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Chapter 22: Fish
🕑 Added 2022-12-20 04:55:03 +0000 UTC“How’s the first day been?” Lambert asked, scooting further into the rounded corner booth.
Dan set his mug of coffee down before taking the now vacant seat. He looked to the others at the table, trying, and failing, to recall their names. He had been introduced to them at the start of the day but then they had separated rather early on for training.
“It's been good,” Dan finally said. “My feet and back hurt but otherwise,” he ended with a shrug.
A slightly bloated hand slapped against his back. Lambert laughed. “Get used to it. In a few weeks we’ll have you doing the big jobs. Don’t take your training shifts for granted, they will be the easiest until you make manager like me.”
Dan returned the man’s smile and made small talk with the others. After relearning everyone’s names, the conversation headed towards hobbies, relationships, and schooling. The table was somewhat surprised to find that Dan was much younger than he seemed, or rather, what the position usually required.
“First job out of college? What are you, twenty four?” Timone asked, his eyebrows hinting at his annoyance.
“Twenty three, but yeah,” Dan corrected. “One of my professors knew someone who knew someone, blah, blah, blah. Ended up writing me a great letter of recommendation.”
Timone shook his head. “That’s nepotism or something. It took me four years of working on the mainland to get an offer here, and you do it out of college?”
Theo rolled his eyes. “It's not nepotism, it's networking. Something you obviously failed at. That’s what college is really for. Anyone could learn what we do on the job.”
Lambert ruefully smiled into his coffee. “It's true, but don’t let anyone in the offices hear you say that. With the way oil prices are dropping, we might get replaced by someone cheaper. No experience, references, or schooling.”
That shut the table up. “Ah, peace and quiet,” Lambert relished, leaning back.
Theo smirked. “Typical.” He turned to Dan. “Do you fish?”
“Fish? Can we do that off the rig?” his question was received with an eyeroll.
“Not technically, but the worst they’ll do is tell us to quit it.”
Dan looked to Lambert who nodded. “Go for it. Not much to do, and I won’t sell you out… In fact, I’ll join you. I might have a bottle of rum around my cabin as well.”
“Rum?” Timon incredulously asked. “You can’t be serious.”
Lambert looked heartbroken. “Whaaaat? It's Dan’s first day. A little celebration is warranted, right?”
Dan smiled to himself, sipping his still warm coffee. He thought he’d like it here.
Fishing off the rig was much less impressive than he initially thought it would be. In his mind, Dan thought they would be casting a line from the main stage floor in between the jungle of steel and pipe that ran along the rig’s infrastructure. But no, there was a much lower and smaller platform that was only a few dozen feet from the ocean’s surface.
Still, it was deep waters. The catch was all the better.
“This beauty cost me an arm and a leg a few years ago,” Theo explained, showing off his well worn workhorse of a pole. “Now? They are on clearance at any average tackle shop.”
Dan eyed his borrowed pole. “What about this one?”
Theo shrugged. “Eh, I don’t remember. Maybe three hundred new? Rather cheap.”
“Cheap? That’s a half-a-month’s rent!”
“Shhh! You’ll scare the fishies away.” Theo gave a wink. “Watch this.”
The older electrician flipped on a high power flood light. It was pointed at an emergency ladder, but the man unscrewed a nut and pointed it to the area where they had cast their lines. Soon dark shadows moved through the murky water. Some came by quickly, others were more curious.
“The light draws them,” Theo explained. “I found that casting first generally works out better. Doesn’t scare them as much.”
Dan’s smile was large and unchecked. “Catch and release?”
“For the most part. Sometimes I bring a cooler here and stock up just before the shift ends. Helicopter pilots don’t like it though.” In a mocking tone, Theo added, “‘You’ll stink up the entire cabin!’”
Heavy steps along the metal, anti-slick staircase caused both men to turn. Lambert hobbled slowly down to the lowest platform, clutching the safety railing the entire way.
“I don’t like heights,” the manager explained, removing a half empty bottle from his under arm. “No Timon?”
Theo shrugged. “You know how he gets.”
Lambert fluttered his dreary eyes and nodded. “Pass your mugs over.”
A moment later Dan was sipping old coffee and cheap rum. His throat puckered and he forced it down. “This is terrible.”
Both Theo and Lambert laughed. “Classic,” one of them said.
“Truly,” the other replied.
“This isn’t rum, is it?” Dan asked, having known he should have expected something. Haze the newbie was always a crowd favorite.
“It is, it is.” Theo took a large gulp to prove his point. “It's just nasty. Lambert here found the brand a few years ago. At this point, I think he enjoys it.”
“Hey!” Lambert chided. “You can’t beat two bottles for nine dollars. You just can’t.”
Dan smiled, a sound from the water pulling his attention. In the spotlight, a shadow larger than him broke the relatively calm surface. It thrashed about before dipping back to the depths.
“Ah, lines out. Don’t want to hook a dolphin,” Theo said with a huff.
“Wow, I’ve never seen a dolphin this close.”
Lambert spoke up, “They like to hunt around here this time of year. Always fish around the rig.”
Sipping his drink, Dan watched a dolphin resurface, this time with a fish in its maw.
________________________________________
Dan felt like a fish.
Walking toward Golden Robes pulled at his soul, his very essence. His heartbeat drowned away the sound of labored breaths. His feet felt magnetic, sticking to the ground rather than rising out of the devilish blood grass. He did not want to move, but the fear of disobeying recycled thoughts of running away into something new and safer.
It was best to act as though nothing was wrong, right? Dan tucked his chin, letting his body carry him through the camp. Golden Robes reoriented his posture, sticking his arms together through the sleeves of his laced robes.
He’s not readying for battle, Dan thought, realizing he was being ridiculous.
Golden Robes had no clue he or Sully suspected anything was amiss. The jump from seeing madness to being solely a human trait was large at best. There were plenty of things they did not consider, right? They could be wrong to the point it was laughable, right?
Not like it matters anyways, Dan whispered to himself. Even if we both are human, nothing changes. I am still a slave, he is still my master. Who am I going to turn him into? The police?
The thought only reminded Dan how alone he was. There were no emergency services, no law and order, no one protecting him. His fight and subsequent killing of Jokaad followed by the guards nearly completely ignoring the situation, left him in a brutal head space. He was a slave, nothing more.
“Yes?” Dan asked, keeping his eyes low and off to the side.
Golden Robes peered at him through his shrouded cowl, shadows darkening any texture or feature. “I've heard the report. You have killed.”
Dan paused at the statement. While true, he didn’t expect to be accosted for his crime, at least not at this point. If he was in trouble for killing the mad man, then why would the guards not arrest him or a cultist find him in his cell? The camp obviously knew about the incident earlier in the day, could the cultist be that ignorant?
“Yes, Jokaad,” he answered despite no question being asked.
Golden Robes inched closer, inspecting Dan like a cow being auctioned. The cultist circled him a few times, drawing a sweat and troubled blinks from the human in return. Movement below drew his attention, his prime robes dipping in amazement.
Kneeling, Golden Robes watched with fascination. A wave consisting of hundreds of tendrils of madness washed through the area toward Dan’s feet and legs. They combined and grew, spiraling around his body like a vine around a trunk. They embedded themselves into Dan where they could, taking up as much real estate as possible.
Golden Robes hummed at the oddity and reached out to touch the mass of madness. His posture sagged, his bones weakened, he grew in age, and lost mental capacity. Visions and horrors plagued his mind, images that would break nations, divided and conquered each avenue of his brain, sundering every pure and gentle thought. Anger and hatred molted his previous form, renewing his life into-
He ripped his hand back, falling to his but in the process.
Dan watched the cultist huff and shiver, reducing his size to that of a child’s as he pulled all four of his limbs to his chest. Kill him, the madness screeched. He was defenseless, Dan had to agree. He could take advantage and-
Pushing down the madness took tremendous effort, Dan finding the wave of tendrils being closer to physical than before. They gripped him like tar or honey. They pulled at his skin, creating extra distance from his muscle and bone. They fought for control, actively protecting each other as his core phased over them with murderous intent.
The tendrils withered away as Golden Robes spoke, “ H-how long?”
Dan frowned. “What?”
“How long was I gone? How many years?”
“What? Gone?”
The cultist snapped, finding his feet and pushing a gloved hand at his property. “How long was I gone?”
The question came out more as an order, one which Dan answered in haste. “Y-you never left! You never left…”
Golden Robes pulled away, looking off into the camp. His posture and strength came back at that moment. Light appeared under his cowl, two orbs of glimmering golden light. They pulsed once, directly at Dan.
Dan crumbled to the floor, blood gushing from every hole on his head. All sound was consumed, all tastes and smells were replaced with iron. He saw red even when he closed his eyes. But the pain was the worst of it. His brain cried with crimson tears, pleas of help and mercy died along with every conscious thought.
Something gripped his shoulder, keeping his head up and letting blood drain from his eyes and nose. Warmth invaded his chest first, like a blanket in the dead of winter. It radiated its present, drifting through his body in all directions. His stomach felt full, his lungs drew breath again. His head stopped spinning the moment he could wiggle his toes, the moment after his sight came back.
Blinking away the blood, Dan could see golden yellow and sparkles. Thoughts came back, along with the ability to reason. With the pain mostly gone, he pulled at his core pleading with it to help him. The spell came to life exactly as he had practiced countless times at this point. A ring of gold formed below him from a ball of light. It burst into a pillar, returning his body to that of seconds before.
“I had to make sure,” Golden Robes said, helping Dan to his feet. “I had to.”
Dan tried not to think of the pain, “What was that?”
“A spell, a blast of magic straight into your brain. Unfocused, but it doesn’t need to be.”
“Did I do something?” he choked out, stepping back from his captor.
“No, I confirmed what I needed. You have no mind shield,” Golden Robes said dismissively. “But that does raise the question of how you are able to withstand the threads if I could not, even with a shield?”
Dan cowered away as the cultist stepped forward. Not having an answer but wanting to say something, he spoke, “I don’t mind them that much.”
“Y-you don’t mind? That was torturous!”
“I’ve been tortured before.”
“As have I! As have I…”
Dan shoved away the growing madness again, keeping his core and mind safe from the harmful influence. It took effort each time, but he felt the task worth it. One question replayed in his mind, one that he asked despite the circumstances.
“Why are we the only two who can see them?”
The question hung in the air as both men regarded each other, although their posture and anxiety differed greatly. Through the shadows of the cultist’s darkened cowl, a slight hum echoed despite the quiet attitude. The hum turned into words after a long minute.
“You know why you can, I do not know. For me, however, it is because I am copying you.”
Dan stammered a half step. “Copying me?”
Slowly, like a snail crossing a desert, Golden Robes reached to his hood and pulled it back. The man facing Dan looked human, if a person was made of clear gel and molten glass. There were no odd bevels of muscle or skin, no ethereal appendages, or even ghastly facial expressions. In fact, Dan saw himself in the creature.
Like a calm pond’s reflection.
Dan fell back, looking at a clear version of himself. He saw his button nose, his tired eyes, his flared eyes. He saw the same set of lips as when he looked through a mirror. He saw himself.
“I copy other’s abilities, repressed or otherwise. The madness sight is new, however. Ever since you returned from the Void, in fact.”
Dan hardly felt the effects of the cultist’s words, only that he was being copied. Did that mean-
“I, at first, thought it was the seal the high priest set into you. But I can still use your light, so evidently it’s a natural evolution.”
Dan’s breath hitched, “Is… is the sight the only thing new?”
“You have gotten stronger. Skin, bone, muscle. But that is expected with evolution,” Golden Robes answered robotically and started to mutter about disturbing things.
Dan sought to slip away, inching further and further from the thoughtful cultist. A comment stopped him dead.
“I would dissect your brain, but the high priest wants you alive. A shame.” Golden Robes turned, locking eyes with him despite pulling his hood back on. “A shame, a real shame. Fine then, we will experiment together. Every morning, when you wake up, find me. I shall prepare a set of exercises.”
The cultist didn’t wait for an answer and sauntered away, his arms wrapped within his sleeves.
With his mouth agape, Dan rocked back and forth. The waves of madness had slowed, reverting back into their unending, but slow, advance. The tendrils stuck to him even as he walked back to his cell. He tried to ignore the implications of being a cultist’s test subject and rather focused on the coils of rope he carried.
After taking some preliminary measurements, Dan found himself standing in front of the crippled Sully.
“Golden Robes is not human. He’s a copier? He copied me, turned his body into a watery version of mine,” Dan stated.
Sully grunted. “Ah, a mimic. Very rare. How interesting.”
“Yeah, interesting. To the point where I now have to assist him in experimentation.”
“Experimentation? In what?”
Dan laid out the rope, moving and folding certain lengths into different spots while making knots in others. He heaved the cauldron into the center before wrapping and tying the rope tightly against the dark metal.
“Golden Robes touched the madness that surrounded me. He almost fell apart.”
Sully went thoughtful for a moment. “What about the madness around him? Why not start there?”
Dan shook his head. “There was none, a shield I presume. That was the first thing he tested me for after regaining his sanity.”
“Tested how?”
“A spell that blasted my mind.”
Sully’s eyes darkened. “I am sorry. That is a horrid pain.”
“You’ve been on the receiving side?” Dan asked.
“Yes, from the high priest. I did not wake for many days.”
“Golden Robes must have gone easy.”
“Yes, gone easy.” Sully stared at his friend.
Dan didn’t notice, instead finishing up his project. “There,” he said. “Now I can take you outside.”
He hoisted the cauldron and rope to his shoulders where he wore the metal pot like a backpack. His spine strained against the added weight but much less than he should have. Evolving his magic did wonders for his physique, making the weight feel like a block of concrete rather than a pallet.
“Oh? What is this?” Sully asked.
“A basket,” Dan answered with a gentle smile. “I’ll carry you around.”
The old man laughed, broken and depressed. “No, don't worry for me. I am content with lying here.”
Dan didn’t take the bait. “But I’m not. I can’t heal you, we both know that. But I can make sure you don’t die of boredom.”
The somber statement was not hidden to either party. Regardless, Sully said, “Then I will be honored to follow behind you.”
It took a few minutes of painful adjusting, but the upper torso was able to rest somewhat comfortably within the cauldron. The extra weight against Dan’s back and spine was an annoyance, but nothing he would ever complain about.
Exiting the prison, Sully shuddered at the feeling of fresh air. He stifled a hiccup of pleasure but smiled, nonetheless.
“It's been a year,” he said directly into Dan’s ear. “And I still don’t miss this camp.”
Dan laughed. “I understand completely. Come on, we’ll go to the cliff that overlooks the area. I’ll try not to drop you.”
________________________________________
It pushed through the ground, much like the name it had been given.
Worm.
It didn’t understand the connotation nor the reason behind its name, or even that it had a name for that matter. It had only one purpose and one purpose alone.
To grow.
The instinct made its body move. Hunt. Search. Thrive. It searched for the greatest sources of food, of energy, of misery.
Sometimes it found a bountiful host, other times it crumbled and burned. It would come back, it would always come back.
It stalked in the shadows, hid in plain sight, went invisible as it moved through the world. What it was, it did not know, only that its purpose was to eat, to help the original grow.
When was it waking up?
Soon, it hoped.
Now, it wished.
