Mermaid Pirate Dispatch

The vast, unfathomable creature of the abyss sighed as another large truck backed up to the edge of the void with it’s incessant beep beep beeping. Since before the first light of the birth of the universe there was darkness, and the darkness had always been the creature’s domain. There were a few portals into the void, but none was as irksome as the hole leading to Earth.

The beeping stopped and in the brief silence the creature remembered a time when napping and soaking in the rays of countless stars were the only things to do. Occasionally a flood or a meteor impact would send huge amounts of liquid or debris into the void, but before the advent of large human societies, the void had been a sacred place of retreat for the creature that lived there.

The truck growled and moaned and soon a tiny trickle of garbage began its neverending descent into darkness. The creature had no definite form, yet it rolled its metaphorical eyes and recalled a time when early human tribes would cast their screaming sacrifices into the bottomless black night. At least those practices were intended to show fear and respect to the void.

The creature briefly focused its omnipresent attention on a pair of kicking legs dangling from the ledge that separated its world from humankind. A tiny voice dripped into the expansive nothingness. At first the creature turned away without hearing a word from the small voice, having grown tired of humankind’s pointless woes and insignificant laments. But this voice was different. The creature focused again, and harder, to the point that it nearly took shape by those two kicking feet. The legs were stubby and smaller than usual. They were covered in thick cloth hose with tiny rubber shoes covering the feet.

“I don’t know what to do,” the voice continued. It was high in tone and sweet to hear compared to the usual complains. There were tones of whimsy and curiosity, and the words were deliberate and clear.

Without form the creature could not speak, but it focused its razor sharp will and pleaded for the small visitor to speak.

The child sighed and bent over, peering down into the inky depths.

The void peered back and received the child’s tears with intense curiosity.

It was a little girl, with long curly locks that bounced as she sobbed. Her golden hair glowed bright against her little black dress with white buttons.

The creature waited patiently, as eternal beings are wont to do.

The child sniffled and wiped her eyes. “I can’t go home, not without mother.” She sobbed uncontrollably at the mention of mother.

A moment passed while more tears trickled down like tiny sparkling diamonds into the darkness. The creature solidified, clinging to the ground beneath the girl, the thin bit of earth that separated her world of light from his world of darkness. It reached out with a jet black hand and caught a tear, bringing it to his empty face. It was wonderfully icy.

“I think if I go home, I’ll die,” the little girl whimpered. “He wants me to call him daddy, but I can’t. He isn’t a daddy, he’s a monster. He always hurt me so bad when mommy was away, and now she’s gone forever.”

The creature went stiff as the girl’s words disappeared into the depths of the void. The creature’s form swelled and trembled, forming powerful muscles and a rigid frame. It growled, fueled by anger, and a fire ignited in its core.

It moved with the grace of a snake, twisting its shadowy mass out of the void for the first time in all of eternity. Earth wasn’t as unwelcoming as it had always presumed. The skies were clouded with thick clouds that blocked the sun, and a few scattered drops of rain were splashing onto nearby roads.

The little girl gasped, but did not shriek like the sacrifices of old. Her huge wide eyes followed the creature as it circled her, glaring out at the world with burning red eyes.

“Who are you?” the girl asked, twisting her torso to follow the creature’s stalking movements.

“Take me home with you,” the creature hissed.

The girl’s eyes bulged and she shook her head with vigor. “My step father will be angry,” she said.

“Your step father belongs to me,” the creature whispered, its voice like a hot coal on ice.

---

Hank grunted and fell back into the worn recliner by the television. He had the lights off. Even nature was playing nice today with the dark clouds. It was the perfect day for his favorite hangover cure. WWE, beer, darkness, and no kids.

He’d been glad Charlotte’s sister had offered to take the little brat to her mother’s funeral. Hank had no intention of attending. They were only married a few months, and he’d gotten everything he wanted out of the deal, for the most part. He had the trailer, the television, and her life insurance check.

The little girl was a mixed bag. On the one hand, she was obnoxious. But on the other hand…

The door rattled.

Hank moaned and pressed a knuckle into one of his aching temples.

There was a knock at the door.

Charlotte’s sister had a key, why didn’t she just let the kid in and go?

The doorbell rang.

“Oh hell, I’m coming!” he yelled. He slammed the beer down on the end table by the chair, forgetting that it was open. He cursed and licked the liquid off his wrist as he struggled out of the chair, rolling himself forward a few times to rock himself free. Once he was on his feet he hobbled to the door and unlocked it, throwing it open. “What the hell do you want?” he barked, expecting to be looking someone in the eye.

He glanced down. It was just the brat.

“Where’s your aunt?” he asked, turning to leave her at the open door.

The little girl didn’t move. Out the corner of his eye he saw her nodding. “That’s him,” she said.

Hank froze. A sinking feeling tugged at his massive gut. “Who are you talking to?” he asked, his heart racing. Had she squealed on him? He’d warned her about the consequences for squealing. Anger boiled up inside and he clenched his jaw. If that was what was going on he’d be sure she paid dearly for it later.

But when he leaned out the door to see who she was talking to there was nobody there. Just the blackness of an early night.

He opened his mouth and tensed up a fist to scold her, but as soon as he’d lifted his arm he felt a powerful, icy grip around his wrist.

“Hey!” he cried, staring at his wrist with wide eyes.

Suddenly Hank was flying through the air, down the steps to the trailer door. His face hit the ground hard, his arm twisting painfully behind his back with the icy cuff still latched firmly to his wrist.

“Go on inside,” a voice said. Its hissing sound made Hank shiver. “Call your aunt in the morning.”

“What?” Hank moaned, his voice muffled by the concrete. His face was stinging.

“Thank you,” the girl’s little voice muttered. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” the whisper replied. There was a hint of satisfaction in its voice as it said the word.

Hank heard the door latch click shut. With his free hand he tried to right himself, or at least peel his face off the cement. “Now listen here,” he began.

All at once Hank was under a hundred tons of weight. All the air in his lungs evacuated. A searing pain erupted in his temples. He tried to gasp for air, but his lungs were too compressed to move.

“No you listen,” the voice hissed. “You belong to my realm. You’re coming with me.”

Hank could suddenly breathe again but it felt as though his arm was being ripped from his shoulder as he was lifted high into the air. The dark sky glowed with the last rays of sunshine seeping down to the ground through the thinnest bits of cloud cover. By this meager light Hank could just make out the massive silhouette of a shadow monster towering over the trailer. It’s angular head featured two eyes of red hot coal that bored into his mind and awakened his deepest fears.

A dark, warm spot grew in the crotch of Hank’s sweatpants.

The creature began to walk, the silence of its movement belying it’s gigantic presence.

“Wait!” Hank cried, his voice shaking. “Wait! What are you talking about? Are you taking me to jail or something? I don’t understand! Please, don’t hurt me! I didn’t do anything!”

The creature halted and dangled Hank in its black face. “Stop crying,” it commanded with a hiss. “You’re annoying me and I don’t want to kill you.”

Hank shut up.

It was a short walk to the void with the creature’s long gait. Hank looked down and saw the expansive void below. His heart fluttered, ready to stop beating. His blood ran cold. He looked at the creature with horror in his beady eyes.

“My realm,” the creature hissed slowly. He dangled Hank out over the abyss.

Hank’s eyes were wide, pleading. He shook his head. “No,” he breathed, unable to scream. His chest was tight. He couldn’t breathe. “No.”

The creature nodded, then released his grip on Hank’s wrist.

Hank plummeted. He reached out into the air, but there was nothing to grab. The sensation of freefall triggered every survival instinct in his body. His heart pounded, adrenalin flooded his system. His world became nothing but a disk of black clouds and retreating treetops as the emptiness around him grew and enveloped him. He gasped and tried to scream, but all he could do was choke and whimper and fall.

He fell, and fell, and fell. The circular window out of the void shrank, details faded. It was a turbulent, dark grey hole. Then it was a dim moon behind clouds. Then it was a grey speck on a jet black screen. Then it was nothing but a memory, like the time when his feet were on firm ground.

Hank had no way of knowing how much time had passed when the realization hit him, but when it did he could feel long hairs on his tired face, and when he ran his hands over his body he could feel his own ribs. He was always hungry in the void, but the hunger couldn’t kill him. His mouth was as dry as hot sand but he couldn’t pass out from lack of water. His eyes always burned for sleep, but he could never tell if he was awake or asleep.

He began to wonder if he could will himself to stop breathing, if he could somehow end his life on his own. He bruised his neck trying, but it was no use. Maybe he was already dead. Maybe this was hell, his punishment for the way he’d treated that little girl. He couldn’t remember her name, but every memory of his crimes against her was as vivid as the day he’d committed them. Every moment of his existence was filled with the anguish and certainty of his guilt. No punishment would ever be enough. No suffering could ever make up for what he’d done.

And so he fell, and fell, and fell.

[Reddit Post]