Showing posts with label Crossover. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Crossover. Show all posts

Sunday, July 29, 2007

The Island of Beasts

The Island of Dr Moreau, possibly crossed with Xena Warrior Princess über. An alcoholic woman bent on killing herself with debauchery finds herself stranded on an island of nightmares, and in desperate need to sober up - fast.
("Mike"/"Ria")



Read The Island of Beasts






Disclaimer: When I wrote this I initially intended it as a XWP über on the theme of “The Island of Dr Moreau” (not the movie), but in truth it is an old idea of mine that predates my discovery of XWP and I have since writing it felt that there isn’t much XWP in it at all, perhaps not enough to claim it as such. A bit unsure what to claim it is I’ll leave it up to you to decide. Either way I own neither XWP nor The Island of Dr Moreau, just to have that properly disclaimed.

Two of the names of characters in this story are borrowed from a friend of mine and her wife, they are sweet people and don’t seem too offended when I do things like this. ^-^





The Island of Beasts
--------------------------------------
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson






How did I end up on that island of hell? In a sense I think I had been heading there for a good long while.

Allow me to explain why.

See, I was an alcoholic and a womanizer, determined to spend my life so plastered I couldn’t remember who I was, until the booze, one of the any number of diseases the women whom I had for sport could have carried, or the lowlife dregs that occupied the same space in the world as I, did me in. It was my way of killing myself, and damn if I didn’t try it real hard, too.

When I was a teen, I was involved in an… accident. I killed my best friend, and that’s all I’ll say about that. I didn’t mean to, god knows I’d rather have bit the bullet myself than see him hurt, but that’s not how things went.

Court found me guilty and so did I, but the thing about being connected to old money is that there’s always a loophole. Even for the black sheep of the family.

So many years later, drinking my way into hell with a zeal that was right near religious, I got into the worst mess of my entire life. I haven’t a clue how it happened, but when I came to I was buck naked and curled up behind some cargo aboard a boat.

The sailors came close to killing me on the spot when they discovered me. Whatever they where shipping out to that remote, off-the-map island, was not the kind of stuff that they wanted witnesses to. But I got lucky, and bad weather made them in sore need of an extra pair of arms, so I made myself useful until they arrived at the island. It wasn’t the first time I pretended to be a sailor, and it wouldn’t be the last.

On the island I made a bad choice, although I thought it was the only one at the time. There would be times later when I wished I had simply stayed on the pirate vessel and let them try to kill me as we got near a real port instead of staying on his island.

He met me at the tiny wooden docks where the supplies were unloaded, surprised at my presence but civil about it in that smarmy, nauseating way some men have that are used to manipulating people to their wishes. I thought I had gotten lucky again when he eventually told me that he was in need of a handyman that could do the daily fishing and any number of odd fix-up jobs around the place. In return I’d be fed, clothed and kept in booze for the six months it would take until another boat came along, one that would take me back where I came from. It seemed like a sweet deal, and I accepted.

Boy, was that ever stupid of me.

He was Doctor Viktor Schaussen of Hamburg, though I’m sure that was a lie too, as the man was no more German than my left pinkie – and my French mama would be upset if anybody suggested that, but no matter; I called him Doc. The islanders, I would soon find out, called him Father.

There were things he told me from the start, but most of the truth I discovered on my own, step by step, during the months of hell that I stayed there. Perhaps it would have been less horrifying if I hadn’t.

This island that I had stumbled upon had no real name, and could not be found on a map. The only way to find it was if someone, through some accident of fate, actually steered right upon it by boat… or had access to certain military information. The island had been the site for military experimentation once, though what military is more than I could tell you, and while the scientists had in the end been forced to close up their labs and leave, their subjects had been left to their own devices on the island.

The research had been genetic manipulation, or some other fancy name that means pretty much the same thing; human beings twisted and toyed with until they were more animal than human.

Two generations later Doc arrived. Dusted off the old furniture and brought in his own equipment, and started the whole, dirty business over again. Only, he called it research, research on what the island’s own version of evolution had done to the creatures that descended from those that had been left there before.

At first I actually believed him. I saw the creatures that passed as people on that isle, and while some of them were so hideous they made my hands itch for the shotgun Doc gave me, others looked little different from any other woman or man I could have met in a bar. Hell, some of those women were pretty enough that I’d have offered them a drink, even.

I got to know some of the more peaceful ones during my stay there. They served Doc and his team of a few scientists and whatnots up in the fancy mansion that covered the labs like a nice coat of cake frosting. What lay underneath was nothing short of rotten, and believe me, I know rotten when I see it. Even so, these peaceful ones, whether pretty or ugly, were rather complacent and seemed to worship “Father” with all their primitive selves, regarding whatever he said as absolute truth.

I should have realized that he was slipping them a little something in their food and water, but then again, I didn’t realize that he was slipping me a little of the same, either. I spent my days in a drunken haze and never questioned things that obviously did not add up. Like the ones that disappeared. Or the horrifying screams I overheard once or twice while working in the mansion myself.

The wild ones were dangerous. Less affected by whatever drugs administrered to the other lot, these creatures were more wild, violent and openly rebellious to “Father’s” regime. The only thing that kept them at bay was the fear of the weapons and, I realized later, the gruesome torture that some of their number endured in those labs.

I was given a small hut near the beach, as I went out every morning to fish and, evidently, so that I wouldn’t be underfoot and ask uncomfortable questions. I had all the booze I could drink to occupy my time when not working, and I had a shotgun and a magnum to ensure me that the wild ones did not attack. Doc never really considered them a threat anyhow. It was his mistake.

What turned my life around, and not for just for my visit to hell island either, started off as just another evening of Jack and me being sociable. There was an awful racket outside, and finally I went out to yell at whoever disturbed my steady drinking until I’d pass out for the night, and maybe wave my shotgun around. What I saw was one of the more hideous males chasing a female around, coming to a stop virtually on top of my cabin when he caught up with her.

Ok, so I’m a woman of pretty much no morals. And I was good and gone on my way to liquor-induced oblivion, but… I’m a damn good shot even with booze in my system, and I wasn’t about to watch a girl get raped right on my front lawn.

I also rather enjoyed singeing a few hairs off his ass for disturbing me.

I was still yelling at his running form as she dashed through the door behind me and into my hut. It startled me enough to make me stop yelling and get back inside, as I knew none of the primitives on the isle dared near my hut, friendly or not. And who knows, maybe I was afraid she’d hog my Jack.

She was hiding under my desk, shaking and staring out the door. Whatever braincells I had left that wasn’t swimming around on their way to a premature death must have kicked in then, because I closed the door carefully and went to sit on the bed. Soon enough she dared out from under my desk and sat on the floor to stare at me. I lay back on the bed and continued my drinking, speaking to her occasionally, and she seemed to relax considerably.

I really have no recollection of what happened during the rest of that night, which is something I truly regret. If I had been just a little more sober I am sure I wouldn’t have done… whatever it was that I did that ended her up in my bed. I am sure I was not forceful however, as for one thing it’s just something that’s not in my nature, forcing women. For another, I have since seen just how much stronger, faster, and everything else-er than me this particular bedmate was, and have no doubt that any forceful behavior on my part would have ended me up in bits and pieces rather than bed.

I woke up next morning, still with a nice buzz in my head but at least clear enough to realize that there was a naked woman in my arms and the smell of sex in the air. Eventually my mind got around to the fact that the woman in my arms was one of the islanders, and therefore not entirely human, and I admit that I felt panic start to creep up my sluggish spine. She was asleep however, and I stopped thinking for a while to just get a good look at her.

To put it simply she was, is, and always will be the most god-damned gorgeous woman I have ever seen.

She lay snuggled close on my chest, her face peaceful and innocent in sleep, as well as startlingly flawless. Her body was the same way, strong, tempting muscles hidden in perfect and generous curves under skin a shade to golden to be a mere tan. She was considerably shorter than me, but compact in a way that promised power if she needed it. Her hair was blonde in a way, though speckled through with strands of white and red that made me think of the fur of some large cat or other, and far too silky for my sensibilities. I couldn’t keep from running my fingers through it, and that was when she awoke.

The satisfied smile that shaped alluring full lips seemed to hint that she had enjoyed our night together at least, and then she opened her eyes. They were golden, and so open and trusting that what was left of my brain backfired.

When she moved against me with a low purring sound, all thoughts of not quite human islanders or genetic whatevers was the last thing on my mind. To me it seemed like I hadn’t had a woman in forever, and damn, was she ever beautiful.

I didn’t get around to do the fishing that day until rather late, and my brand-spanking new, clearly feline and not entirely human lover sat waiting for me on the beach while I hurried to empty the nets. Her large, trusting, golden eyes never left me, and I swear my heart was doing an odd little dance in my chest every time I looked into them.

For a while I had quite an interesting new hobby.

I’d go about my chores as usual, getting fairly plastered while doing it, then meet her by my hut and proceed to roll around in bed with her with a dedicated desperation that I previously had only held for booze. She seemed to be hovering around me all the time, unless I was working near the mansion, always smiling and looking at me with those trusting golden eyes.

I talked to her a lot. She wouldn’t answer me, of course, and I’m sure I wasn’t much of a conversationalist anyway, but I kept talking to her. Perhaps I was feeling a bit lonely or something. And I for some reason I wanted to know her name.

I don’t think I had ever really expected her to answer me, but she did. With a sweet voice heavily accented with rolling R’s that turned me on because it sounded so much like that sexy growl she would make in bed, she told me her name was Ria. She had a very limited vocabulary, but she did speak, and the more I spoke to her, the more she learned. I didn’t quite appreciate how smart she was, then, or how quickly she learned.

Looking back I realize that for the first time in my life I was actually happy.

Time passed on this way, and without me noticing it, our ever-increasing activities began weaning me off the alcohol. Oh I still drank a lot, but it was getting to be less and less, as I simply did not have the time to drown myself in a bottle when I could drown myself in her instead.

She was sweetness itself. I discovered cuddling with her, as well as a multitude of other simple pleasures that wasn’t directly connected to sex. Her thirst for knowledge made me dig into my foggy memories to drag out snippets of information to teach her. She seemed convinced I knew all the secrets in the world… a strange feeling for someone who would have been kicked out of school if the family had not bought off a few teachers to keep me from creating another scandal. Or maybe it just was so that they wouldn’t have to put up with me coming home, I don’t know. Either way, Ria’s gentle presence became a constant in my life.

And I buried the fact that she wasn’t really human somewhere deep in the back of my mind.

Like I said, because I no longer had as much time to spend drinking, I was slowly veering towards sobriety. Had I been self-aware enough to realize it, I’m sure I would have been terrified, but I wasn’t, and things happened accordingly. Then one day I caught a look on her face as I reached for an unopened bottle of Jack. I wavered. And ended up asking her if she wanted a drink with me, not because I expected her to get drunk with me or nothing, but because it was suddenly clear to me that she despised it and I didn’t know how else to ask.

She told me no, she couldn’t abide the stench. Her nostrils flared as if to emphasise her point, but it was the utterly revolted look in her eyes that did me in. That, and something that looked like fear that flashed by in those gold eyes for just a moment. Just like that I put the bottle back where I got it, and damned if it wasn’t still there, unopened, the last time I set foot in that hut.

I’ve never tasted a drop since.

Oh, I won’t pretend I wasn’t tempted a lot, that getting sober and staying that way wasn’t damned hard. Or that doing so on that specific island wasn’t utterly terrifying. But every time I came close to drinking, I’d remember that look in her eyes, and that just decided it for me. I’ll admit also that once the booze got out of my system my head cleared up, and I realized just what a dangerous situation I had gotten myself into.

I needed to stay sober and keep on my toes just to make sure we’d both make it. Yeah, that’s right, by then I really didn’t want to think of waking up one morning without her.

My little bubble of happy didn’t go by unnoticed by others, although I might have thought it would at first. I don’t know how I could have thought it wouldn’t happen sooner or later, but then again I was ignoring quite a lot of things back then.

So the evening when my Ria stumbled into the hut all bloodied and torn I can honestly say that I was in no way prepared for it. Nor did I realize that it was the beginning of the end for that isle; all I saw was my gentle lover hurt. I vaguely remember grabbing my shotgun and scooping Ria up in my arms to carry her over to the mansion.

Damn, I really must have been out of it… the mansion was a good distance away from my hut, and despite her deceptive size, Ria was heavy. It didn’t even slow me down. And thinking back on it now, what in the world did I think I was going to be able to do if we were attacked while walking, with Ria all but unconscious in my arms? The shotgun wasn’t going to be enough protection against what was coming, that was for sure.

I got her to the mansion and didn’t stop for niceties when I encountered the servants and other doctors, I barged on until I found the Doc himself. I don’t remember what I said to him, perhaps I threatened him if he wouldn’t immediately get off his ass and heal my girl, I’m not sure. I know that he looked very surprised, and that Ria was frightened out of her mind.

I refused to let her go, so after a moment of hesitation Ria and I were brought to the facilities underneath the mansion. Ria shook so badly that it was quite obvious to everyone present that the only thing keeping her from clawing her way out of there was the fact that it was me holding her. I didn’t much think about the speculating looks thrown my way by Doc as I was preoccupied keeping Ria calm enough to let the other scientist types patch her up.

Also, I was standing guard to make sure they didn’t try anything funny with her. Even as distraught as I were, one glance around the room they had led me to was all it took for me to get freaky flashbacks to old movies like Frankenstein and the like. It was obviously the nesting place of madmen, and I had brought my woman there. I pretended that I didn’t notice anything, that I was too upset and too much of a simpleton to realize what some of that stuff meant, knowing that it was just about the only thing I could do at the time.

They patched her up just fine, without any funny stuff that either of us could tell, but I heard them comment between themselves in words and terms that I wasn’t supposed to understand. And OK, so I didn’t understand it all that much, but despite my pitiful school efforts I was no stranger to some of the latin terms these people were tossing around. I thanked them profusely, acting a bit drunk in the process, grabbed my girl and headed for the exits.

Doc wasn’t about to let us go. He wanted to know who had done this to Ria, and insisted that I let one of the scientists check her for sexual assault. The scientist in question stepped up with a big shot of something nasty-looking, apparently thinking that since Doc had suggested it, it was how it had to be. Ria clung to me so desperately that I could feel every rapid beat of her heart as it seemed to jump right out through her skin.

I stopped the guy with the syringe. Then I asked my girl if she had been raped. I know it wasn’t the most gentle or sensitive way to go about it, but damn, I wasn’t in a situation to be gentle, and I was about three little letters away from going beserk on the populace with a chainsaw as it was. For some reason Doc and the others seemed surprised that I thought to ask Ria at all, and even more as my lover stood angrily, gave me a glare and strongly stated in halting and slightly broken english, that no, she wouldn’t let anybody touch her that way because she was mine.

Then she added in a different tone and in words from my mother’s native French that she belonged to me and me alone. I’m sure my stupid grin was completely inappropriate for the occasion, but I didn’t have much say in the matter anyway.

When asked who had done this to her, Ria reluctantly admitted that it was several of the wild ones that had attacked her. Apparently there had been increasing hostilites against her from them ever since they began smelling my scent on her, and she had ended up fighting quite a few of them.

So I’m not a sensitive person. But knowing that my girl had been in trouble for some time and never told me about it, hurt. I barked something along the lines of “hey you’re not going back there and that’s final”, I think – and maybe a “baby” or something affectionate like that I suppose – and this time I was just to pissed for the whitecoats to stop me. Doc hollered to me just as I was about to carry my girl out the doors of the mansion that I was under no circumstances to retaliate on my own, he and his people was going to make sure everything was taken care of. In fact, he didn’t want me or Ria to step outside the hut for a few days until he had taken care of the dissenters, as he called them.

I’ve got to admit that the old guy had me pegged. If Ria hadn’t needed me by her side right then I would have taken my gun and my shotgun and made sure the world was a few bastards less. As it was I didn’t dare to leave her, although I thought I’d make that little trip once she was better.

Yeah right.

Anyway, a couple of the scientist types gave us a lift in the truck back to the hut, providing us with some extra food, booze and water to tide us over for a day or two, as well as some extra ammo for my shotgun, just in case. I was surprised to find out that there was an electric defence thingy built into the walls of my hut that once activated would give shocks to whoever tried to get in. I guess I finally had the answer why the islanders avoided my hut, but at the moment I’d take whatever protection I could get for Ria. Our escort kept asking me questions about Ria and about our sexual interactions, as apparently the idea of one of the islanders being gay was very intriguing, but instead of telling them all to go to hell – pointless, I know, we were all already there – I asked them rather evilly if they wanted me to demonstrate my technique. I should have payed more attention.

I got Ria back into the hut and into bed, where I fully intended to keep her for the foreseeable future. I locked up around us and found the activator for the defence system where I had been told to look, and had it up and running as well. Even so, I made sure the shotgun and gun were both loaded and within reach, and then sat guard, watching the night through the one little window of the hut.

A strong wind started blowing, and it wasn’t until well past midnight that I realized that the howling of the wind wasn’t just the wind.

My lover got out of bed and hovered nervously by my side, her much keener senses picking up whatever it was that I only thought I had heard. We sat there listening, and she told me she could hear guns, and screaming, and the howls of the islanders. We cracked open the window the hear better, and after a while she told me she could feel a faint scent of fire on the wind. The sounds got stronger as the night passed on towards morning, and as the sun was about to begin to rise on the horizon, Ria gasped and growled quietly.

I followed her gaze out through the window, and at first I couldn’t see what it was that she had seen. Then I caught just the barest hint of something moving towards the hut. Ria was still growling as the first one jumped up on the roof.

The defence system released an electric shock that sounded almost like thunder in the eerie quiet that had settled around the hut, and the bluish light bathed the scene like lightning, with a similarly lethal effect on the creature that had landed on the roof. It was then, during that bluish light, that I saw that we had been surrounded by far more creatures than I had seen at any one time before on the island. And on and on they came, making the hut shake violently as they killed themselves on the electricity running on the outside of the walls.

I was afraid the walls would break before they did when the attacks suddenly stopped. Looking out confirmed that they were still there, just more cautious since several of their number had already died in their attempts at getting inside. For a long time there were only sporadic attacks or things thrown, and Ria and I got whatever I had in the way of weapons ready in case we would need to make a run for it.

Finally a rock was thrown that didn’t cause an electric discharge. I checked the activation hatch only to find that the system appeared to either have run out of power or simply burnt itself out. Another few rocks were thrown, and when that didn’t cause a discharge either, a howl went up around the hut.

Ria and I burst out of the hut at the same time the creatures attacked. I kept her behind me and my weapons clearing us a path as we ran as fast as I could go away from there. The beasts chased us, but seemed more fearful of my guns than of the electricity, and kept at a distance. I picked off whoever dared closer as we ran, but eventually we had to run out of ammunition.

For a while the bluff of my shotgun held them at bay, but it wasn’t to last. As one large beast lunged towards me I suddenly heard a furious lion’s roar from behind me, and a blonde blur that was my Ria raced past to clash with the attacker with murderous intent.

I can’t put in words the horror of that night, of all the things I witnessed that has haunted me since, especially not that sight. My Ria, my beautiful, gentle, sweet lover, transformed into a most lethal beast in her efforts to protect me, fighting so many, too many, of those nightmares with nothing more than muscle, fangs and claws. I saw her covered in blood both her own and theirs as she bit and tore and clawed at the mass of bodies charging her. Not many of them made it past her.

It wasn’t until a long time after all the events on that isle that I came to the realization that my Ria had been one of Doc’s special projects. I heard the whitecoats say things that night that didn’t make sense to me until later, and it all added up. They had… enhanced her somewhat, though I have no idea how, when or exactly what, only that Ria was far faster and stronger than most of her opponents that night. Her claws that appeared to be ordinary nails in their retracted state must have been about two inches long when she fought, and I would see her slice them through the barrel of a rifle like it was paper. Still, she was already wounded, and her opponents too many. Eventually she would have been overrun, and we would both have been killed.

I was actually grateful when the truck drove up to us and the whitecoats shot electric bolts and tranquillizers through the writhing bodies.

I was pulled up on the truck almost before I knew it, but somehow I still managed to grab a hold of Ria and pull her up to me before she had gotten shot with the others. Another truck drove up, and the creatures that didn’t run off was soon loaded into cages on them. Doc came up to me and Ria and started going on about how this was a most unfortunate development, and how he needed to contain the islanders to stop this mad behaviour. From what I understood by his somewhat megalomaniac speech, the wild ones had finally rebelled and many had died in the process, both islanders and Doc’s cronies. The mansion was burning beyond rescue, and most of the islanders that had served Doc were gone while many of the wild ones were still on the loose. He intended to collect as many of his favoured samples as possible, then kill the rest and hole up on the beach in wait for the ship to arrive so he could repeat his experiments elsewere.

I was so outraged by the sheer idiocy of this man that I did not react in time. Ria, tired and so wounded, did not either. Someone slugged me over the head, hard, and I went down on my knees. The last thing I saw before a second blow sent me to la-la land was my Ria slicing through a rifle in her struggles as a bunch of them held her and Doc held a needle to her neck.

I woke up to pandemonium. I have no idea how long I was out, but when I came to I was tossed in a heap in the back of the truck, near one of the cages that had been filled with islanders. I wasn’t the only one that had returned to consciousness, and the nightmares packed to bursting in the cage not far from me were almost so deafening that I didn’t realize what else was going on.

I wasn’t sure where we were, just that it was some other location than where I had last been conscious, and there were more of Doc’s people about. They were fighting more islanders again, but their elevated location on the trucks combined with the superior weapons gave them a nasty advantage over the primitive beasts that howled and snarled around us. I looked around for my Ria, and finally spotted her at the other end of the truck, near Doc himself. She was lying in an unmoving heap, either unconscious or dead, I didn’t know which, but at least she wasn’t in one of the cages. Of course, once I thought about that it hit me that it probably meant that my lover was already dead, since the whitecoats had hurried to pack the unconscious islanders into the cages before.

I… don’t want to sound like some overly romantic shithead, but the thought of her gone… did something to me. I turned back to the cage near me, and looked into the eyes of one of the beasts. I recognised him from the hut, he had appeared to be some sort of pack leader, and Ria had fought with him right before Doc showed up. In fact I could still see her blood around his mouth, as well as the wounds she had given him.

If she was gone I wasn’t about to stick around either. But first I was going to make sure those bastards that took her from me got theirs.

I got back on my feet and lunged at the whitecoat nearest to me. I lucked out, he had the keys to the cage, and I snatched them from him before I shoved him off the truck and right into waiting clawed arms. His screams never reached me.

The other whitecoats noticed me then, but I was already at the cage, turning the key in the surprisingly old-fashioned lock. I looked into the eyes of the pack leader again, at close range. For a moment everything seemed to happen in slow motion… some of Doc’s cronies were running towards me, but my hands were already opening the door. The animal’s eyes stayed locked with mine for what seemed a long moment – I still have vividly detailed nightmares about those eyes – before they shifted to Doc for a moment, and then returned to me. It seemed like… an understanding.

I opened the cage.

I was flung across the truck by the force when they poured out of the cage and sent sprawling on the floor. I watched, eerily detached, from an upside-down viewpoint how the pack leader and a few others attacked Doc, and how they tore him apart as they toppled him off the truck. Doc held a weapon in his hands, and in some kind of death spasm it fired, tearing the pack leader in two, but it was just too late. Doc was gone.

The other beasts overran the whitecoats, and it was a bloodbath on both sides. I ignored it all as I crawled across dead bodies to get to Ria’s unmoving form, and somehow in the melee I wasn’t attacked.

Imagine my shock, and my joy, at finding that Ria was still breathing.

Somehow I managed to pull us both into a corner, hiding us under some corpses conveniently there, and waited for the raging battle to move on. And it did. I pulled Ria’s unconscious form with me and got down from the truck, somehow managing to sneak away into the night with her in my arms. I heard the insanity continue all around us, and, come to think of it, the islanders must have turned against one another at the end, because surely all of Doc’s cronies had been killed by then. Never the less, I carried Ria down to the tiny dock and aboard my fishing boat.

A massive explosion shook the ground as I cast off for the relative safety of open waters, although I have no idea what on that island could have created an explosion of that magnitude. I did sit and watch the island go down in flames from my vantage point of a small fishing boat slowly heading out for the open seas it wasn’t built for, with my unconscious lover tucked into my arms. The fire spread quickly, until it seemed most of the island was burning, and I wonder if perhaps Ria and I were the only survivors.

I never found out. I do know that I lost consciousness sometime during the next day, and we drifted for days before we were found by a freighter ship and rescued. They had an old doctor on board that got us back on our feet before the freighter reached port, but we ended up staying on that old ship with it’s rambunctious but good-natured old captain for nearly three more months, until it got us back to where I had come from, before.

He also married my Ria and me.

Getting back to the US and the mainland put me in a position to use family resources, and it didn’t take too long until I had gotten us a house in a small, friendly, out-of-the-way town where people wouldn’t be asking uncomfortable questions or make our lives miserable. Where the neighbours didn’t mind the lesbian couple next door, and didn’t warn the kids away from “the strange-looking woman with yellow eyes”.

I told our neighbours, Madelyne and Richard, a story to explain Ria’s unusual appearance and innocence to the supposedly modern world – the true irony of it all was that it was all true too, I just didn’t go into that the genetical oddities Ria had inherited from her parents was due to genetical experiments making people into animals and such – and they welcomed us with open arms. Maddie especially took a very protective stance where Ria was concerned, while Richard and I did the male bonding thing somehow… it amused our ladies something awful, and Maddie would call us “our boys Ricky and Mickey”, though I suppose that wasn’t so bad. I still prefer to just be called Mike, although I guess it’s still better than being called Michaela. I never did think it suited me much.

The kids loved Ria, and Ria simply adored them. It saddened me that I couldn’t give her a kid of our own, but I also knew that Ria felt very strongly that her genetic heritance shouldn’t be allowed to be passed on. I disagree, in my opinion she is simply too good for this world, and anything that comes from her has to improve it greatly. But then I’m obviously biased too, since I’m head over heels in love with her.

Being unofficially adopted into the Matthews family seemed to cover that fairly nicely though, since Maddie and Richard’s three kids adored their “aunt Ri” an awful lot. My own family, well, let’s just say that they’re baffled out of their collective wits that I’ve turned my life around like this, and they’re not objecting that I’m tapping into some of my inheritance to make us a home we can keep. In fact I’ve written to my mother a few times, telling her the same story about Ria that I told Maddie and Richard at first, and I have even gotten a few careful replies as well as a Christmas card with a picture of a nephew I didn’t even know I had.

Life seemed perfect, right? So of course something had to happen.

Maddie and Richard was over by us, and we were all having a barbecue in the back yard. The kids had been around for the food and then scampered off to play as they usually did, no-one really thinking much about it. Until the eldest, William, came running up to his parents with tears in his eyes, telling them that he couldn’t find his baby sister anywhere.

The Matthews’ youngest, Emma, was the sweetest and most precocious three-year-old I ever saw, and Ria’s favourite. Sarah, the six-year-old middle child, came up to my Ria clutching Emma’s favourite toy, the one that Emma never parted with, ever. So Sarah turned to my Ria with her big blue eyes and begged auntie Ri to find her baby sister, handing her the toy.

God knows I’ll never make assumptions about what kids know ever again.

My Ria looked up at me briefly, and with that single look a part of me started making plans for who to sell our house, and where we would go from here. Ria brought the toy up to her nose and scented it, while asking Will and Sarah to show her where they had found it. I didn’t need to look at Richard and Maddie to know that they were looking at Ria funny.

The kids brought us to a spot in the street outside their own house, and Ria knelt down to catch Emma’s scent on the pavement. She was no longer wearing her sunglasses, and I don’t think I was the only one who saw my beloved’s eyes glow with the hunting instinct. After that Ria shot to her feet and looked alertly down the street, before setting of at a dead run.

Richard and I ran after her as fast as we could, leaving Maddie bringing the kids behind us at a slower pace. We were still running when we saw Ria catch up to a large waste-disposal truck – apparently she is fast enough to match a car on short distances - and leap onto it.

My lover clung nearly upside down to the truck like it was the easiest thing in the world, and it looked to us as if she just lightly punched the back of the truck and peeled it open. I got a closer look at the back of that truck later that day and saw the deep indentations from Ria’s claws where she had hung from it, not to mention the way she had pierced the thick metal hatch in the back and bent it open like it was made out of paper. The truckdriver never figured out what had happened, but from what I heard he quit his job soon after that, too shook up about it to drive that route again.

In the truck among the garbage was little Emma. Apparently Ria had heard her cry out as she was running out of air, which spurred the rather impressive display of my love’s abilities.

As happy and grateful as Maddie and Richard was to have their little girl back, they didn’t forget what they had just witnessed Ria do. My beautiful wife clung to me as I held her, and I think she was scared how our friends would react to her now. Now, I liked Richard and Madelyne well enough, but if they were going to say or do anything to make Ria uncomfortable I was going to take my wife and leave without as much as a backwards glance, and I wouldn’t regret it once. But Ria would be much more sensitive to something like that, so I figured I’d at least have a chat with Richard and feel him out.

Later that evening, as the kids had gotten to bed, Maddie called us up and asked us to come over. I had decided to tell them the whole truth, all of it, and hold nothing back. And I did. The whole sordid story about that island hell, Doc, my alcoholism, Ria’s dual nature… everything. Ria didn’t say a word during all of it, instead she clung to me and refused to look at Maddie or Richard.

To their credit I must say that their reactions proved them the good, honest folk I had thought them to be before. When I finished my tale, neither of them spoke for a good long while. Richard looked shaken and serious, but I couldn’t tell with my friend if that was a good or bad sign in this occasion. It was Maddie that broke the silence when she started crying something awful and bounded over to the couch next to me and Ria, grabbing my startled wife and proceeded to hug the stuffing out of her.

I don’t know who was more surprised of my wife and I, as Maddie was hugged Ria and bawled, and Richard came up to me and pounded on my back in what I assume was an approving manner and grunted something. After Maddie, and my Ria who started to cry a bit herself, calmed down, the four of us talked long into the night about everything that had happened. It was quite an emotional evening.

The next day all three of the kids came over, bringing some gifts for my Ria. The framed children’s drawing of me and Ria, with the words “auntie Ri, our hero” on it, was my wife’s favourite and ended up on the kitchen wall. Personally I kind of liked the T-shirt Maddie had gotten Ria that had a nice glittering print of a lion’s head on the chest… my baby looked quite fetching wearing that.

Watching my Ria that day, as she played around with the kids and joked with our friends – our friends that knew the truth but accepted us anyway – made me realize something I hadn’t given much thought before.

We’ve finally escaped the island of beasts. We’re together, and we’re safe.

And we are home.



Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Mark of the Mermaid

Mermaid Saga/XWP über crossover story. Yuta, turned immortal by mermaid's flesh, wanders the world in search of the one allotted to her.
(Female Yuta/Mana)

Read Mark of the Mermaid





Disclaimer: Xena and Gabrielle are owned by RenPics and others along those lines, just in case someone was wondering if they belonged to me. The Mermaid Trilogy, of which this is inspired mostly by the part called “A Mermaid Never Smiles”, is the creation of Takahashi Rumiko, and belongs to her and a bunch of other people. Basically this is a remake of certain parts of Takahashi’s Mermaid stories combined with XWP über elements, and hopefully no-one will be insulted or upset by it.





Mark of the Mermaid
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





What do you know about mermaids?

Do you think of them as cute little redheaded princesses that are willing to give up their voices for true love, perhaps? Or even the more sad original fairytale about the little mermaiden who gave her life in a vain search for love?

Or are you one of the few that might have heard the dark legends of old… that knows that eating the flesh of a mermaid grants a human eternal life and youth?

The romantic tales are harmless, if cloying to one that knows the truth. The other… is a damnation for the greedy hearts of men.

I heard those tales myself, in my far distant youth. The flesh of the mermaid was longevity and happiness, and most of all it was salvation from famine and disease that plagued us all. I was a fisher and a hunter, when there was any game to find, in a small village that is long lost in time by now. My family was ridden with the same misfortunes as all others then, and I watched my brothers and my father all fall to them. In the end there was but me, my ailing old mother, my brother’s wife and his small son.

Today people might think it strange if they knew how little it mattered to my people that I was a woman when I fought alongside them to keep what remained of my family alive. It was, after all, so very long ago. It certainly didn’t matter when finally, in desperation, I agreed to join a few of the last moderately able-bodied men from the village in what I assumed was a wild goose chase.

We were going to catch a mermaid.

I never did find out how the knowledge of her presence came in our possession, or why she was suddenly just… there. I never bothered to ask, then, I just picked up my spear and rowed along with the other four into the dying night. It took us five days to find her. Five days that might each have cost us all that we were fighting for, but we knew this was our last desperate effort to keep at least some of our loved ones alive.

When she broke the water on the fifth night, scales glimmering like silver in the pale moonlight and her comely face too ethereal for an earthly creature, I was certain I was dreaming. It seemed like a dream, how the others threw their spears to harpoon her, and how I raised mine and let it fly alongside them.

They all hit home, and we had her body pulled from the sea in no time.

Someone else cut up the meat and divided it between us, ending me up with a smaller piece of the tail than perhaps had entirely been the agreement. I did not argue as I was grateful I would not have to cut up what to my eyes was still a woman’s body myself, but took my smaller share in silence as we travelled back to the village.

It took us another two days before we reached our home, and it was a sombre homecoming. I do not recall it rightly, but I believe that we had all lost someone during our absence. As for me, I had lost my little nephew.

The irony of it all is that it was mostly for him that I had gone. We all knew he had not long to live, just like my mother, and it was all that I could hope to do for him. I never wanted eternal life, or any of the things the myths spoke of, I was trying to save the last of my kin.

My sister-in-law blamed me for being away when her son had died, I who had been forced to take the place of the man of the family. We ate our last meal together that evening in silence, each of us lacking the desire to live anymore, but damned to eat regardless because not doing so would have been to diminish all those lost before us.

It began immediately.

My mother began coughing up blood almost as soon as we had all swallowed our small fare, and we rushed to her side in horror. With a mighty heave of her small and emaciated frame, life left her body and she went still, staring blindly into the distance. My sister-in-law began to keen, a ghastly, grating noise that would never fade in my memory afterwards, and doubled over in pain. Before my horrified eyes her body twisted and turned, buckled and bended, limbs elongating and growing, until what remained was not the small, skinny woman of mere moments before. She was now a hideous monstrosity, huge with scales, fangs and claws, twisted into a nightmare that should never have been allowed to step out of the night.

The monster then attacked me, cutting me to the bone and tearing me into a bloodied mass before I had reacted. I can recall the pain of that first death, but to this day I do not know why I was not eaten by the beast. Regardless, I woke the next day, my body hale and sound though filthy with blood, and my clothes mere rags.

I stepped out from our ramshackle hut into hell on earth. Mere words cannot describe the sight that met me on that trodden piece of mud that had been my home for all the twenty-six summers I had been under the sun, so I shall not attempt it. Let it be enough to say that of the roughly two score people that had been alive at nightfall, only a handful remained. And they were all beasts like my sister-in-law, indeed I could tell no difference between their twisted forms as they fed on the corpses of what could have been their own family members, or fought viciously with one another.

In time I would come to learn that beasts like these are called ‘lost souls’, and that they are created when an unfortunate soul tries to feed upon the flesh or blood of a mermaid but does not die from it. Only a rare few, perhaps no more than one or two in a century, are like me and can survive the dreadful poison of the mermaid flesh.

I discovered many things that day. I discovered that a lost soul is very difficult to kill, the only sure way would be to behead it, although fire can work too, and I would much later learn of a poison created by the rotting form of a mermaid that is most lethal to lost souls as well. I also learned that not only do I not die, or at least I do not stay dead for long, but all manner of wounds heal all but instantly, and I was stronger and faster than before. In fact, my senses seemed sharper as well, though I have never been able to tell if it was one of the many effects that comes with the change mermaid flesh brings.

When I left the village I had called home, I left it burning. I am the sole survivor of that tiny and long forgotten place, and not a mark on the soil remains to tell people it once existed there, indeed I nearly missed it when I came back that way a long, long time later. With me I took my spear, my dagger, a few small tools in a pouch on the rope that served as my belt, and a set of rags that while worn and tattered at least did not reek with blood.

At first I travelled aimlessly, not staying long in any place, just passing through life as a ghost. A hundred years passed unnoticed this way before I settled down in a village. When I settled down with someone.

She was a young widow that was well to do and needed not marry again to ensure her future. It was not a passionate love between us, but rather a friendship and understanding that kept us together, a need for a companion. I worked for her to the best of my abilities, and had she nothing to her name she would still have lived well, I made sure of that. I also provided her with a kind of protection against unwanted suitors, as surely no-one could say to her that she needed a man in her life when I so obviously filled that role to the fullest.

At first the people in the village held their tounges regarding our relationship out of fear and respect for me as I have always been a woman standing head-to-toe with any man, stronger than reason, and more capable at the things they did than they could claim to be. In time it was out of fear of me, period.

I didn’t realize it until my… for all of our supposed arrangements, I thought of her as my wife. And my wife looked upon me one evening with an expression in her eyes that cut me far more deeply than any weapon or claw ever had; she was afraid of me. She was growing old, and I remained as ever I had been, appearing as though I was still merely twenty-six summers old. Even though I remained with her until the night she died, I was from that moment on just a stranger, a hired help that wasn’t really trusted, in her home.

I had told her my secret, and she loathed me for it. But before she died she did look at me once with something akin to pity in her eyes, and told me that I needed to find a mermaid if ever I was to find peace. Nothing else would answer my questions, she said, and until then I would only be drifting through life as a spectator.

She spoke truer than either of us knew.

I am now roughly five hundred years old, give or take a few as individual years means so very little to me, and in this time I have seen so many things. I have seen the history of man stagger onwards before my eyes, and I have seen untold horrors that would leave people huddling together in fear of the night. I have had my heart broken so many times in so many ways… a young woman that touched my heart but that I had to leave behind, girls that laid their own hearts before my feet despite my attempts at keeping them at arms length, friends, children, places I would have loved to call my home; all gone.

Upon occasion my search for mermaids has led me to others such as myself, and those occasions have given me my greatest heartbreaks.

Like little Natsume.

She was a small girl travelling with her elderly father as he peddled his fake mermaid medicine in village after village, and I thought I had met someone like myself. She was impervious to harm, like myself, and seemed unable to age, and still naïve in regards to the nature of man, I thought she had been fed mermaid’s flesh. A crazy monk told me the truth.

Natsume had died long ago, and the monk had aided her grief-stricken father in reviving her corpse with sacred chants and the liver of a mermaid. The child rose again, but without memory or, it seemed, humanity – she preyed upon any creature she could to tear out their livers and eat them; indeed she tried to eat mine.

And yet, the small child befriended me. She wanted so desperately to understand her own existance, and saw in me a kindred spirit. Also, her father was old and ill, and she worried that she would soon be left alone in the world to fend for herself. Perhaps I was truly too naïve, but I loved that child. I offered her to come with me on my journey, and she seemed overjoyed when she accepted.

It was not to be, however. While the old man, driven mad by his fear of losing Natsume, tried to kill me, the monk found her and removed the mermaid’s liver. She ran away from him, and with her last strength, came to me.

I held her in my arms as death returned for her, turning back into bones and ash this child I had already begun to love as my own. It felt like my heart was turning into ash along with her.

Far from all that have achieved eternal life through the means of the mermaid’s flesh would be as sweet as that poor, tortured child, although it would take a long time until I fully realized how dark my world truly was.

An encounter with an old oracle once told me that what I was truly searching for was the one that had been allotted to me. Over time I would come to realize that in a way that woman was right, and I was searching for someone to share this unending life with me. But if I were to have guessed who and how I were to have found her, I would never have come anywhere near the truth.

Going on my five hundred years I was heading up into the wild mountain areas that was reputed to be devoid of human population. That served me fine, I wanted solitude at the time and had no mermaid trail to follow. Or so I thought.

In those mountains I came upon one of the strangest thing I have encountered, a village of only women, and not only that, but all the women wore the same face separated only by age. They were hostile, so hostile in fact that on the first encounter a group of the younger ones speared me to death and threw my carcass down into a cavern.

By morning I was revived and quite angry, but before I had the time to think of what to do, I saw something there. At the water’s edge where the ocean entered the cavern, lay a body. It had a woman’s torso, but the long glittering tail of a fish… at long last I had found a mermaid.

She was beheaded with a piece of her tail missing, and I did not doubt for a moment that it had something to do with those overly aggressive women, and so I went in search of them.

I found my way to their village in the nick of time, or, seen in another way, just slightly too late.

I barged in into the manor house, the largest and finest building there, despite the women trying to once again kill me with their spears and axes. Inside I stumbled right upon a couple of old hags loading a young woman onto a palanquin. I threw the remains of the mermaid at their feet and demanded they answer my questions, but I had underestimated their willingness to fight.

I ended up grabbing the girl as a hostage to make them answer me, but instead the women appeared to be trying to kill her as well. In desperation I drew her to her feet, preparing to run off and pull her along with me just through the door so I could escape. It was then I noticed that her feet were shackled.

The whole event was not one of my finer moments, but in that split second when spears where dancing around my head, I did the only thing I could have and lived with myself; I hoisted her up on my shoulder and ran off into the woods taking her with me.

We ended up in another cave, hiding out while I used a spear I’d filched to smash open her wooden shackles. She told me her name was Mana, and that she had worn those shackles all her life. Apparently the women in the village treated Mana as if though she was a princess, although at the same time she was very much their captive.

It wasn’t until I wiped the blood away from her wounds to find them completely healed that I realized that she had been fed mermaid’s flesh.

I tore the edges of her fine robes into rags I used to bandage the awful wounds on her legs, and I was shocked to find that even in that situation I noticed what a rare beauty she was, this Mana. Small and shapely, with full lips and huge spring-green eyes, long red-blonde hair and unblemished skin that looked like porcelain; she looked like what I might have considered perfection to be had I given it thought. I remember I shook my head to clear it, bemused with why my reaction to this beauty was so strong. I had after all met many an attractive woman in my day, and none of them had pulled me in this quickly or this completely.

I asked her about the mermaid, but she knew nothing about it. We figured out that the old hags had fed Mana the mermaid flesh the evening before, on what was supposed to be Mana’s seventeenth birthday, but for what purpose we had no idea. As we spoke over the dressing of wounds, I could suddenly hear a very familiar moaning coming out of the cave behind us.

The monstrosity that towered up behind us as we turned around could as easily have come from my home village all those years ago, for it’s appearance was almost identical. Mana gasped out the name that I would from then on use for these creatures, calling it a lost soul, while I charged it with the spear I had taken.

As I charged it, it also charged me, and the spear in my hands embedded itself in discoloured, twisted scaly flesh somewhere around the shoulder. Another creature would have died, but not a lost soul, and instead it impaled me on its large claws and flung me across the cave. Instinct would have had me close my eyes at the impact with the rockface, but Mana’s scream and the roar of the lost soul spurred me back on my feet instantly. I no longer had a weapon, but I still charged it to keep it away from her.

Mana’s scream had alerted one of the village women out searching for us, and while I did my best to grapple with the huge beast she jumped down into the cavern to us. Armed with spears dipped in poison she lunged at the lost soul, scoring a solid hit in it’s side, but not one that would otherwise have been lethal. It roared and flung me away again, then turned and slashed its giant claws over the woman’s throat.

Mana screamed the woman’s name, and I got my feet back under me to charge again, but the wounded village woman called me back. The creature shuffled back into the darkness and fled from us, it’s pitiful moaning echoing in the distance as apparently even the relatively minor wound caused by the poisoned spear would be enough to kill it quickly. The woman fainted from her severe wounds, and I felt obliged to return the favor of rescue even though she had been sent out to kill me. I told Mana to stay while I carried the unconscious woman out of the cave, then I would come and lift her out as well.

Mana disagreed, stating that she wanted to walk. I was certain she would not be able to stand, much less walk, after all she had never been allowed to stand in her life, but I had not taken in account the strength of Mana’s will. I would learn over time that Mana’s will is quite formidable.

Was it a trick of light that made the air seem to glow around her as she stubbornly pulled herself to her feet? Either way she stole my breath away with the simple act of standing unsteadily on her own two feet while the light seemed to turn her hair ablaze. I stopped and stared like a fool.

Then she fell.

For all her formidable will, her legs would not hold her for long, at least not at first. It would take time and practice before she learned to walk and run, but when she did she was even faster than I. At the moment though, I hoisted the unconscious woman over my shoulders and lifted Mana into my arms, and carried them both out of the cave. I placed Mana in as safe a location as I could find and swore to come back for her later, then set off towards the village trying not to smile at Mana’s cute pout as she stubbornly muttered to herself about not wanting to be left behind.

I stopped the villagers from attacking me when I reached the village by telling them that if I was killed, they would never find out where their precious princess Mana was hidden. A group of women that all wore exactly the same face as the bloodied one of my burden came forward and took her from my arms. The only face I could see that was not duplicated was that of the eldest hag, she who appeared to be their leader. She invited me to sit and speak with her, and that was after all what I had wanted all along. I wasn’t foolish enough to let down my guard though.

We spoke of mermaids, and of mermaids flesh. We spoke of the curse of immortality, and eventually I proved that I had eaten it by cutting my arm open, then letting her watch as it quickly healed before our very eyes. I didn’t realize the danger I had just put myself in.

I also did not know that while I had been away, Mana had stubbornly continued her attempts to stand. After a few most likely rather undignified tumbles she finally managed to stand upright and, with the help of trees and rocks along the way, walk towards the village.

The villagers intercepted her.

The old hag and I were interrupted by a ruckus from outside, and when I heard Mana’s angry voice shouting I rushed to the doors. She was caught and bound, and frankly put, spitting mad about it. I shouted as well, demanding she be released, and was about to step out to her aid when my words turned to blood in my mouth.

One of the old women had crept up behind me while I was distracted, and rammed a steel harpoon through my chest.

While I stood there, swaying on my feet and grabbing the part of the harpoon that stuck out through my chest as my blood poured out of me, the old hag spoke quite calmly to me. Perhaps even slightly regretfully, although I really couldn’t have cared less.

She told me that I had been mistaken. A mermaid would not be able to help me come to terms with my nature, would not give me my mortal life back. Indeed the only thing a mermaid had to offer me was death, true death to end an immortal life, by way of the mermaid poison that also served to kill the lost souls. She also informed me that the weapon sticking out of my chest had been dipped in that poison, and that I would most likely die soon.

Did she expect me to nod and sit back down like a good little girl? With Mana yelling at the top of her lungs? Not hardly. I grabbed the door and tore it of it’s hinges, roaring furiously as I did so, and slammed it into the women holding Mana.

I caught Mana on the door before she fell to the ground - a rather nimble feat all things considered – grabbed her, and dashed back into the building. I snapped her bonds on the edge of the weapon sticking out of my chest, and managed to grab a large container of something that smelled oily just as the women clambered to get through the doorway. I doused them all and Mana threw the torch on them, and they, as well as most of the building, immediately caught on fire.

In the panic and confusion that followed I grabbed Mana and carried her under my arm as I made a run for it towards the woods. No-one pursued us… they didn’t need to.

I made it some distance into the woods before I couldn’t carry Mana any more, in fact I could barely keep myself conscious. Mana dragged me the last bit to a hole in the ground that proved to be yet another of those endless caverns that traced through the hills there. We got inside a ways before I felt it would be safe enough for me to pull the harpoon out.

It was… unpleasant. I placed the back end of the weapon against the rock wall, and had to ask Mana to help push me back all along it’s length until it could be pulled out of me. I bit down on a piece of her robes, not that she had much of them left by now, and she looked very determined.

Then I asked her to suck the poison out.

I am fortunate that under that surface of refined sweetness she has a core of solid steel, because how else could she have bent down to that gaping mess of my chest and sucked the poison out. I am sure I would have succumbed to it had she not helped me like she did.

I passed out from the pain, but not until I saw her serious face light up slightly in a tiny relieved smile when she saw that I was still alive. I do not know how long I was out, but Mana has told me that while I was unconscious she sat watching over me in the dark of the cave. Eventually she heard the moaning of a lost soul heading our way, and as the completely fearless being that she is, she picked up the bloody harpoon and prepared to protect me.

She cut it deeply over it’s belly, and it slashed open her cheek. It also threw her right into my arms, which is what woke me up. We both heard the rumbling just before the water hit.

The reason the village women had not pursued us into the caves was that they had another plan; they were going to flush us out. Apparently the caves that riddled those hills were all connected and ended up in the sea, which was why the lost souls wandered so freely through them all, and the villagers had long ago built a dam to keep the village from being flooded. Now they released the dam, sacrificing their village in their pursuit of us, and placed themselves at the exits where the water would come rushing out.

I clung to Mana, and she to me, and I was certain I was going to drown yet again. I had experienced that kind of death once before, and knew it was not pleasant. But then again, dying without the benefit of death never is.

Mana was no longer conscious when the water carried us out to the ocean’s edge where the village women awaited us. So she did not share the view I had as I suddenly saw them all transformed by the water into their true forms… as mermaids.

A mermaid that is not hungry or on the hunt is a beautiful creature, so beautiful in fact that it lures it’s prey right into it’s arms – it’s prey being humans – before it’s true face is revealed. A mermaid on the hunt however is hideous, every bit as hideous as a lost soul because the beauty that was there mere moments before is instantly elongated and twisted into that horrendous fanged creature. It is even more frightening because it is only the head that changes, the rest of the mermaid remains it’s beautiful, graceful self, sending a jarring feeling of… wrongness into your soul.

They opened their huge, hungry maws to attack, and swam right up to us. One whitehaired beast bit deeply into Mana’s arm, taking a chunk out before I could tear it away. As I fumbled with the harpoon that Mana had not lost during our turbulent ride, I saw the creature’s face turn into a duplicate of Mana’s as it swallowed the piece of her, it’s hair turning black and it’s body becoming younger.

The veiled words of the old hag suddenly became all to clear… the village women had raised Mana for the purpose of eating her once she was old enough, and if she survived eating the mermaid’s flesh. Apparently it was the reason they had all worn the same face, as they took on the appearance of their victim.

I speared the creature wearing Mana’s face repeatedly, until I managed to tear of it’s head. Then I managed to get us both to the surface, my lungs burning from lacking air for far too long. I was in luck, and we had not come far from the rocky edge of the cliffs, so I pulled us both up and prepared for the attack.

And they came.

One by one in an endless row, throwing themselves out of the water at me. The harpoon in my hands was used to the outmost of my ability, and they were thrown back into the churning water. Until the last one.

I lost the grip on the harpoon, or rather I had to let it go as I needed to use both hands and all my strength to keep the mermaid from eating me. Thus occupied I didn’t see the old hag walking up to Mana were she lay, still unconscious. I didn’t see her as she lifted Mana and held a spear to her chest, intending to run her through. I didn’t see Mana wake and struggle with her, or hear the old hag tell Mana that she must be eaten.

I did, however, see them when the old hag had the spear cutting into Mana’s throat, and my struggles with the mermaid increased. I’m sure I shouted some profanities or threats at the hag as well. I had after all just found Mana, and was far from willing to have her taken from me so soon.

Just as I chopped the head off the mermaid I was fighting, Mana roared angrily at the hag and tossed her nearly all the way to the water’s edge. She yelled that she wasn’t going to let someone kill her, she was going to live, damnit!

Did I mention that Mana has a quite a temper sometimes?

I was back on my feet and with the harpoon in my hand, so I stepped in front of Mana just in case the old hag decided to try her luck. She wouldn’t take one step before I had her skewered, and I’m sure she knew it. She sat, unmoving and silent for a long while. All that could be heard was the splashing and panting moans of the mermaid beasts right behind her at the water’s edge, driven mad by hunger but unable to come to us now that the water was no longer churning so wildly.

The old hag sighed, then told me that it was too late anyway. The mermaids had reverted too far, even if they ate us they would no longer be able to return to human form. I asked her why she had not tried to eat Mana herself when she had the chance, after all, the ones that attacked me in the water had tried to get a chunk out of either of us any way they could.

To my surprise the old wretch told us that she was not a mermaid, but a human turned immortal by eating mermaid’s flesh, just like Mana and myself.

If it had shocked me, the rest she told us shocked me more; she had lived in that village for a very long time, since it was the only place she thought someone like her could live. Every once in a while they had stolen a female infant from the villages surrounding their wild expanse, and raised them until they were old enough to be eaten. Only a rare few survived eating the mermaid’s flesh, and the ones that turned into lost souls were brought to the caves and left there, as a new child was taken. Because mermaids need to feed upon the flesh of an immortal human to remain able to take human form and retain their youth. She had aided in all this horror, even though it had tortured her soul beyond repair.

And now that the mermaids were once again bound to the sea, she would remain there, alone, to watch over them. Until the end of time.

I took Mana with me and left that wretched place, indeed I don’t know if I would have been able to let her go if she had wanted me to. But it didn’t matter, she would have insisted I take her with me had I decided not to. And given her nature and my curious inability to truly tell her no, she would have gotten her way.

Through her eyes I am learning to see the world anew. I never noticed all the marvel of it before, but when she turns that wide-eyed green gaze my way and asks questions in wonder over something, I can’t help but share it with her. I feel curiously young and hopeful again.

The one allotted to me.

She is young, so very young… I won’t pressure her with any of my burgeoning feelings towards her, or the longing sprung from an immortal life in solitude. I’ll just be her guide, her guardian and her protector as she discovers herself and the world, and we’ll see what happens. Perhaps one day, when she is ready…

Suddenly the thought of seeing how long you can live before getting completely sick of it doesn’t seem like such a bad thing anymore.

Not a bad thing at all.

Monday, July 23, 2007

Star Turtle Voyager

A Dash&Kiri/Star Trek Voyager crossover

Read Star Turtle Voyager



Disclaimer: This is a Dash&Kiri/Voyager crossover thing. All things Star Trek belong to a whole bunch of people, you probably know exactly who far better than I do, while Dash and Kiri belong to me and originates from the stories “Ignorance is Bliss” and “It’s A Turtle Life”.

If the thought of a pair of lesbian turtles does not appeal to you, then I suggest you give this a miss.




Star Turtle Voyager
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson


Far away in the Deltoid Quadrant there was a lost spaceship by the name of Voyager, trudging along on it’s way home, stopping only once in a while when something more interesting crossed it’s path. Aboard that starship there was a very special, very energetic green little turtle that had fluorescent green spots on her head, and tiny forehead ridges. Her name was Dash.

Dash was rather happy aboard Voyager. It was a fun place, with lots to do, and even quite a few friends, plus she got to fight something or somethings rather frequently, and Dash rather liked that. See, Dash was originally a freedom-fighter turtle, a member of the fearless Toquis that fought for the freedom of turtles everywhere.

Then Dash had ended up onboard Voyager in the Deltoid Quadrant, quite by mistake, and all the Toquis turtles and the StarTurtleFleet turtles had to get along and work together. Which was just fine with Dash, as long as there were no males onboard. Oh no, while freedom for all turtles was all well and good, Dash simply could not tolerate any males in her vicinity, and that was that. Luckily for the crew of Voyager, the Captain, a feisty red and black turtle named Kate that Dash really liked because she reminded Dash of her own hatcher, had assured Dash that there were no males aboard the ship.

Dash hadn’t been convinced at first, in fact she had thought that there were quite a lot of males aboard Voyager, one of them the pale yellow turtle Vork, who had tried to mate with her. Dash had beaten Vork quite a bit, thinking Vork was a boy, something Dash felt really bad about afterwards, when Captain Kate explained that quite a few of the turtles onboard Voyager had gotten confused when they had been transported to the Deltoid Quadrant, and ever since that day thought they were males. In fact, the only males onboard the ship was the wooden turtle Chuckles, that Kate used to toss around when she hadn’t had a good fight in a while, and the Deltoid turtle Niilex, a colourful and friendly fellow with strange spots all over, that Dash wasn’t altogether sure just what he was supposed to be, so she didn’t beat him up anyway.

That some of the turtles onboard had gotten confused an thought they were boys was one thing, Dash felt very sorry for them and tried not to let them do things that were very difficult or strenuous, but why the Emergency Turtle Holodoc also thought it was a male was beyond her. Kate, chewing her beloved coffeebeans, had looked at Dash briefly and told her it was a glitch in the ETH programming, then she hefted her newest big and shiny gun and asked Dash if she thought there was any chance they’d be boarded by hostile aliens anytime soon. Dash really liked Captain Kate, they thought alike.

Kate liked Dash as well, and she had decided that since Dash was a smart turtle, Dash would be in charge of one of the most important parts of the ship: Engineering. Engineering was Dash’s favourite place on Voyager, it had several levels with lots of railings and elevators and other fun things she could jump between or slide down, and lots of pretty lights. Her favourite part of all, though, was the core. Why, every morning when Dash went to start her daily duties as the Chief of Engineering, she’d start running from the turbolift doors, then hurl herself down on her shell right inside the doors to Engineering, and let her speed slam her against the side of the core and bounce her back towards the doors. One of these days Dash was determined she’d get enough speed and bounce in to be hurled right back out through those doors.

Dash never quite did understand why all the other turtles that worked in Engineering huddled along the walls or hid underneath their consoles. Nor could she really understand why so many of them were afraid of her, she had only beaten Vork up once... and then Bum Parasite of course, the annoying helm turtle that kept flirting with her... and then there was all the alien turtles, like the Whihiians or the Zerogen, but really, they had been male, and besides, Kate had told her to. Dash felt she was a peace-loving turtle at heart, she was just misunderstood.

Then after travelling in the Deltoid Quadrant for some time, the turtles aboard Voyager met the feared Tortoise Borg, with their armoured shells and metal implants, travelling in giant square spaceships and assimilating anyone they encountered. Voyager fought against the Tortoise Borg, and eventually Captain Kate managed to trick the Tortoise Queen – whom Dash was quite sure was a male despite the name – allowing Voyager to run away from them. Of course, to do that Kate had sort of accidentally stolen the Tortoise Queen’s favorite Drone, K of Ri.

Dash had been working in Engineering, hardly flipping between the railings at all in all the hurry, when Captain Kate had brought K of Ri, or Kiri as they started to call her, to help them work. And Dash had been mesmerized.

Oh! Oh, oh, oh, oh! Dash had yelped, looking at the prettiest little turtle she had ever seen. Then of course Dash lost her footing, being far to busy staring at the pretty red turtle to mind where her flippers were going on the railing, and fell... right onto Kiri, pummelling her to the floor. Captain Kate and the security turtles had pulled Dash away, and Dash had been too dazed after being that close to the pretty newcomer to protest when they said that Dash had gotten angry and attacked Kiri. Then Kiri was taken away to work, and Dash was kept there, staring longingly after the pretty red.

Dash couldn’t concentrate on her work anymore, all she could think about was that pretty little red turtle with the shiny metal implant over one eye... so she tried to track her down. Of course, when Dash caught up with the newcomer she was just turning the corner at a high speed, and forgot to stop or steer when she saw the pretty again. And so Dash ended up flattening Kiri on the floor of the hallway.

Kate lectured Dash before Dash had a chance to explain herself, and took Kiri away to see the ETH. Dash moped, pouting mightily as she drew little imaginary hearts on the floor with her front flippers.

By the time Kiri was released from Sicknest, most of her metallic things had been removed, and all of her shell armour. Now all the silvery things that were visible was the arch above her eye, the webbing on the tip of one of her front flippers, and a little starburst on her cheek. Dash swooned as she saw Kiri walk out of Sicknest together with Kate and some security turtles, but they didn’t notice her leaning on the wall behind them.

After that Dash was a turtle on a mission. She had to see the pretty red, and more, she had to make a good impression so that the pretty red would like her! But how... Dash worried about how she should go about that.

It was quite by accident that Dash found out that Kiri was given a Tortoise Borg nesting in one of the Cargo Bays, and grabbing onto her courage with both front flippers, Dash brought a flower and raced over to the Cargo Bay where Kiri was supposed to be.

Inside Dash found Kiri resting in her metal nest, all lit up and displayed like treasure, and Dash’s little heart pounded wildly in her chest at the sight. Kiri was so pretty, such a pretty red, with that silvery arch that Dash just wanted to nuzzle... or maybe nip a little. She was small, smaller than Dash, but oh, the curves of her shell... the lovely colouring... the graceful shape of her flippers... the tiny starburst on her cheek. Dash really just wanted to rush up to her and nuzzle Kiri until she woke up, or the metal nesting fell apart, whichever came first.

Shifting her grip on the flower a little, Dash started towards the nest.

Then To’Owie from security stepped out from behind a corner, telling Dash she had to go away from there. Dash protested, trying to tell To’Owie that she had to wake the pretty red up so she could tell her that she, Dash, was the turtle for her, but To’Owie didn’t listen. Instead other security turtles came, and they all dragged Dash away.

Pretty! Pretty! My pretty! Dash wailed, but to no avail, the security turtles pulled Dash by the flippers far away from the Cargo Bay and told her to stay away. Now Dash could have thumped them all, but she did still feel sorry for them for thinking they were male, and Kate might be cross with her if she did. So Dash went to her own nest, complaining about the unfairness of things, then like the good and optimistic turtle she was, began to make plans for how to meet up with her pretty Kiri.

In the days that followed, Kiri was given her own place to work, a place made especially for her since everyone thought Dash had attacked her when Kiri was supposed to work in Engineering. Dash knew that Kiri was the only one smart enough to work in Astroaquametrics, so she would be alone there, which made it the perfect place for Dash to introduce herself without being interrupted. So Dash polished her shell until it shone, screwed up her courage, and set out for Astroaquametrics.

Dash bounced down the hallway to the doors of Astroaquametrics. She was going to see the pretty red at last! She brushed a speck of dust from her shiny shell, checked her flippers so she hadn’t gotten any dirt on them, drew herself up inside her shell so that she’d look bigger than she really was, and, with a wagging tail, swaggered into Astroaquametrics.

The sight of Kiri raising her silvery implant at her made Dash feel rather shaky in her flippers, but what made her fall down in her shell with a dull thunk was the fact that Kiri wasn’t alone in Astroaquametrics. No, the black and yellow turtle Verry Dim was already there, and standing much too close to Dash’s pretty Kiri. Much too close.

Her little turtle heart falling to the floor and breaking in many tiny bits, Dash turned and shuffled out of the room, head slumping and tail hanging downheartedly. With her little turtle lip trembling, Dash shuffled herself all the way over to the Foodbowl hall, where she sat herself in the darkest corner she could find, and sadly flung little forgotten pieces of someone’s dinner across the floor.

She sat there for some time, until she happened to hear Verry Dim speaking to Bum Parasite as they entered the Foodbowl hall. Verry Dim was depressed because he – yes, Verry Dim was another of those poor, misguided turtles that thought themselves male – had tried to approach Kiri and make her interested in him, but she had told him that he was not what she was looking for. Dash perked up.

Suddenly hopeful again, Dash bounded over to her friend, Niilex, to beg him for some advice. After all, Niilex had dated Dash’s friend Kissy, the other space turtle from the Deltoid Quadrant, for quite a while even though Niilex was rather funny-looking and... male. Of course, Captain Kate had inadvertently stolen Kissy away with her debonair attitude and trigger-happy bravery, but still, Dash figured Niilex had to know lots of secrets in the way to win a turtle’s heart.

A while later, Dash bounded eagerly towards the Cargo Bay where Kiri was supposed to be, carrying a huge slice of carrot, since Niilex had assured her that the way to win a lady turtle’s heart was to romance her with food. So Dash would be romantic, and she would feed Kiri. Simple.

In the hallway outside the Cargo Bay, Dash was surprised to find Chuckles, the wooden turtle. She had thought Chuckles was supposed to be on the Bridgy, where Captain Kate could kick him around when she felt frustrated for not having fought someone all day, and wondered why anyone had dragged him down there. Perhaps Kate had decided to put Chuckles in storage at long last, after all, he was missing quite a few bits by now.

This time when Dash entered the Cargo Bay, Kiri was awake, standing in her metal nest while working on something there. Suddenly feeling very faint, Dash swaggered up to the nest and held out her piece of carrot in offering.

Kiri looked at her and then at the carrot slice, her silvery implant rising slightly in question, making Dash’s flippers shake just a little as she saw it. Dash really wanted to pull herself up to look bigger, and tell Kiri that she was Dash, the turtle meant for Kiri, but she was after all carrying a rather large slice of carrot, so she couldn’t.

Kiri stepped down from her nest and very gingerly took the slice away from the silently crowing Dash. Yesyesyesyes! Kiri nibbled on the slice ever so slightly, then put it down and quite calmly moved closer to Dash, and nuzzled her head.

Dash’s little eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted.

Kiri seemed quite amused when Dash woke up a little while later, looked at Kiri once with wide, astonished eyes, then set of running, bouncing and flipping through the Cargo Bay at an amazing speed, going WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Finally Kiri reached out and put a stop to Dash’s spinning around, because although Dash was incredibly cute doing it, Kiri had something else in mind for them now that they were finally alone. Dash strutted over to Kiri confidently, her little tail wagging furiously as Kiri moved in to nuzzle Dash some more. Dash sighed happily.

Then Kiri asked Dash if she knew how to lock the doors to the Cargo Bay, because Kiri wanted them to be alone and undisturbed. Dash was quite ready to nail the doors shut if she had to, but she managed to lock them the usual way first. Then she turned and bounced happily back over to Kiri.

Kiri smiled mysteriously and led Dash by the flipper up to her metal nest. Dash felt a little shy suddenly, but Kiri nuzzled her until all such thoughts had gone far, far away... and Kiri was the only turtle anywhere for Dash.



Late the following day, a rather miffed Captain Kate finally found her Chuckles, and wondered who had been the smarty-pants that had stolen her favourite victim and propped him up against the doors of the Cargo Bay. In fact, whoever had done it had scratched the doors a bit with his front flippers, making it look as if he had been trying to get in, and Kate wasn’t all that amused.

Kate was just about to drag Chuckles off for another round of Captain of Pain, when she heard something from inside the Cargo Bay. The doors didn’t open when she tried them, so Kate leaned in to listen... after a moment she straightened and looked a bit surprised, then grinned. As she dragged Chuckles, who strangely enough almost seemed to be trying to resist, off for the Bridgy, she wondered if perhaps she would go and pay Kissy a little visit instead...