Page 4 of Whispers of the Deep

Baring his teeth in a feral grin, he lashed his tail behind him as he descended toward the pipe.

It was gray and long, a silly contraption that had no use on the ocean floor. It dug through the plants, bubbling in a few places where the air escaped. It destroyed everything around it, and the metal gave off a horrible scent. Like blood. Nothing grew around it, and he knew that it never would.

The achromos coated their pipes in some disgusting material that burned anything that touched it. He knew the feeling well. His webbed palms had been calloused since he started this work, after he dared to touch what the achromos created.

And still, it had never stopped him.

Arges gathered the largest rock he could find and turned his attention to the pipe. With a ferocity that his mother would be proud of, he beat upon the metal. Over and over again, he lifted the heavy stone above his head and used his coiling body to strike it down.

Fighting against the ocean with every movement, he continued until his muscles burned. Until his body ached, and still he continued. Blood rose from the webs between his fingers where the stone had bitten through the thin membranes. But he would persist. He would defeat the achromos, and avenge his father, and...

The pipe burst.

Air blasted through the water and sent him tumbling away from the pipe. It struck him so hard that it threw him back against the stone wall behind him. A far distance to be thrown, for certain.

He hit his head against the rock. Speckles danced in front of his eyes, white and black, glimmering like the scales of his favorite fish. No, that wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be thinking of food. Not right now. Where... Where was he?

Shaking his head, he let the salt water sting the wound as he rapidly blinked. Right. The air that blasted diagonally was now rising through the water. Bubbles, so many of them that surely his brothers could see them even where they were in the distance.

His pod cried out. The long, echoing wails of their glee could be heard from miles away.

And again, pride puffed out his chest. He had been the first. Of all the pod, all those who had fought and battled, Arges was the first to destroy his pipe.

Daios might think he wasn’t worthy enough to lead this pod, but he had been the first. The only one with the dedication to actually crack through the metal in such a short amount of time.

Breathing hard, gills flared wide, he found that he couldn’t stop himself. He had to see what he had done. The pipe trailed along through the rock, straight through the peaks of stone, blasted with fire and explosions. He followed the trail of destruction, looping over the broken stones and through a kelp forest before he found where it connected to their metal tubes. There were no windows on this one, though. He couldn’t see them.

And oh, he wanted to see them. He wanted to see the terror in their eyes as they realized all their life bringing air was running out. He wanted to see their expressions as they looked through the glass and knew he had been the one to do this. Arges, the black tailed monster, who haunted their dreams.

Left or right?

He looked toward the right and saw the dome he’d already cracked through. The woman had been there, fixing it for some reason or another. The achromos always liked to spread.

But did that mean... His eyes trailed along the metal tubing from that dome. It led to a spiderweb of tubings that eventually went to the tall buildings that had more levels than he could count.

Which meant if he went left, that should lead him to the quarters where she must have come from. So he went left, letting the currents carry him all the way to a larger room with flat panels of glass that allowed him to see the few stragglers. They hurried through the tube, heading toward a much larger section where he’d seen rooms opening and then disappearing into higher sections.

Some of the dirty achromos held their hands near their mouths, their forms shuddering as they staggered toward the life saving room that opened and closed far too slowly. They might all die. Ah, and he would stand here watching them suffer for all they had wrought.

Until one of them saw him.

The male was larger than the others. His chest was barreled out, his shoulders wide, and his jaw strong. He pointed at Arges, face red and mouth open wide. He could just barely hear the man’s shouts.

Who knew what he was saying? the achromo’s language was simplistic and grating. Short, staccato sounds like the cracking of stones striking against each other. It grated on his ears and anger flashed again.

The pride he’d felt at killing them wouldn’t be ruined by this one fool. He swam closer, antagonizing the man. He wanted to see the life disappearing from his eyes. He wanted to watch the man gasp and writhe like an eel in the throes of death.

Like a school of fish, the others parted around the man who stood shouting at him. Most of the achromos wilted next to the strange disappearing room. They waited for their opportunity and then darted into it. Packing in so close that they looked like one being, with many eyes and many limbs.

And still, Arges drew closer. Like he and the man were connected. They drew so close that they could have touched if the glass hadn’t been between them. He glared into the man’s eyes, which glowed with hatred just as much as Arges’s did.

He hated them. He wanted them all dead. But this was the first opportunity he’d ever had to actually watch the life flood out of one. Strange and wondrous it would be.

Until the man hit a button on the wall. Red color flashed all around them. The color was one he’d seen from the achromos before, a warning signal they used for the others. But a small flare of worry hit him hard in the chest as the man backed away from the glass.

What was he doing?

Why did he suddenly appear so... pleased?

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