Alberto watched the boat from below. The water underneath it only became slightly darker as the fickle light of the moon was blocked. Sound from above did not carry more than a murmur of voices to him: the slight rumbling of a man's whispered speech, the interception of another voice. The song of a Magic Singing Lady Machine.
He swam closer to the surface, power surging within him as he easily sliced through the water. His hand peaked above its curtain, groping for anything he could grab off the boat. He used to be more gentle about this, taking care not to cause sound that would draw attention. Now he reached quickly, shifting and knocking other items as he selected the closest ones to him. He pulled back, not really caring if he made extra noise. He could take care of himself.
And if he was being honest, the idea of getting caught used to haunt him—imagining what would happen to him in the hands of the land monsters. It didn't seem so bad anymore… He almost wished they peaked over the edge of the boat and saw him.
No one had seen him in a long while.
Something shifted as he reached up again. A tiny, imperceptible sound from where he was, but one of the men turned. His eyes wide with fear, a gasp rushing from the space where he stood to where Alberto swam, attacking him with the man's terror.
Alberto dived below the surface.
He'd been seen. He should be terrified.
He loved it.
There wasn't time to register everything that happened. He was seen. A net was thrown. He was almost caught. He propelled himself forward, away from the boat.
A harpoon hit the water behind him, the sharp edge catching on the fabric of his sleeve, tearing through it, scratching his arm. Just barely, just enough for the prickle of pain to flare. A sea monster's scales were much thicker than that of a human's skin, he had learned from experience. It should have been a blessing—maybe it was a curse.
He waited for the boat to turn tail and run, back to whatever town it had come from, to a family, and neighbors, and a constant stream of faces. Away from him.
It shouldn't have sunk his heart—attached an anchor to the muscle and carried it to the deep—but someone had seen him, knew he existed, and now they were gone.
Land beckoned to him, pulling him back to shore like a wave drawn upon the sand. He followed its call, chasing the water that pushed itself towards his island, his home. Arms wrapped around his chest, cold water engulfing him in an unwanted hug.
He came from the sea—from a people born of water—but the sea was not a part of him. Not the way it was for others of his kind. He did not belong to it, and it did not belong to him.
It was beautiful and majestic and he was attracted to its wrath, admired it from a distance, yet from his earliest memories it had never accepted him as its own. The waters mocked him, let him in to pass through, to play, then kicked him out. He wasn't welcome. Not really.
He belonged to the land more than the sea. Made it his home, crafted a place within its heart, felt its acceptance bleed from every grain of sand and overturned rock as he forced himself onto a terrain that was not his own. It wasn't quite right, he didn't quite fit, but he made it work.
The land was rough and so was he.
In his fortress, surrounded by waves of human knick knacks and trinkets, that was his sea. That was the home he was made to inhabit. A cruel joke from the universe, a boy unable to live with the creatures of the sea or of the land.
Secluded from the rest of the world who knew where they fit.
Sometimes he wondered, while he lay on his back and gazed at the fish in the sky, what it would be like up there. Was it more of the same? Maybe he belonged there more than he did down here, maybe he dropped from up there by mistake, fell from one world to the next and got trapped in a land he was never supposed to be in.
Sometimes he wondered, what else existed in the world. Besides his fortress and the sea and the little town that he caught glimpses of from across the water but never dared to visit. What else existed outside of this world—when you finally stopped breathing? Was there someplace better? A place he would finally belong?
Did he dare to find out?
Most days he thought he did. Most days he imagined it and wanted nothing more than to visit the land beyond whatever he was living now.
Some days he knew he wouldn't be able to. He wasn't scared; he could have done it in a heartbeat. But what if he was just forcing himself onto another land that did not want him? Falling from this universe to the next once again.
It was better to wait until that land called to him. Accepted him as their own. It called for everyone eventually, and then he would finally be in a place that wanted him there. He wouldn't be intruding if they asked before he visited.
So he waited.
Day by day… doing the same old nothing, watching the fish in the sky at night, blinking down at him until he drifted off to sleep—
to start all over again the next day.
Alberto wore the suit to collect the items he had dropped the night before. He didn't know why. He was meant for water, his body literally morphed to the touch of the sea, still he wore it. Dropped like a rock to the sea floor.
It didn't take long to spot what he had lost. Human stuff was sparse down here. And planted in the wet sand was the Magic Singing Lady Machine. His excitement spiked; he'd never gotten his hands on one of those.
As he moved to get closer to the machine he saw movement. A flash of blue and green, and suddenly there was another body floating around his prize. Scaled hands groping the fine metal and head tilting curiously to take a better look at it.
Alberto moved closer, barely of his own accord. When was the last time he'd been so close to another of his species? It had been a long time. Since he'd last seen his dad…what, two, three years ago?
The other sea monster turned—startled. A boy, maybe a couple years younger than him. He dashed forward, hiding within a nook in the rocks. Not a smart hiding spot, but Alberto almost let him be anyway. He was starting to make a habit of scaring people that he wasn't sure he was comfortable with, but…
He'd been seen. Again. Twice in less than twenty-four hours. That was more than he could say for the day before, heck even the week before.
And he liked the feeling.
He followed the young sea monster under the rocks, saw him pressed against the farthest wall in fear.
"It's fine." Alberto said, pulling off the helmet. "I'm not human."
AN: Please consider leaving a review to let me know what you think. The next chapter is in the works and should be up shortly.