Her gills flared as she pulled herself onto the shoreline, her scales sloughing off in the froth of the surf. Like an oilstain, they surrounded her, sticking to strands of dull brown hair and mottled skin. Having escaped the pestilence that tore through her own fair city, she looked up to see the bright lights of a large circular contraption that spins in the night. Strange sounds and cries echoed out as she flops down onto the sand.
Thank Poseidon, I’ve made it, Ariel thought to herself.
Watching all her friends die, one by one – even that irritating little singing fucking lobster; it had all been too much. As her tail made the final transformation into legs, she stood, wobbling in place for a moment before collapsing back onto the sand.
“My god, are you ok?”
She turned to see a beautiful two legger leaning down to help her, intoxicated by the smell of him.
The razors of feeling cutting into the nerves of her newly formed feet were strangely distant and she was blissfully unconcerned regarding her inability to speak. Her ability to chew, however, remained as strong as ever. The years she’d spent using them to crack lobsters and clams for the delicious treats inside had built her jaw muscles to a level of power unmatched above the sea.
She held her hunger in check as her erstwhile rescuer stumbled across the sand. She kept it at bay as he hefted her in his arms, though mastication lubricants flowed into her mouth, making her eyes dilate.
He apparently took the smell of decay and rot that issued forth from her pores to be simply seaweed on her skin, though she did feel curiously cold against his skin.
Able to do little but groan gutturally, she leaned into him, wondering about the fascinating odor that fairly reeked off of him. An overwhelming need pulsed through her body and she wrapped strong arms around him, pulling him down and tearing into the tender skin of his neck with sharp teeth.
“OH HOLY BABY JESUS!” he screamed, trying desperately to push her away, but she held firm, biting down and pulling away a wet red chunk that she chewed with nauseating delight.
Only then did she realize that she carried the plague within her. The hot…wet plague. Oh god, the yearning. It BURNED. So, no escape then. She was the last of her kind; felled and taken by the burning hunger. Her race was no more. The disappointment faded quickly enough.
“Sssssssssseeeeeeeeeeexxxx…” she croaked, finally finding the words.
The man above her choked, spitting blood out on the sand as she pushed him over, reaching down between their bodies. Her fingers snaked into his board shorts to fondle his hot, erect kipper.
It jumped in her hand, capering in its own fishy way as she gripped it and pulled. She was shocked into silence when it came off in her hand, her fingers growing slick with blood. Howling in frustration, she tossed it away from them as the body convulsed beside her; the change in it beginning already.
Won’t he be PISSED when he wakes up? she thought to herself with a cruel smile.
Wobbling to her feet, she wiped bloody fingers off on the sand and stumbled towards the lights. Surely there was a man among them with a sturgeon strong enough to satisfy her.
This was only the beginning.