her eyes, a predator. a dream
A dream I had over a week ago, recounted and embellished into a short story. They were specifically Great White Sharks, which is especially interesting because I have a deathly fear of sharks.
I hope you enjoy.
They have all gathered, the people of the kingdom are standing by the water's edge, so crisp and clear. Their cheers and chants dance over the ripples and climb up the tower far, far above, where the sounds of justice echo far and wide. The slice of metal upon metal makes them alive as the executioners sharpen their swords, preparing to do their duty and deliver a spectacle that none would turn from.
When the time is right, the wriggling wretch is forced to the edge, hair yanked up and screaming. Begging in tongues doomed to never bring change, and with a wicked leer, the blade is raised. Neck bared, a swipe, and they fall. it seems a universe, until the crowd lets out a cheer as they watch the doomed hit the water far below. Two splashes.
More come, more fall, the water no less clean, no less perfect. The crowd is roaring, justice is done, all is clear. Even death is pristine, at least when it befalls the weak.
Another is grabbed, ready to be offered, but this one will not be held, wrenches free. But it does not cower, it does not run for the door. No, it strides to the edge, and turns. She faces them, the chains have fallen and the rags are at her feet, her dress flowing and eyes piercing. They lift their swords and threaten, arms jabbing while feet stay rooted, do not dare move. Her hard face creases, lips open, she makes her decree.
"Kill me, if you will..."
Some move, but only a half-step. She is safe and they are safe from her. Their voices raise, abusive, leering, behind a wall of air they sling to the ramparts. Even their words die as the fight leaves, fleeing, even hunted, under her gaze. A will that would not be broken, a defiance far beyond, all pouring from the eyes of a predator in a body they could easily break. One step, one swing. But none would rise.
"...my soul will not be taken."
Even as she turns, still none move, and her feet leave the tower. All watch her as she falls, those below cheering. A new act! A better show! Those above are silent. Those above are scared. Those above and those below hope the water breaks her.
She hits the water, the splash resounds and the crowds cheer, but not for long enough. She is not still, she does not come up, they see her body below. Rushing through the clear water with a speed her body should not have granted. But was it her? With each stroke, her shadow differs until nothing of the world above remains with her. Something surfaces, but it is not the damned corpse that they pray for...but a single, triangular fin.
With grey back and pale belly, defiant mouth now armed with an army of teeth, slices of gill where her neck should have been shorn, from below she eyed them all with her predator's eyes, dark as coal. The heart of a fighter now swam in the body of a killer. Her eyes turn from the crowd, and to the river before her that extends, and to the great sea she will travel.
A scream from above, and they are raining from the sky. The willing who leap and take hold of the future, rather than let the sword decide it. They too hit the water, and they too do not return to the surface. The condemned flee the tower and the crowd, their powers cannot extend where the ground does not. Underwater they all become strong, underwater they are free.
The masters of the land watch, and now taste their first flicker of fear. The fear of the condemned, the fear of the overpowered. The fear of the hunted who cannot facer the hunter. For they who walked the earth and were deemed weak, who were slaughtered without consequence now swim the seas as the greatest predator above or below, the predators that they released upon their world.
No longer would the water stay clear. The seas will know red.