Phantomverse Stories

The Mer-Phantom (Part 3)

Yaaaaay! Just wanted to say thank you for all the views! (Frankly I'm surprised I've gotten any at all! 😉)
I'm sorry this particular "short" story has gotten a little long. But I hope you're enjoying it too much to care. A reminder to readers that you are free to give suggestions and comments (loving ones please!) Farewell for now!
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Santolina Lopez was drenched. Thank God it wasn't pouring down rain anymore, but the gray fog didn't improve her dryness any more than the rain did. She hunched her shoulders under her wet sweater, and squeezed her eyes shut as she felt hot tears start to form.

No one could see her cry in the fog, so she openly let them flow down her cheeks, even letting herself give a few quiet sobs.

She felt so stupid. Every shallow girl cried over a break up, and never even saw it coming. Ignoring the tell tale signs of disinterest from her boy- no, her ex, now- she had clung to the hope that some event would come along and bring them back to the closeness they had when the first met; the first love.

She had been angry before, but the cold and the rain had extinguished it, encouraging the tears. Stepping into a puddle, it drenched her left foot completely, and she sobbed louder into her hands.

She was so, so stupid!!

She had just left his apartment on the edge of the campus, he a senior and she a junior. She still was wearing his sweater, wrinkled from sleeping over. She wanted to toss it into a bonfire and watch it burn, but she knew that she'd probably just wash it, then return it neatly folded on the front desk of his building.

It was amazing how she could feel all these intense emotions, yet all she bring herself to do was a kind, but weak, response. She longed to feel angry, because that would have been better than the raw brokenness.

It was amazing, because she should have been too caught up in her heartbreak to notice anything.

But she did.

It was a voice.

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Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking, trying to escape. It would have been way easier just staying back at the lab, a much more pain free existence. I could take the tests. I could-

I collapse at the end of the alley, unable to drag myself any farther. The beast that took me here was gone. I couldn't go back. My tail was screaming, probably covered in cuts and bruises from dragging it across rocks and other painful, hard objects that existed in alleys. Examining my similarly feeling palms, they were also covered in cuts and rocks, bleeding slightly. A few of my claws were broken, too.

All I could do was lay here, and I didn't mind. It would be fine if they found me.

But Mr. Piranha haunts me even in this limbo of the mind. I have to keep going, if not for myself then for him. I push myself into a sitting position against the red wall of the alley, trying to ignore the pain of my back fin being flattened against it. Now it was time to think. Dragging myself farther was out of the question for sure, I couldn't do that for anyone, unfortunately. The only thing I could possibly do would to ask for human help.

And it that option was worse than dragging myself until I turned into a bloody bruise. They could take me back to the lab. Or hurt me. But I knew it was my only chance, because I bet there was about a 37% chance that the person who helped me would actually be a good person, hopefully.

So, how would I get help? I've listened to and watched the scientists talk enough to know the basic mouth and tongue movements to produce intelligible noises. The one most logical to make, that was easiest, would be the word "aid," which was similar to "help" but easier to say except for the "d" sound at the end. Oh well, I'd figure it out.