31. Vesper #2
The next time they hit the boat, it capsizes and Nate goes screaming into the dark water. The scream cuts off abruptly before he comes sputtering back up above the water, coughing as he starts to frantically swim toward the sinking boat.
“Oh, look,” I murmur. “He can swim.”
The creatures swim around Nate, zooming close and then away, playing a vicious game.
I know the moment the playing turns to hunger.
Nate screams as something drags him under the water, the sound of water filling his lungs somehow poetic.
We sit there for three seconds and I think, “That’s it.
He’s dead.” It was a bit anticlimactic, but at least he won’t be hurting anyone else.
My musings are interrupted by the sound of splashing and the creature launching out of the water onto a floating sheet of ice.
Nate’s leg is in its mouth, clamped between sharp teeth.
The hit against the ice sheet seems to jar the water from his lungs he’d swallowed when going under and he starts coughing before his throat rips into another pained scream.
He claws at the ice weakly, attempting to get away.
It’s fruitless. The creature shakes its head back and forth and rips his leg clean off.
Even as far away as we are, I can hear the sound of the bone breaking, of the skin tearing loose.
The shrill sound coming from Nate’s throat makes me wince even as his blood begins to sluggishly ooze onto the ice sheet around the creature.
“Fuck,” Locke whispers as the two other creatures launch onto the large floating ice and approach Nate from the other sides.
There’s nothing else to be said. The three creatures bare down on a very much still alive Nate, grabbing at his limbs as they tear him apart.
They’re meticulous about it, removing his legs and his arms first. He doesn’t pass out from the pain, the brutal cold keeping him awake as he moves and shimmies, still trying to escape despite the finality of his injuries.
He’s just a torso and a head now, useless, inevitable.
He slides around on the ice gently as the other two creatures move around him, teasing, making savage sounds as they feast on the limbs already ripped from his body.
There’s so much red, I don’t understand how he’s still coherent.
Perhaps one of his items is keeping him awake. If so, how unfortunate.
The first creature moves over him again, baring its teeth in a guttural growl we can hear all the way where we float. The way the creature’s mouth opens doesn’t make sense. It’s too wide, too long, too sharp. The sleek, powerful creature is terrifying as it looms over what’s left of Nate.
“Please,” Nate cries. “Stop! Have mercy!”
As if he’d ever had mercy. As if he deserves it now.
Nate starts to slide as the creature moves closer and it presses down on him with its flipper, holding him still.
It slowly moves closer, dragging out his death for its own pleasure.
Nate is crying, begging, his words garbled nonsense as the blood loss finally starts to take effect.
It looms over him, holding its open mouth around his face, letting him see every sharp, bloody tooth.
“No,” he says followed by gibberish. “Don’t—” The creature snaps its mouth closed.
The crunch that echoes across the water makes my skin crawl even as the thing gives a violent twist and tears his head free.
All of his begging stops, but the sounds of the creatures crunching on his remains are loud.
We watch, silent, as they drag the pieces into the water, ready to share their meal after their games. The only evidence that something had happened is the red painting the top of the ice sheet and the soft ripples in the water. Even the boat finally sinks beneath the waves and disappears.
“Cipher?” I whisper.
“Yes, Vespera?” he answers immediately.
“What are they?”
Cipher laughs as if he’d been waiting for my question.
“Leopard seals. A particularly vicious apex predator from Earth’s Antarctic, known for their slender, reptilian-like appearance and spotted coats.
They are also known for their regular meals of warm-blooded prey, typically penguins and other seals . . . and, also, now Nate.”
We don’t move, mostly because that description is fucking terrifying and I don’t want to attract the attention of the leopard seals. Hopefully, they’re satisfied with their meal and aren’t looking for another.
“Are they a Minor Boss?” Locke whispers.
“No,” Cipher responds.
He turns wide eyes to me. “Then what are the bosses here like if that’s just a threat in the water?”
I don’t answer. I don’t know the answer, nor do I particularly want to.
We’d fallen into this sense of complacency because the penguins were easy.
I haven’t checked my stats since the penguin Emperor, so I don’t even know how close I am to leveling up to a Tier Two.
We hadn’t exactly had time with Stryker making an appearance.
I need to wait until the safehouse where I can check things safely.
I don’t want to risk being distracted while creatures like those leopard seals are in the water below us.
Svetlana shivers on my shoulder. “I do not like the ocean.”
I don’t know what an ocean is, but I assume she means the body of water we’re on. Either way, I get it. I’m starting to not like it either.
“We should move,” I whisper. “We can’t stay here.”
“If we make any noise, they’ll come back,” Locke hisses.
“Then we paddle as quietly as possible,” I hiss back. “No splashing. Slow and steady.”
Carefully, I insert my paddle into the water, and then push water gently backward, making the barest of sounds.
I turn the paddle sideways and move it back toward the front of the boat.
If I take it out, the water droplets will make a lot of noise, so I wait until I’m far enough forward to turn it again and push forward.
Locke watches me and then follows my lead.
We move like that, achingly slow through the water, trying not to make any noise at all.
There should be a safehouse out in the middle of the water somewhere according to the map.
There are large structures floating in front of us, blue and hazy because of their distance and the fog that seems to hover over the water further away.
We’re going to have to enter that fog. We’re going to have to paddle blind.
“It should be somewhere straight ahead,” Locke whispers before he clears his map. “We keep going this direction.”
We pass small chunks of ice floating in the water.
They gently clink against our wooden oars as we push through them.
None of them are coated in red, so I consider that a good sign.
Sometimes there are larger chunks that we have to go around.
This boat isn’t the ideal one for an icy sea.
At least we’re not fighting wind. Everything is still, the air, the water.
It makes it easy to carefully push through the water, but the eerie silence is unnerving.
At least, we’ll be able to hear anything that approaches.
And likely not be able to do anything about it.
I push water back with my oar again and move it slowly forward, prepared to push again. Ripples appear on the water in front of us, small ones that slowly spread outward, growing larger. The boat rocks a little with them, and I stop.
“What was that?” I hiss.
Locke stops moving. “Leopard seals?” he asks, a hint of panic in his voice.
Svetlana walks down my arm to stand on the edge of the boat and peers down.
She’s been staying in my coat to keep warm, but even the threat of leopard seals has her looking for them and braving the cold.
My paddle stays unmoving as something large moves beneath us again.
If it’s the leopard seals, we’re fucked.
“It is an eye,” Svetlana murmurs, watching the water closely.
A large white eye appears beneath the surface and I frown, leaning forward to get a better look. It’s round and hovering just beneath my oar. I don’t move my oar, afraid I’m going to scare it or make it angry. Svetlana tilts her head as the eye moves and then looks at me.
“No,” she says. “Not an eye.” She quickly moves back up my arm. “It is just a spot.”
The ice sheets floating around us begin to tip and tilt with the movement of something large beneath the surface. All around us. Everywhere all at once.
BOSS BATTLE INITIATIED: Escape the pod . . . or die.
Cipher’s sensual voice breaking through the silence scares the shit out of me. I duck at the suddenly loud voice, jostling the boat even as his words infiltrate my fear.
Escape the pod . . . or die.