WARNING:
Some mild amounts of blood. And pain.
But a heck of a lot of cuteness as well!
Droplet
Thunderous beings of torment
Raging across the sky,
Unleashing torrents of souls
Water multiplied.
"Come, my little cupcake. Let's paddle in the waves," Anna Lair declared to her 5-year-old daughter, a nurturing smile on her face.
Little Irma laughed, and sploshed around in the sea. Others scrambled around in the cool blue. People at the beach lived a temporary escape from life. Adults allowed themselves a brief period to flourish in an area with a vibrant, jolly aura. Children flopped, jumped, swam and giggled, without a care for time's passing.
One little drop
Sparkles like a gem,
And hits the ground
With unbound enthusiasm.
Her gathered cousins, all older than her, spur her on. She giggles and lets her little legs with baby fat flap around with the mild, joyful currents.
She submerges and swishes her arms as if she were a diving seagull. She blows hard in a fit of pure ecstasy, bubbles whooshing about, little scraps of seaweed hurtling away from her pretend, predatory self.
She surfaces, spitting and snorting water. She spasms uncontrollable laughs, before the salt digs into her tongue's buds. Then she pulls a cute little grimace.
"Yucky!"
A big cousin swims over. "Oh Irma!" he laughs teasingly, gently cradling the repulsed droplet in his arms, "That wouldn't taste very good, I'd imagine!"
Tiny, innocent Irma just gives little flicks of her head in agreement.
A voice calls to the paddling younglings. "Come here, sweetie! Play starfish with Mummy!" Anna Lair summons her struggling little baby.
Another big cousin plucks Irma into their arms. "I'll take her, Tim."
"Thanks Rita!"
Irma, now smiling and happily kicking up water again, is passed into her mother's care.
"Thank you, Rita."
"No problem-o, Auntie!"
A few minutes pass. The sun is shining, birds are whistling, the ocean sings and sparkles with colours – people, boats, and even a humpback whale stops by in the distance to party.
"Mummy?"
The sound of her little daughter's squeaky voice breaks Anna's gaze from the horizon.
"Yes Irma?"
"I don't like salt."
"Yes, sweetheart, I think that's a family trait."
Deranged terrain
And unspeakable ground
Mutes and deadens
The fateful sound.
"SHARK! SHARK!"
"Everyone out!"
A flurry of primal actions, driven by the black cloud of terror.
Dark Death approaches and batters fleeing prey around.
Stampedes of fleshbags charge from the ocean to the shore.
A tiny hand slips away.
Changes are made forevermore.
A snap-flash of teeth. Cries, calls and screams. Merciless collisions and penetrating points. Red water spreading like killer wasps.
Smoke-like choking fear descends. Suffocation, and pain, is everywhere.
But a screeching shout, sharp as a pin, pierces the grey blanket of bedlam.
It's a mother's despairing, devastated cry.
It speaks of tragedy and the unstoppable agony that follows it.
Ironic, is it then
That one's strength can be one's undoing?
Follow your friends no matter the cost
And your life-long chance slims.
Tom Lair yelled, skirting through the thundering masses of fear-consumed people. Around him were people running away from the oceanic slaughterhouse, and a few others running back in to help.
It was a watered-down version of Omaha. This time people willingly fled from the oceans to the beaches. A single killer has struck. A single killer has wreaked bloody carnage among amicable souls.
Now the killer has had its fill, and it turns to leave.
Flashing lights. Orange, yellow, red and blue.
Hot colours – doom.
Cold colour – gloom.
A woman has just collapsed onto the sand. Only her failing arms keep her from dropping down completely. Her brain has turned to pulp. Her legs have crumbled like dust.
Her heart didn't even give her enough zest to scream at the heavens. She could only stare at the soaked sand, marred with humanity's blood, the salted grains on land and in water useless. Forlorn and hopeless.
You could
Let your body disintegrate
And the thunder and lightning override
Your personal freedom and convictions.
A police report comes in under 10 minutes. At least two children devoured. Several others wounded.
Come and see the devastating impact of a ramming tail. The unforgiving remark of a merciless bruise.
Feel the multiple punctures of natural knives in your ribs and slashes across your abdomen.
Drip, drip, drip goes blood from victimized bodies.
Drip, drip, drip goes precious liquids from the stump of one's arm.
It could be a friend or an acquaintance. Or even a fellow family member.
But to a mother it does not hold up a single candle at all.
She just wants her young child delivered back, safe and sound.
For what seems like hours, her mind wipes out all other suffering people.
Them and their own pain mean nothing to her.
Her daughter… her daughter… Oh God, her daughter…
Is gone.
Dead.
Devoured.
Cruel misery swamps the last few remnants of sanity's roots in her head.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I've failed you, my love. I've failed you and our child."
Her husband's strong arms caress her shattered shoulders, but it makes no difference.
She's gone.
Or you could
Take in a new, invigorating breath.
You could push yourself away,
Away from self-devouring calamity.
You could reach higher than the sky,
Past the stars.
You could breach infinity
And break mortal boundaries.
Know who you truly are.
"Mummy?"
A tiny voice from a little girl is a ray of salvation. A ray of salvation that breaks the tyranny of the storm.
"Oh, my baby!"
Run to your child. Embrace her. Feel the divine energy that radiates from their strong heart. A heart hosted in a small, fresh body. That is the body of a being that can bring their own unique light – a light that is their own and will never be matched – when raised good.
For several agonizing minutes, a mother has waited in the dark. Doubting everything. For what seemed like a torturous eon, it seemed her motherhood was for naught.
But vindication, salvation, and triumph has come. Another chance to fulfill a life-long choice has been granted.
Not obligation, responsibility, or duty. Choice.
The bonds of a parent and child have broken. But fate has constructed a stronger bridge to span the chasm.
The parent knows now to keep virtues close. And to keep a child closer.
The child now knows that the strength of the dove is the flock, and the strength of the flock is the dove.
Falling from the sky,
Life is granted here on Earth.
Choose to wield it with wisdom,
And your reward is lasting mirth.
Run with the pack or run solo,
The choice is yours to make.
See if you can find the answers in your heart.
Hopefully you choose to give, not take.
Find solace in those close to you,
But remember your effervescent breath.
Let your soul shine, and master your own path.
You're an individual Droplet.
Christopher Lair has NOT been born yet, when this story takes place.
Can you believe that I took inspiration for this oneshot from Jaws, of all places?
Sorry for the nightmare fuel, but I did compensate with enough cuteness and sheer pathos, did I not?
Seems pretty dark for something out of WITCH, doesn't it?
Well this story takes place in my own imagined universe, and it's just a taste of the kind of maturity that I'll be showcasing in my main story.
Behind the Scenes:
I had to grapple a bit with an important story point here.
Should Anna be Irma's birth mother (like the cartoon version) or stepmother (like the comic version)?
I eventually chose the former.
That way I could make this oneshot cover the special bond between a mother and her daughter. A theme that will be prominent in my trilogy.
Please leave a review! I poured my whole heart out to make this one!