Bitten away by the eroding winds and heavy buckets of rain. Jets of pillared stone mark the cliff coastal shore ways, topped of strange hypnotic plants that dance it opposite folds like a chameleon posed at a moment to strike. The sand banks hidden in clouded foamed waters span the eternal tries of crushed materials of other worlds.
This area is a sort of nexus point of clashing climates and life systems. What little that makes it home here are man eating and always starved. The skulls of these beast are all that rarely wash in grasp of the islands habitats. A place that a risk of any life or soul to come from.
But sometimes the odd creatures with divine miracle of the universe at thier back, are often sprinkled in blacken sandy ashes and are cursed sighted this moment onwards of thier life.
The turth being that there is a less then great odds that you will face the champion made by the goddess of life, her worse creation before the war with death came to the truce known today.
It is a colony hive mind of cell origins that created blacken cluster fortress to protect themselves. It known to climb up on these pillars as a slow snail, eat the decay of plant life up there and splash back into the sea waters below.
A mind of a child or a dog, curious but cautious. It likes humans the most but it knows that by its creators command that it must protect these favorites from death. The curse is meant to be a means of sighting a death god a mile away.
It just so happens to break the veils for other potential beings among humans to be seen this way too.
Today it was hit along the side by a boy whom was in a wreck no far from here. A yacht boys owner, a fancy rich kid... whatever that means to it.
"Alive!" pulling the water from the kids lung and slamming that curse across the eyes, "My Mother always said that living things aren't to be ate. Treat living with love." Sand stone pokers pet the hair of the boy. Ripping away the clothing too, "You must be as natural to how you were born. Mother prefers it best."
It took this boy closer to shore, hugging like a rag doll between chubby arms. Something crushed in the chest area.
"Oh, your squishy. So very sorry." up on land, laying them face down and petting head, "Your so soft and squishy... you so much better alive." It rolls about happy and froze listening, "The firey ice people..." It pouts petting a little longer, "You tell someone to find me one day."
It rolls back within the waters as it watches three squishy sized humans come over to the off coloured sand shore. The one was stood right over the broken freind, a sort of funny language and long winded speech. It was to bored and sleepy to pay anymore mind about the fate of children.
Several moons and chased by star passes have been past. Grand pillars of stone have nothing alive or dead left to feed the colony. The sand shore had warp shapes and be sprinkled in blacken sand body flakes. The humans now send dead bodies at a constant flow here.
Such minds were melted into the colony. Reborn flesh shaped reefs and corals and attract safe home stops for micro-life. No longer simple cells but entire carpets of flesh had sprung new creatures. These new things leave to explore the nexus cross points and colonization new marine creatures of other worlds.
It has became the birth place of the fears from deep sea ocean divers. The places had help fed more ancient forgotten things of worlds created in the mad mind and scribbling in books. The ecosystem had strengthened a dying myths from starvation.
What are monsters when even the gods, demons and underworlds of hell send their probelms to be fed by it. Known edges of it are called by humans as the marina trench. It turth this creak has expanded all the ways to Point Nemo¹. The gaping mouth that is water passages of all other lands of living. Even imbalanced worlds of living are accessible by this fissures of the sea passage.
Even for the colony inspecting the memories of these dead people, it stared wary in fear of what horrible conditions these fleshy squishy himans were making for themselves. Piting them.
Forget the nameless abyss of sea creatures out in open waters of endless oceans. Its the filthy words that choked in others throats. It were sewage mud brick houses, tattered overly recycled cloth and the bacterium of rival colonizations that spread pain and death among these pitied sorrow souls.
At least the salty seas, rough hued sands and spary of sea shells made these bodies clean and fresh in being reborn new twisted and wonder sea mobs. They were beautiful once again, as the mother of all life would be proud of her little deaths cheater.
Still, it is boring alone in a sea when there it nothing that talks back to you. Reborn corpses does exactly make for good conversation buddies.
What is a nest of hive minded creatures to do with itself?
1. Point Nemo, the ocean pole that is current inaccessible to our current technology today except for satellite imaging. You can Google map it. It also beside where HP Lovecraft had set the sunk city where the great one sleeps. That's how I remember it.