Enjoy short stories by Mace Styx:

More tendrils wrapped around Pearl and lifted her bodily into the air. She shrieked, but the sound was drowned out by the screaming of the gulls and the deep rumbling from the creature. It held her high up in the air, above that glowing amber eye, which seemed to drink in the sight of the squirming creature in its grip, easily stripping away her defenses. In fact, there almost seemed to be something wise in its lone eye, like it could understand her suffering. Perhaps it was unfair to assign malice to the creature – at the end of the day, wasn’t it simply an animal fulfilling its basic need to hunt?

Although hunting implied that she’d ever had a chance to escape.

Then, it spoke.

“I know who you are.”

Pearl’s entire body jerked in the leviathan’s grip, shocked. But how was it speaking?

“I can reach into your mind, Pearl. You do not need to be afraid.”

Pearl’s gaze searched that huge, unblinking eye, which stared calmly back at her.

“Then…you’re not going to eat me?”

“No. I am not.”

Another, smaller tentacle, rose up and brushed over the wounds on her ankles. Something cold touched her and Pearl jolted before glancing down, sticking out a foot and seeing seaweed wrapped around her ankle, the slimy surface of the leaves surprisingly soothing on her chafed-raw flesh. The tingling indicated that it had some kind of antiseptic properties, too – she couldn’t believe she had never thought of that before.

“But the villagers leave people here for you to eat,” she said. “People they want to sacrifice. If you don’t eat them, what happens to them?”

“That is up to you.” Replied the Leviathan.

© 2022 Mace Styx (Hljóðbók): 9781669647829

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Hljóðbók: 6 oktober 2022