𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗬𝗦 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥 · 23x FEATURED · An Asian sci-fi retelling of The Little Mermaid that steers the tale you know in a whole new funky direction |
An ambitious teen mermaid must venture beyond her guarded underwater city and brave the...
Trigger warning: Some scary imagery related to marine life trafficking and commercial fishing.
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The gag muffled her scream.
She splashed into the tank a nanosecond later. Slime coated its discolored tiles, and the dirty water made her stomach heave again.
Heart pounding, Dea watched the man withdraw from her line of vision, and the grating of metal suggested a chair being drawn. The tenebrous confines of the chamber pressed in on her like a conscious entity, snuffing out all remnants of hope.
A long minute elapsed.
The pool absorbed the ripples and reverted to its stagnant form. She discerned a pipe on one side of the tank, its black mouth leaking water that dropped down with minute plops. Vertical pipes plunged below the waterline, which might have supplied oxygen to whatever creature was once imprisoned there.
Hands still bound, she swam up to a length of pipe and leaned onto it. When the adrenaline wore off, she was nothing but a cold, hollow husk. Pure exhaustion sank her into a doze.
The terror of her predicament melded with a nightmare and tormented her. She had no idea how much time passed, but the door creaked open, the noise amplified by the chamber's reverb. It startled her into full wakefulness.
Merlingo translated the exchange that took place. A human had brought some food for her captor.
"Apologies for the tardiness, machang," a gruff voice said. "Boats came in."
"Good haul?" Tattoo Guy asked, followed by the crinkle of wrapping.
"Very good." There was a pause. "Set to sail again at dawn—make the most of it while it lasts. Unpredictable weather nowadays, and the monsoon is nigh."
"Done processing?"
"Kinduri stays. We're sending the boats."
A crackle rent the air again, and Tattoo Guy said, "Ah, kottu."
"What animal are you holding here, machang?" the other man inquired, curiosity evident in his tone.
"Rare," he replied. "Can't specify. Boss's orders."
"Ah, hari, hari." The other man paused. "Ehenang, api giya."
The door shut again with a low bang. The air stilled, except for the distant drone of machinery and the occasional drip of the leaking pipe.
Anger geysered up and dissipated the fog in her mind. The inchoate form of new purpose crystallized into a plan. Dea drew in a long breath to steady herself.
Her jaw was stiff, and the foul lump in her mouth made her tongue recoil. She strained her ears to infer Tattoo Guy's movements. The rapid chewing noises informed her that he was busy wolfing down the food. All of a sudden, musical notes punctuated the silence, emitting a cheeriness that was eerie and discordant. It occurred to her it could be a ringtone.
