Hatched

Prologue

August, 1996

Small pastel seashells floated around the boy's feet as the waves came and went, the seawater easing fluidly through the maze of canals around his sand castle. The blue and orange striations that naturally tinted the shells' grooves seemed surreal in the twinkling light of the sun. He grinned proudly at his sandy masterpiece and staked a small piece of wood through the top of the ramparts like a flag.

"Look, mommy!" He cried enthusiastically, pointing at his creation.

"That's nice, dear." The thin blonde remarked airily, shaking her bottle of sun tan lotion. "Paul, can you help me with this?" She turned her attention to her husband, brandishing the bottle at him and adjusting her swim suit straps. With a heavy sigh the slightly balding man pulled himself out of his lounge chair and meticulously applied the lotion to her shoulders.

It didn't escape the boy that his mother hadn't even glanced at the castle. He pouted and stood, sand sticking to the backs of his cubby thighs as he kicked one of the moat walls, creating a small hole that allowed the confined water to leak. He was bored and angry. Why wouldn't she look at it?

Didn't she like it? Didn't she care to see what he'd made?

"Mommy?" He said louder, waving his hands at his masterpiece. Water dripped from his soaked swim trunks, pooling in the saturated sand around his feet. The wanton tendrils of liquid embraced the dirt between his toes, begrudgingly seeping into the already exhausted capacity of the water logged beach.

His brows furrowed, irate, small fingers gesturing angrily at his sand castle. "Mommy!"

"Hmmm?" She was fiddling with her umbrella now. "Damn this thing. Paul! Fix this." She snapped her manicured fingers and again the man removed himself from his seat, this time rolling his eyes.

"Mom?" The small child asked, lip quivering and eyes brimming with tears. This time she didn't hear him at all. His heart sank at her disinterest.

"Paul, not like that, I'll get burned on that side." She chastised.

The boy kicked the sand and huffed, moving farther away from his parents. The strand was a beautiful dazzling white this evening, much unlike the usual murky color. Bright particles reflected the light from the setting sun as it cast an ethereal glow on the rolling dunes. The beach was nearly deserted, which was unusual for such a breathtaking day. The toddler was alone in his triumph as he trudged forlornly down the beach, pausing occasionally to dig at crab holes.

It was beautiful, the boy thought, ignoring the heated conversation from his parents as their voices grew dimmer. His feet were taking him farther away from their dismissive eyes.

"Hey! A fishy!" He exclaimed, eyes lit up with delight.

Had they been more watchful, they might have heard his ecstatic cry at the discovery laying in the surf. It flopped around a few feet from the shore, sending small splashes of water cascading over its gleaming scales. He glanced at his parents cautiously as he stuck out a pale, chubby foot to toe the water. He gasped in surprise at how cold it was in stark contrast to the burning sand beneath his other foot.

Again he gazed back, heart heavy: his mother was pointing angrily at his father, who stood expressionless with his arms crossed. They wouldn't approve of him moving deeper into the waves to investigate. However, both adults were too involved in their disagreement over the angle of his mother's parasol to notice as his feet padded deeper into the swells. He laughed with mirth at being ankle deep in the cool water. Never had he been this far in, nor had he ever seen a sea animal.

He so badly wanted them to see his discovery, to watch as he petted it. Excitement filled him as he drew closer, and his anger toward his parents faded as delight overwhelmed him.

"Mommy!" He giggled, reaching a hand out to touch that beautiful thing. "I found a fish! Look at the teeth!"

But his gleeful cry went unnoticed and soon turned into a scream of panic as the creature latched onto his small fingers.

"Paul." The boy's mother said, gazing over the dunned landscape, the sun filtering through her fingers as she shaded her eyes. "Paul, where's your son?"

"For God's sake, Claudia." He grumbled, again rising from his lounger. "He's your son too. You know, the ten hours of labor you went through to bring him into the world? Ring a bell?"

"Don't get snippy with me."

"Too late. I've waited so long to say this."

"Say what?" She snapped.

"Go to hell, Claudia." Paul said smoothly. Claudia's body shook with rage.

"Really, Paul!" She cried. "This isn't the place."

"No, I'm on a roll. You can take this damn umbrella and stick it up your-"

"Paul Xavier!" She rose from her seat, bringing her gaze level with his. "Don't you dare!"

"I believe, dear," He said snipingly "That your lawyer will soon be hearing from mine."

"You don't have an attorney." She huffed, arms folding protectively over her chest. "And you're not going anywhere."

"Oh, yes I am." He said resolutely. "I'm tired of your beaches. Perhaps I'll go someplace cold."

He said, sauntering away from his wife, whistling tiptoe through the tulips as he went.

"Paul!" She shrieked at his retreating back. "Don't walk away from me! Paul!"

She chunked the empty lotion bottle at his retreating form, tears brimming in her adamant eyes.

Damn him to hell, she thought as she purposely picked herself up from the chair, flipping her hair with more confidence than she felt at the moment.

Screw him, she thought, making her way down the beach. There were plenty of wealthier, better looking men she knew would oblige her in a heartbeat.

Her footsteps slowed as she saw a small prone figure in the distance. She could just make out the tufts of blonde hair waving in the breeze, the small limbs, and the bright green swim trunks.

"Paul?" Her voice held fear in it for the first time in her life. Her anger at her husband completely gone, she was suddenly sprinting, feet slipping in the loose dunes, sand puffing up behind every frantic step.

Feet away she saw blood spread over the sand. Her blue eyes glazed slightly, she stared as it seeped slowly into the earth, creating a dark brown puddle under the still figure.

"Paul!" She screamed, throat raw, panic clawing at her heart. "Oh my God, Paul!"

Her terrified screams were audible over the roaring wind and waves, her throat sore from the salt of the air. Her screams roused several people from their nearby beach front properties, many running to her aid, some shouting in agitation from their wooden porches, others gazing confusedly at the manic woman clutching a limp pile of remains on an otherwise tranquil beach. Claudia shrieked over and over, gripping her hair frantically in her fists, tearing whole chunks out as her eyes accepted what her heart refused to.