Tutty The Fruity
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Prompt: The Torrential Takeover (Part 7) (Final)
🕑 Added 2022-04-14 23:03:06 +0000 UTCSummary: A water demon attempts to take over a young woman's body for her own nefarious purposes, but there are complications; the woman finds an unwanted presence riding in her mental backseat and a myriad of new powers at her disposal. Commissioned by TheDownhillRabbit6 for April 2022.
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An otherworldly rage filled Song's buxom, the likes of which she had never experienced before. Her entire body rippled with ethereal energy, and the waters all around her stirred as if agitated, as if yielding to her command.
Her myriad tendrils coiled together, fusing back into a single appendage as the furthest tip extended further and further away from her form. With familiar feelings of seething hatred came knowledge, memories, calculated strategies of how to best exact her vengeance.
Her body pulsed as energy rippled throughout her form, crackling to the extremities of her limbs as the constant flow built up a surge of magic within her. Her skin stretched taut, her body growing in all directions, pin pricks tickling her skin as millions of serpentine scales pushed through her skin as her body stretched. She willed herself to grow bigger, bigger than anything in her seas...
She wanted the world to know that she had returned. Looming a hundred meters above the water line, her tail extended even farther into the depths. well over a thousand feet long. The private island looked like a pithy little ant colony compared to her surging might.
Her red eyes glowed with a spiteful rage, her hair tendrils flaring as storm clouds surged around her; her claws twitched with anticipation as her might tail swirled in a wide circle. The waters ebbed and flowed to her whim, shifting around the paltry island like a raging whirlpool.
The waves rose as they swirled all around, swelling rapidly until they resembled tsunamis, twirling about in perfect sync. They crept closer to the shoreline, frothy white waves crashing against the cliff sides, tearing down power lines, barricades, and the natural rock formations. One of their speeder boats tumbled atop one of the waves, crashing down upon the glass-domed roof.
The crackle of gunfire and the chittering of the gangsters below got an amused chuckle out of Song. The gunfire didn't so much as register a tickle through her thick plate scales, now surpassing the thickness of battleship armour. She raised a clawed finger and, with a casual flick, sent an RPG arcing off towards the horizon, watching it explode out of the corner of her eye.
It was clear these gangsters were well out of their depth. Best to put the gaggle out of their misery. She raised her tail above the island, swaying it playfully, before...
CRASH!!! With a single, mighty swing, she brought it crashing down upon the island, feeling the crunching of rock, concrete, foundations slipping deeper, beyond the surface of the water, careening towards the murky depths of the sea. The entire island had been laid to waste, sunken like so many others in ages come and gone...
But the water rippled still with a pestilence that was intolerable. She knashed her fangs and dove downwards, her sleek body casting aside enough water to fill entire lakebeds. Her hyper-tuned senses smelled blood in the water, a sustained injury, the sweet taste of schadenfreude complementing the salty, rusty palette of misty blood. Her body shrunk on its own to a slightly more manageable scale; she wanted to see the fear in her enemies' eyes, and she couldn't well do that when she was as long as a skyscraper was tall.
Her lips curled into a smile of pure menace, one so wide it threatened to split her visage in two. Her glowing red eyes illuminated the darkness, guiding her to a group of some half a dozen men. Their suits billowed in the rough seas, semi-automatic rifles uselessly spinning away from them as their estate collapsed into the shoals below. They opened their mouths in wordless screams, their remaining air bubbling away above them.
It was Daiyu Wu, and his gaggle of hired muscle. A fat load of good those muscles would do underwater. They were pests of the land, no better than the common rate. The seas were her domain. And she tolerated no encroaches.
She opened her jaw, unfurling lines of gnarled fangs as she surged forward, a crude animalistic instinct taking over as a malicious pleasure gripped her.
Two of the guards were gored by her pair of incisors, each stretching two meters in length; the bubbles escaping from their ruptured lunches tickled the roof of her mouth as she gnashed away, their bodies pulverizing into an indistinct cloud of red mist. She reached a claw for another, clenching his soft body; with her powerful grip, she dug a claw under his neck and, with a sickening pop, it came right off.
...Well, there wasn't a pop, they were underwater. But she imagined there was a pop, and it amused her greatly. It was like cracking opening the tab to a shaken-up bottle of cherry cola, she mused to herself as she plopped the limp body into her mouth.
Her attention turned to Daiyu Wu, flanked by the last two members of his little gang. She grinned, committing the image of his overwhelmed, terrified expression to memory. True, unadulterated fear... she got off on her own projection of power more than the subsequent act of manslaughter.
This was what it was like to be a queen of the oceans... to subjugate and inspire awe, fear and terror upon any who looked at you. She cackled, the waters vibrating all around her.
The last thing the crime lord Daiyu Wu saw was her long serpentine tongue lashing out, enveloping him in a suffocating embrace, squeezing him between the muscles of his two guards. All was darkness as he screamed wordlessly, soundlessly, pulled suddenly into her waiting maw. Salt and rust filled his vision before the world vanished into blackness.
There was no Song. There was no Bai Tza. There was only one Queen of the Seas, reborn anew with a penchant for revenge.
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Reports of a sea serpent wreaking havoc on coastlines were often met with skepticism, with recorded footage often getting discarded as convincing hoaxes. Right-wing outlets and conspiratorial podcasts were especially incensed by these enticing, outrageous rumours, the focal point of a liberal plot to undermine industry... or something like that.
Climate change, industrial sabotage, and human error were ultimately what pundits blamed the string of coastal and naval disasters besetting the oceans across the world, even with increasingly over-the-top disasters. Mega-transports and luxurious cruise ships alike would be thrown miles through the air and left to collapse and spill over a factory for processing and transporting seafood; oil rigs were being lost at an unprecedented rate; and that was saying nothing of newfound shark hysteria along major tourist sectors.
Incidents less broadly reported were of a more personal quiet nature. Coast guards seemed to have better luck finding sailors lost at sea, though they often struggled with stories of a massive sea creature grapping them with tentacles longer than fifty feet and tossing them to safety. Stormy weather seemed to inconveniently crop up wherever a naval battle was to take place, scurrying plans for skirmishes.
Some philosophers noted the string of maritime phenomena, and wondered if the oceans, long raped and pillaged by human interests, had developed a will of its own, and was beginning to reassert itself, to fight back.
Cults dotted the globe, praising the return of Bai Tza... but they didn't quite get the name right with their offerings, so they were largely ignored. The newly crowned Sea Queen patrolled the murky depths below, exploring long-forgotten relics of bygone ages, and wherever her domain was threatened, she would make her presence known.
She would make the seas a realm to be feared again... and to be respected in turn.
THE END
