Author Note: Apologies for being away so long! I got some hardcore writer's block on "Everything Burns" and had to table it for a while. Please enjoy this little one-shot of young Tamatoa, though! This can be read as a standalone story, but it's actually a tie-in to a story I co-wrote with another author ( raptormoon ). She's not on FFN, but you can read the longfic that this ties into on the other archive ( A - O - 3 ) under the title "Rīpekanga" over there. The story is complete, but we are posting chapters on a schedule: each week on Tamatoa Tuesday. Four more to go till the end!
At any rate, thank you for your patience with me. And please enjoy this little short! 3
It was cool on the forest floor, draped in heavy shadows from the trees overhead which kept the tropical sun's at bay. Lower still, concealed the dappled patches of shade and speckled sunlight, a small creature took refuge from the afternoon heat. The creature was well hidden within the leafy ferns which carpeted the forest floor. Only a faint rustling of dried leaf litter indicated the creature's presence at a distance. Upon closer inspection, however, an astute observer might notice a delicate pair of long, thin antennae rising from the underbrush, their dusty pink and purple stripes at odds with the background of verdant foliage. Ever alert, the antennae twitched and swiveled, capturing scents from the humid air.
Finally, the antennae stilled. The coast was clear.
A moment later, a small pincer parted the fern fronds. A second pincer pushed more fronds aside, opening a gap through which a young crab tentatively stepped. He was small, but only in relation to how large he would someday become. Compared to the mortal crabs he resembled, he was already a giant. At over a foot tall and weighing more than twenty pounds, he far outweighed any normal crab that inhabited the islands. At a glance, he resembled a kaveu, the enormous coconut crabs which patrolled islands across the South Seas. Only upon closer scrutiny did the differences become readily apparent. His build was slightly different, broader across the back, and his abdomen, curled under his body, was smaller and less round. His claws could swivel through a wider range of motion, pivoting to allow for a high degree of precise manipulation.
Most notable and distinct, however, was his face. Unlike normal crabs, his head, neck, and face had no hard exoskeleton to protect it. Instead, this crab had a face of soft flesh and finely textured skin. A wide, expressive mouth stretched over white teeth. Atop a pair of flexible eyestalks, his eyes were bright and intelligent, sharp with a cunning beyond that of a simple animal. Those wily blue eyes were mismatched, however, with one pupil permanently dilated-a distinctive feature that made him easy to identify.
This was Tamatoa, a young monster crab who would someday grow to be a fearsome terror on this remote island of Rīpekanga.
But today, however, he was small and hungry and more than a little rattled.
A creature of night, his daytime rest had been interrupted quite rudely when his sleeping place, a burrow dug into the soft earth beneath a half-rotted log, had been invaded. He had been having a wonderfully pleasant dream, in which he had caught a sleeping hawk by the talons. The surprised dream hawk had fought back, striking with its razor-sharp beak, but Tamatoa had broken its wings and subdued it easily. He had been just about to enjoy his hard won meal when this pleasant fantasy was shattered by a raspy growling screech that was all too real.
When his eyes flew open, Tamatoa was greeted by the sight of a gigantic sharp-tusked snout forcing its way into his home. A boar! The massive hog's hot, stinking breath washed over Tamatoa in heavy gusts as the snorting, sniffling creature tried to root him out. Huge teeth snapped, the sharp rapport echoing in the small space. Tamatoa reeled back, barely escaping those crushing jaws in a hasty dodge. He was swiftly pressed up against the rear wall of his burrow, however, and could retreat no further.
With flight impossible, his only choice was to fight.
Letting out a fierce growl of his own, Tamatoa's bioluminescence blazed to life, an involuntary reaction he had little control over as of yet. Just as the boar had shoved deeper into the burrow, the little crab lunged forward with claws open. They closed around the soft septum between the boar's immense, snotty nostrils. As soon he felt the warm flesh between his claws, he clamped them down with all his strength.
The pig screeched. The sound, high and shrill, was deafening and Tamatoa's antennae jerked in distress. Now it was the boar who reeled back, hauling Tamatoa with him and dragging him out of the burrow. As soon as he was clear of the burrow's entrance, Tamatoa let go of the monster's nose. He fell with a soft thump onto the damp earth, hitting the ground running and streaking off into the underbrush before the pig could notice.
Behind him, he heard the enraged squeals and grunts of the hog, followed by the crunching of rotten wood and the collapsing of dirt. The wounded pig was destroying Tamatoa's home in his fury, throwing clods of earth in all directions and shredding the soft fibers of the old log. Tamatoa didn't stick around to watch, instead he fled. He ran on until he was far away and could no longer hear or smell the angry swine, taking shelter in a dense thicket of ferns. There, he had hidden in the shadows until the sun was well overhead-catching his breath and nervously checking for any sign of his adversary.
It was from these ferns where he emerged now.
With his rest interrupted and his home wrecked, he was off to a bad start this morning. And on top of that, now he was hungry, too.
Well, he thought to himself, it was never too early for breakfast.
With that in mind, he set off into the forest to find something suitable to eat. And perhaps even locate a new place to dig a burrow, too.
Without the nighttime darkness to conceal him, he stuck to the shadows as much as possible. Daytime was a dangerous time for a young crab to be moving about the island. There could be more pigs on the loose, or worse. So, Tamatoa kept to the shelter of the leafy undergrowth as he searched.
He had only been ashore a handful of years-long enough to outgrow his need for a protective snail shell-but in that time he had already begun to develop a strong skill at scent-tracking. Of course, there was still much to learn. The world was full of new scents to catalogue and new techniques to explore, but nevertheless he was well on his way towards someday becoming an expert in the matter. As he walked, he kept his antennae aloft and canted into the wind, swiveling them at intervals to catch more scents out of the air. With any luck, he'd find something both easy to acquire and tasty.
And for Tamatoa, nearly anything smaller than himself was a potential meal. He had his preferences, of course. While any of the myriad of tropical fruits and root vegetables on the lush island were acceptable, he was had a natural affinity for coconuts. His claws, still small but very strong for their size, could easily crack the mature nuts open to get at the tasty white flesh within. He liked the sweet, refreshing water inside, too. Even the young, green coconuts were a worthwhile endeavor, though those rarely fell to the ground of their own accord and he had to climb the tall palm trees to collect them.
But even more than coconuts, Tamatoa preferred meat. A growing crab needed a high intake of protein, after all. Given the opportunity, he would rather have meat than anything else available on the island. His options were not quite as diverse as the plantlife, however. He had grown quite adept at hunting rats and raiding seabird nests, though both were undertakings that could only be performed under the cloak of night. He had even managed to steal a piglet from a sleeping sow without being noticed one fine night, killing his prey before it could even squeal and then quickly retreating into the darkness with his prize. That had been a great victory for the little crab! It had been his favorite food yet and it had firmly cemented one of his dietary preferences: Tamatoa preferred warm-blooded prey.
The little lizards and frogs of the forest or the slimy fish that washed up on shore were certainly more appealing than some moldy old uru fruit or a dirt-covered taro root, but mammals and birds were far better. They were also far more difficult to hunt, which was at times either a joyous challenge or a frustrating barrier. But it was worth it for the warm splash of blood, the tender flesh, and the delicate crunch of bone.
He was hungry just thinking about it.
Tamatoa knew there would be little chance of catching such alert creatures by day, however. He needed the cover of darkness to stalk and ambush that kind of clever, tricky meat. That left either chasing after geckos or finding something to scavenge.
He cut his eyes towards the forest floor, where spry little lizards scattered at his approach. They were fast, agile, and tiny. Catching enough of them to make a good breakfast would be a lot of work.
Scavenging would have to do for now.
A twitch of his antennae in the breeze brought a promising new scent to him and he changed his course to follow it. Carried by the wind, it was an odd mix of overripe fruit and somewhat aged meat. He had never smelled anything quite like it before, but he was an inquisitive crab and his curiosity drove him to find out more about this enticing new smell. The scent lured him deeper into the forest, where the trees were denser and the leafy ferns, along with the protection they offered, were reduced. Nevertheless, he was bold as he tracked this interesting new scent down.
Before long, he found it. Tamatoa tilted his head, perplexed. The source of the smell was a small bundle, hooked about a foot off the ground on the trunk of a sturdy vine-wrapped tree. Antennae reaching forward, he stepped closer to inspect this strange and novel thing. It was indeed meat and fruit, a mix of noni and mashed fe'i banana with what smelled like bird viscera, all wrapped together with a narrow strip of pandanus leaf. How odd; it looked like it was crafted by human hands.
Perhaps it was some kind of offering. Tamatoa knew that humans frequented this forest, though they frightened him and he did his best to avoid them at all costs. Nevertheless, they were always leaving things scattered around the island. He had often stumbled across shiny knick knacks and other human paraphernalia discarded in the forest. Were they gifts to the gods the humans worshipped? Or some sort of petition to their gods for aid and favor?
Well, Tamatoa had no use for those gods. The gods cared nothing for monsters. Monsters had to fend for themselves.
He reached brazenly for the fragrant bundle.
The instant his claws clasped it, Tamatoa knew he had made a mistake.
Of course, he did not immediately realize just how dire of a mistake it was until he felt the sennit rope close around his claws. Unhooking the parcel of food-bait, he now realized-had triggered some sort of tension mechanism. The noose cinched tight around his pincers instantly; and in the same moment he was yanked violently into the air with shocking force. As he was jerked skyward, he caught a fleeting glimpse out of the corner of his eye of a young sapling thrashing with a angry rustle of leaves nearby. There was no time to process what that meant, however, as he was now swinging wildly through the air, legs flailing and claws trapped.
Before he could even react, the pendulum arc of his motion swung him back the other direction. Pain shot through him as he crashed into the unyielding trunk of the large hardwood tree. The heavy impact left him stunned and reeling, his vision swimming drunkenly as he hung limp and unresisting from the long rope snare.
Dazed and delirious, Tamatoa's eyes fell closed for what seemed like only a moment, but when he opened them again the sunlight was slanting towards evening, casting long shadows across the forest floor. He was still suspended in the air, dangling by the snare, and his arms ached from the strain of supporting his weight.
And there were voices approaching.
"Ariki, look at the size of that kaveu!"
Humans. Tamatoa's eyes went wide with fear. He was trapped and there were humans coming! Humans were terrifying monsters, capable of almost godlike things. They could make terrible weapons and use them to great effect. He had encountered them a few times before and had fled for his life from their nets and spears and thrown stones. They frightened him more than the big monsters on the island, most of which never really bothered with a little crab like him and had no special powers to make weapons that flew through the air.
"Aue! It's huge! Never seen one that big before. Have you, Kahu?"
The humans were getting closer.
Dangling by his claws, Tamatoa struggled against the rope holding him. It was cinched tight around the narrow part of his arms, too tight to push it over the larger swell of his claws. Frantic, he kicked his legs in the air and snapped his claws uselessly.
"Never. It's big enough for a feast!"
The weight of those words settled on Tamatoa and his fear morphed into anger. He was not going to be a feast for these humans! No way!
His eyes narrowed and he ceased his thrashing. He hung with chilly stillness as sharp calculation replaced terror. His attention turned towards where the humans now approached.
There were two of them, both tall and lanky and covered in intricate markings but otherwise indistinguishable as most humans were. Between them, they carried a long wooden pole. Hanging from the pole, tethered upside down, was a dead hog—the remnants of a rope snare still around its neck. And it was not just any hog, either. No, it was the same hog which had invaded Tamatoa's burrow earlier in the day.
Even amid the fear and anger, Tamatoa spared a brief, smug thought that at least that swine would never terrorize him again.
The two humans set their kill down on the edge of the clearing. "Kahu, the basket," the first one prompted.
The other shifted, pulling forward a large woven basket that had been slung over its shoulder. Tamatoa's antennae twitched. The basket smelled of dead things—birds, fish, and other small game. He was pretty sure there were a few mortal crabs in there, too. Those, however, he could hear faintly struggling against what might have been bindings.
Tamatoa worked hard to keep calm and steady his nerves. The first human pulled a long, wicked looking stone knife from its waistband and walked towards where Tamatoa was suspended in the trap.
Tamatoa's eyes never left the knife, his fear growing even as he tried to suppress it. He knew that human weapons possessed the ability to inflict grievous harm. His antennae quivered, but he kept his other limbs steady as he waited for the human to approach. He couldn't get out of this rope on his own, he needed them to release him first.
Then there was a hand grabbing at him. The human's fleshy appendage took hold of him by the back of the shell. Tamatoa shuddered, hating the feeling of this strange creature's touch. It was foreign and unpleasant and unwelcome. But the hand did not let go. Instead, it lifted his weight until the rope he hung from lost some of its tension.
Tamatoa's legs fidgeted and his claws flexed silently, wiggling against the ropes constraining him and biding his time. There was a tiny bit of give in the rope now. He just needed to get his claws free. He just needed to wait another moment more.
Then the human reached up with the knife and placed it against the sennit rope a foot or so beyond Tamatoa. One swift slice severed the line.
The noose of rope around his claws fell slack.
With a snarl of fury and a short jerk, Tamatoa yanked his claws free. Quick as a flash, he struck at the arm holding the knife. He found his mark and one pincer closed around the soft flesh of the human's forearm. Tamatoa squeezed.
The human let out a howl. In that brief moment, shock and surprise loosened his captor's grip and the stone knife fell to the ground. The other hand let go of his shell as the human flailed in pain. Tamatoa hung on, swinging wildly in the air as the human tried to dislodge him.
"Ariki!" the other human shouted, leaping forward to aid its companion. This human fumbled at Tamatoa's body, trying to get a grip on him to pull him away. Tamatoa kicked at the grabby hands, jabbing at them with his sharply pointed legs.
By now, the first human had recovered some of its wits. With its free hand, it grabbed at the claw clamped on its arm, trying to force him to let go.
At the same time, the other human managed to get a grip on his shell and began to yank at him. One claw was still clinging to the first human and each tug put severe pressure on the joints of his arm. It hurt and Tamatoa yelped.
Fear shot through him like cold water. He was a strong crab, but these humans might tear him apart this way.
The need to escape now more urgent, Tamatoa made a quick decision and swung his other claw up. With one precise lunge, he closed it on one of the long fingers wrapped around his other claw. His pincer snapped shut and there was a crunch of delicate bones. Encouraged, his claw bore down tighter, pinching harder and with crushing force.
This time, the human shrieked—a high-pitched scream that made even Tamatoa wince.
Everything happened very fast after that.
Perhaps driven by the unexpected scream of its companion, the second human gave a mighty yank upon Tamatoa's shell-jerking back with all its strength. As soon as he felt the pull behind him, Tamatoa released the fleshy part of the first human's arm. But he didn't let go of the finger.
The second human had pulled so hard that Tamatoa might well have been ripped apart, but with the sudden release of the first human's arm there was little resistance. The human behind him tumbled backwards with his excess of momentum. Tamatoa tumbled with him. There was a tangle of limbs and dust and cursing, but it was drowned out by the shrill screeching of the first human—a sound that peaked at a piercing volume, then rose and fell in one continuous wail.
Out of the chaos and confusion, Tamatoa felt the grip on him slip away. He bounced up to stand, free at last! Legs scrambling and heart pounding, he climbed over the fallen human and skittered out of the way of the other human who was screaming and flailing and clutching at its own hand as bright red blood ran down to drip from its elbow.
Once again, Tamatoa didn't wait around to see the results of his handiwork, instead he broke for the safety of the trees with every last drop of speed he could muster. He dove into the underbrush and kept running.
It wasn't until the sounds of screaming and cursing and wailing were long behind him that Tamatoa slowed down. He ducked into the safety of a thick stand of ferns and crouched in the deep shadows, legs trembling and antennae shaking. Here, he caught his breath and recovered his wits.
For the second time today he had narrowly avoided disaster at the whim of some larger creature. This had been a bad day.
Only once he had calmed enough to think straight did he glance down at what he held in his pincer.
There was bright red blood all down his claw, still thick and tacky in the humid air. And clutched in his claw was the source of all that blood: the human's longest finger.
Slender antennae arched forward, inspecting his prize. He had never smelled human blood before, but it was not dissimilar from other warm-blooded creatures. Sharply metallic, but with the scent of iron rather than copper like his own blood. Humans were apparently mammals, no different from pigs and rats.
Well, Tamatoa liked the way pigs and rats tasted. Curious, he gave the congealing blood on his claw an experimental lick.
A slow smile spread on Tamatoa's face.
Oh, he really liked that.
A few more eager sweeps of his tongue cleaned the rest of the blood away. Then he contemplated the torn finger, one end ragged with crushed flesh and white fragments of bone. There wasn't much to it, but he was hungry and had already been denied breakfast once. Besides, he was terribly curious.
He took a bite and his smile grew even wider.
Well, that was good, too! It was crunchy with bone and had little meat by ratio, but Tamatoa found it to his liking—even better than that piglet he'd caught! He grinned, pleased. Another enthusiastic bite finished off this delightful new snack. It wasn't enough for a truly filling meal, but it was novel and exciting and that was more than enough to make a satisfying breakfast of it. He wanted more, but knew there was no feasible way to get more. It had only been dumb luck that he had managed to get the small—but delicious!—tidbit he had.
As he rested in the cool shade, cleaning the last little bits off his claw, Tamatoa considered this new aspect of the humans he had feared so much. Perhaps the two-legged creatures weren't really as superior as they had seemed. Perhaps the powers they seemed to possess were just trickery, like the snare he had been caught in. Perhaps there was nothing more to them than that, nothing particularly special. They were just made out of meat, after all, like any other creature. They bled. Their flesh was edible.
Tamatoa thought long and hard about this as the sunlight faded into night. He thought about where to place them in the web of life and death, of predator and prey.
He was still small, just a drab little crab on a big island. The humans were larger than him and had thought to eat him, just as he ate animals smaller than himself. For now, that made them a dangerous threat which he would have to learn to avoid or outwit for his own survival.
Someday, though, he would be bigger than the humans. And when that day came?
Tamatoa smiled.