. Trays and containers clattered as he shoved them aside, searching for the impossible inside the small alcoves. Yellow Teeth shook his head. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Looking. You never know where they'll be hiding."
"I reckon they'd have a mare trying to fit in those fuckin' holes. Get out, you fuckin' retard." He kicked his companion, moving past him. "Look, there's a door here." He yanked it open, the chilled air greeting him silently. He sniffed, shook his head and looked down. Within seconds, his companions joined him,
The dark stairwell, descending into pitch black, welcomed them.
None of them spoke.
For a full minute, silence filled the musty, dirty booth. Seagulls flew by, their calls filling the salt-tainted, silent air. Six eyes canvased the steps, each one individually then as a set, the walls surrounding it, the chill of the sinister unknown fragrant on the air.
Yellow Teeth nodded.
Seeing this, Baldie shook his head. "Fuck that."
"I ain't going in there," countered Tongue Stud.
"We are," Yellow Teeth said with confidence, one-hundred percent certainty.
"Why?"
Their leader sniffed the air. "Because that succulent piece of pussy is down there. I can smell her. We go down there and they don’t come back out. No one will find the bodies; look at how dark it is."
Tongue Stud and Baldie glanced at one another, the former grimacing, the latter rubbing his swollen testicles, both nodding, defeated. "Let's go," they said in unison.
Yellow Teeth sneered. "When I get hold of that cunt, I'm going to fuck her, then wring her neck, not necessarily in that order."
* * *
They must have found the entrance.
Protocol 8 always predicted they would. Humans are by nature an inquisitive—scratch that—a nosy, prying bunch. A species that exists on the unknown, rumor, and other people's business.
They’ve found the opening.
Better late than never.
Only took them two years, two years longer than expected. They did say the human race is dumber now, more so than the previous twenty years. The data pack confirmed this.
I've been down here for ten years now. It's about time.
Good job I'm prepared, good job I'm ready.
I've trained for ten years for…this.
Time to go to work.
* * *
"Wow, it's beautiful."
Felicity was staring straight up, her eyes mesmerized by the unbelievable sight before her. Simon followed suit, his mouth open, agape in wonderment. His wife turned to him. "I can't believe this is here, have you ever seen something like this?"
Simon didn’t respond, but he hadn't, not in his wildest dreams.
Seconds earlier, they'd emerged in a tube, a room rounded at the sides. The corrugated steel floor was level, but the walls were circular in design, like a miniature tunnel. As always, the yellow line dictated their course. After a few more steps, a dull thud halted their walk. The appearance of glaring, powerful lights, which filled the room with immense whiteness, sent them scurrying for cover. Initially blinded, Felicity and Simon shielded their eyes with their arms, crouching down, exclaiming in fright. After a second, the lights began to dim and the couple was able to remove their arms from their faces.
What they saw was astounding.
They stood in a vast glass tube, the panes curling above them like the roof of a transparent tunnel, ribbed and strengthened with metal railings. Their feet were rooted to the spot on corrugated steel, but the rest of the tube was a glorified window. Gallons of seawater surrounded them, for as far as the eye could see. Shoals of fish swam by in patient silence, not a care in the world. Other marine life went about their business as normal, ignoring the new visitors to their home. The blue was calming, infinite and stunningly beautiful.
In the murkier depths of the water, a slope of land arched downwards and disappeared, the contours and definition speckled with black, spiked sea urchins. A tall tower, constructed from an unknown metal and embedded in a rough rock, stood high and wide, spraying bright light down onto them. Several crabs skittered over the frame, making a home for themselves.
After a moment, Felicity looked at her husband. "This is beautiful."
Simon nodded, amazed and perplexed at the same time. "I…I never knew this sort of thing existed."
"Well, government protocols exist for a reason," she mocked. "Are we on the seabed?"
Simon bit his lip. "I don't think so. Over there, next to the urchins? It goes deeper; see where the water becomes blackish in colour? We're probably just above a rocky outcropping or something. We're deep, but not that deep."
"So who built the lights? And the tunnel?"
"Governments have money and secrets. A lot, apparently. You know this…well, if you didn’t, you do now."
"Amazing." Felicity walked to the window and placed her outstretched hand on the glass. A lobster floated by, going about its normal business. Felicity's eyes were wide, amused, amazed.
"We gotta go, hon."
"Alright…" Felicity turned around and ambled over to her husband. "Wish I'd bought my camera. Wait a minute…" She pulled her phone from her pocket and swiped the screen. "Just quickly…"
"No, Felicity. No!"
"Why? What are the chances of us seeing something so beautiful again?"
"If this is a government facility, you could be breaking all kinds of laws. Photos are a no-no. They kept this place hidden for a reason."
"So, they won't know." She positioned herself for a photo.
"And what if we run into one of them? We're headed to their HQ, remember?"
Felicity nodded, realizing her husband was right. "Fine."
"Thank you. Now, let's go, before they catch us."
The couple moved on, Felicity's eyes remained on the deep sea above them until they entered another doorway.
A strange figure watched them go.
* * *
I knew this day would come.
It was inevitable, predictable, just like a simple riddle or the one-hundred pound question on those easy quiz shows. Everyone knows the answer. Humans are a simple race, always pandering for attention in the wake of ignorance and stupidity. They think they are superior. After all, Earth belongs to them.
Wrong. Humans aren't superior.
I am.
There's two of them here now. One is pretty, like that blonde woman in the white dress who walks over the steam grate. Or the woman with an exposed buttock on that tennis poster. The other is like me, only less developed and intelligent. This will be his downfall.
I knew that, one day, this moment would come.
But why did it have to?
Why did they have to come into my silence, int
o my abode?
Why did they have to intrude?
That's easy—they’re after the oil.
* * *
"What is this place?"
Tongue Stud stepped into the dark hallway and gasped, sweat dripping from every pore. Baldie followed him, his hands on his hips, lungs pumping for oxygen. Only Yellow Teeth seemed unaffected by the downwards ordeal. His sinister eyes scoped the hallway, looking for clues to their targets whereabouts.
"Boss?"
"What?"
"What is this place?"
Yellow Teeth didn’t answer. His eyes scanned and perused every corner, every shadow. He saw several doorways, all silent, all similar. His gaze fell to the floor and found the colored lines. A smile etched his lips, tugged on his cheekbones. Following the striped line, he ambled over to one of the open doorways and stepped through it.
On the other side stood a large metal door, similar of a bank vault. In its center stood a huge wheel. Yellow Teeth reached out and clutched it, tugged it with one hand. It didn’t budge. Looking down, he saw the striped line disappear beneath it.
He smiled and returned to his companions.
"Right, good news. We're not alone down here, they are here somewhere. Look at the floor, see those lines?"
Both men nodded, Baldie slower than Tongue Stud.
"They lead somewhere in this…whatever it is. There are four lines and the fourth one, the striped one, ends at a door just over there. They didn’t go that way. Which leaves yellow, red and blue."
Baldie nodded. Tongue Stud clicked his tongue against his teeth. Neither seemed to know what Yellow Teeth was suggesting. He sighed. "Pick a colour, morons."
Baldie nodded. "Red."
"Blue," chirped Tongue Stud.
"Which leaves me yellow. Right, we split up and we find them. This place can't be that big so, when we find them, we call out, okay?"
"Can't we use our phones?"
Yellow Teeth slapped him on the head. "We're probably miles under the ground, you daft cunt. There won't be any signal. No, we call out and make a big fuckin' ruckus. The echoes down here will probably scare them shitless. It'll work in our favor. Got it?"
Both men nodded.
"Right…"
"…I don’t wanna, boss," Baldie squeaked.
Yellow Teeth sighed, the air hissing between his teeth. "Why not?"
"We don’t know what's down here, do we? Anything could be lurking in these…through those doors."
"Like what? A yeti? Dracula? The fucking boogeyman?"
"Maybe."
"You really were dropped on your head as a fuckin' sprog, weren’t you? No, scratch that, your mother played football with you and punted you around your dingy, one bedroom trailer. How fuckin' stupid can you be?"
"I see the movies."
"You see shit, you dumb cunt. Now, follow your line and shout if you see anything. Go!"
Both men trudged off, without another word, their footsteps fading as they walked through their respective doorways. Yellow Teeth sneered, licking his gums, the thin coating of plague tickling his dry tongue.
"Not long now," he laughed. "Not long now."
* * *
Not long now.
The one with the bad dental hygiene is right.
Not long to go now.
I've observed and watched from the shadows. I know every inch of Atlantis, every nook and every cranny. It is my home. Mine to defend, mine to uphold.
I know every alcove and every hiding place.
Only moments ago, when that pretty one walked into the tube, I could have reached out and clutched her leg.
Or stroked it.
Or grazed her supple flesh with a stubby fingertip.
Her skin looks like bronze. It smells of cherries.
I love cherries. I wonder if she tastes the same.
But, it seems they are following her. Maybe they want her cherry skin for themselves. What do we call them? A whore? A hussy? The female who tempts the male? Harlot, that's it.
Temptation is a sin. No, it’s a sin to mishandle temptation, get it right.
I can’t allow that to happen.
Shouldn’t be difficult. They don’t seem too intelligent; they sought guidance from their superior.
Superior.
What is it with humans and that word?
It infuriates me. I'm superior, not them.
And they are about to find out why.
* * *
"C'mon, Bryan, you can do this."
Baldie gulped, the sound of his own name sending a shiver down his spine. He began to open his mouth again and stopped, a grin exposing his teeth. He pushed open a wooden door wracked with rot and damp. It squeaked on its hinges, the edges of the door curled from age.
First sign of madness.
What? Talking to yourself?
Yeah.
Not if it's in your head.
It’s the same thing.
No, it ain't.
Baldie emerged in a square room, one void of any furniture or decor. The cold, grey floor was spotless, shining in the light from the vast glass partition that covered the furthest wall. The remaining walls matched the floor, their colour exact, purposefully designed that way.
As he stepped nearer, he realized the glass partition was a window. Beyond, he could see the ocean. A bright blue glare filled the room as he edged nearer, his breath halted unintentionally, amazement coursing through his surprised brain.
"Wow…"
Baldie placed a hand to the glass. His eyes flicked back and forth, up and down, sideways in a slow, observing motion as he took in the amazing view. Small shoals of fish, miles or meters away, he wasn't sure which, swam by, going about their normal marine life without a care in the world.
Could fish even care?
I heard they had a six-second memory span.
Like Dory in that movie…
That's goldfish.
Is not.
Who cares? You gotta find the woman and her husband.
Baldie rubbed his sore crotch, the painful memory still strong. He closed his eyes and saw the beautiful woman leaping towards him, her foot striking him in the balls, her sole crushing his semi-erect penis and his testicles together. A lightning bolt of pain crippled him, sent him sprawling to the sand as his lunch decided to evacuate his stomach. He remembered his breath catching, his misery rolling down his cheeks, the vomit choking him until he opened his mouth and purged. He remembered Dave helping him up and Duncan just staring, watching their prey go.
Duncan. The guy could do with a visit to the dentist.
You know what? Fuck him. He didn’t care that I nearly had my dick stamped into a pulp. Let him find them on his own. Fuck him.
I was fine until she kicked me. Stored her image in the wankbank for a later date.
But no, he had to push it.
Had to pull a fucking knife.
Baldie spat a thick, phlegmy wad of sputum on the glass and flipped the ocean the bird, chopping his elbow to useless effect. "Fuck you, Duncan."
He watched the green slime roll down the glass, leaving a white smear in its wake. He lowered his offensive gesture, uncurled his fist and turned around, aiming to head back to the entrance. "I'm out of here."
It wouldn’t take long, although he didn’t cherish the climb back to the boardwalk.
"Hello."
Baldie stopped in his tracks, his eyes rising from the floor. Narrowing them, he wasn’t sure what he was looking at, some kind of shadow in the darkness, standing before the exit. A hulking figure, an absolute monster. The door disappeared behind it.
Yet, that voice…
"Hello," it repeated.
"Hi," Baldie responded, taking a solitary step back. "Can I help you?"
"I very much hope so, Bryan."
Baldie's breath caught, and he was about to respond when logic trickled across his brain. He felt his heart thump a little harder, a little faster. He felt his bowels loosen a tad.
How
does he know my name?
You said it aloud, not five minutes ago.
Oh, yes.
Nice try, meathead.
The shadow stepped forward and seemed to grow three feet in height. "I see your brain working feverishly behind those lost eyes. Behind those inexperienced orbs, I see an abandoned, hopeless future. I see the signals, all over you. The clothes, the hairstyle, or lack thereof, and the boots. The haphazard stains of a youth in revolt. You couldn’t be more cliché if you tried."
Baldie licked his lips and fingered the sheath on his belt. "Who are you?"
"No, the question is…who are you?"
"I don't have time for this, fucker."
"Oh yes, I forgot. You're angry at…Duncan is it? Who's he? Your friend? Your abusive father? Your lover?"
"You better shut your mouth, cunt."
"I would. But, you see, Atlantis is my home. And you're trespassing."
The figure walked forward, his frame emerging in the blue hue cast by the silent ocean beyond the glass. His feet appeared, then his legs and his body, before his head finally emerged in the light.
Baldie felt his legs buckle in absolute terror. He pissed his pants, the hot urine spraying down his trembling legs. His bowels completely loosened and filled his underwear, the weight and foul stench staggering him backwards. His boots slipped from beneath him and he landed on his rump with a dull squelch, the excrement forced outwards by his sudden weight falling on it. He felt his heart hammer on his ribcage, attempting to escape.
He felt his eyes burn and tear at the horrific sight before him.
He didn’t feel the blade at first, only saw the swift motion below his eye line as the blade entered his chin, pierced through his sweaty, supple flesh and scraped against the back of his teeth with an agonizing screech. As the sharp tip probed his brain and rendered his body deceased, his eyes closed, the life ebbing from him slowly.
His eyes saw the blue, the silent peacefulness of the ocean beyond.
The man stepped into his view. He could see the thing smiling, its tongue licking the inside of its mouth, an action visible through the multiple ragged holes in its mutilated cheeks. The tongue poked through one of the holes, slipping aside the stringy flesh, drooling saliva down the mottled surface of his pale, gaunt flesh.
As his eyes closed, he heard one word.
Fearful Fathoms: Collected Tales of Aquatic Terror (Vol. I - Seas & Oceans) Page 19