Born in a world where mutated beast co-exist within mankind, the sea monster rises from the depths of the deep dark ocean floor, among the ashes of holy hell-born out of a byproduct of chemical fury. This creature swims through the salinity waters of the Peaceful Sea.
The slimy beast slithers through the great catacombs of the oceans away in the deep, past the limestone trenches, and through array of coral waving in the current. Never approaching a human in any form. In addition, no man has laid eyes on her. If they ever did, they would not want to be acquainted with her.
Through her siphon, the creature relinquishes yesterday's catch. She soon seeks to nourish her body. She flaps her muscular triangle fins as if it was a bird, saving her energy as she expels a small amount of thrust in the direction towards her next conquest. One of the most aggressive of all squids, it seeks its prey.
The terror of the deep is an effective hunter and she knows it. The creature uses all that the creator gave to her. With her eyes the size of dinner plates, she looks at her next meal. With hunger building in her belly, she looks over the crustaceans as if it was a buffet. Will it be crab today? Or how about giants clams? Or even a conch shells? Ah, had that yesterday. The plankton does not temp her. Too small. A colorful array of fish swims by. How about sardines? Too boring. Lanternfish would be nice.
Her eyes absorb a tremendous amount of light as she glimpses one slowly swimming by her. The lanternfish emits a faint green glow, which is like a "come and get it", sign to the creature. She uses all of her fifteen miles per hour speed to chase down this bioluminescent prey. The lanternfish is no match for her speed. She catches it in a matter of seconds. Within her mouth is a basketball-size razor-sharp beak that she uses to tear the flesh off of the poor lanternfish.
Though tasty, the lanternfish has left her wanting more. Is there something beyond my surroundings? She soon realizes that it has outgrown the pond of her youth. In short order, she makes her way through the marine food chain.
Begat from the toxic spill of Fukushima, a squid too large for her surroundings, searches for other places to roam. In a lazy complex rise and fall, the beast flaps its fins with a smaller amount of thrust away from the Sea of Japan towards the Pacific. Its growth, though freakish in nature, was born from the cocktail mixture containing 777,000 tons of tainted water and toxic waste.
Her ego grows as big as her appetite. Any creature that gets in her way becomes her next meal. Because of the creature's mass size, krill and other small fish are no match for her appetite, which leaves her ravenous. Hungry for something else. Hungry for more. Hungry for adventure. To fulfill this appetite, she heads to parts unknown. Soon she will be the greatest predator in the sea. There will be none greater than her. And none can match her appetite.
****
That is, the greatest in the ocean. The size of her territory is huge. Her backyard of the Pacific covers more than thirty percent of the Earth's surface. According to her viewpoint of the world, there is nothing other than water. Land is a foreign concept to her.
As far as vicious animals on dry land, there exist many. The mighty lion kills viciously, but humanly. When it pounces, the lion bares its fangs. Then dives directly to the neck and bites the prey so it cannot breathe. Quickly, it dies.
The crocodile has no such mercy. By instinct, a croc will catch its prey and attempts to eat it on the first go. A couple of good clamps from those massive jaws and the bones of the prey are crushed. If the prey is larger, well then it will take more work. Other times it does a death role and drowns the victim.
As great as the croc is, there is another far greater. There is a predator in the San Diego community of Harbor Shores who has them all beat. In this world, mankind is summoned by this human-beast hybrid.
Among the asphalt jungle of the inner city, lies a wetland discovered by an expansion-hungry Real Estate company. This visionary of Silicon Realty is the model of corporate efficiency and is the only one of its company to appreciate Harbor Shores' ambiance and moneymaking potential.
These wetlands arose from the limitations from which the grimy Hades himself had once conjured the passions of mankind. And with it, Hades' star pupil, general contractor Edward Wilcox. Forged in the bowels of hell and christened by the devil himself, Wilcox is a man without a soul. For the most part, Wilcox appears inhuman. He devours anyone or anything that dares come into his path.
He has been part of many a Conspiracy Theory. But by his cunning and deep pockets, most of these are reduced to smear campaigns that have ruined many of a man's livelihood who have the nerve to just suggest a hint that his dealings are more than honorable.
So one can imagine when he walked into the room of a recent City Counsels meeting on a nice summer's day, the stench permeating behind him of his well-publicized reputation. Forging through the plain colored walls of the meeting hall is Edward Wilcox like a matador ready to fight the world. Trailing behind him are past losers that have not fared so well.
Sauntering to an oblong table set out for him, Wilcox sits in between his two high-priced attorneys. However, not that he will need them as he immediately takes over. He opens a fancy leather-bound briefcase. Sorting through the material, his fingers slides over the smooth sheets of paper. From it, he pulls out neatly organized paperwork with the company logo on it, and then hands them to the Chairman of the proceedings. Behind him is a row of board members and support staff seated ready to interject.
"It's come to my attention," the Chair says, "That Edward Wilcox from Silicon Realty has been plagued by a nuisance that has cost his firm thousands of dollars and potentially block the moving forward of his latest project to beautify our community."
A voice in the back of the room booms loudly for all to hear. "This nuisance you are referring to are people." The small crowd in attendance put their heads together speaking in low voices and respond to this point.
Wilcox calmly responds, "These so-called 'people' you mention are a bane to the good neighborhood of Harbor Shores."
"These people are renters of your property Mr. Wilcox," the man responds.
"They occupy my land," Edward goes on to say, "Without much capital. To me, they are squatters, pillagers, and deviants."
"They are men and women who have fallen on hard times," the reporter counters.
Wilcox gives a smirk as if he looks right through you. "Nothing more than creatures with an inbred crisis. Nothing more." This shocks the assembly. His lack of empathy or any kind of compassion for his fellow human, shocks one's complacency.
The Chair intervenes. "If there is any other business Mr. Wilcox, we will consider your motion—"
"--Mr. Chair," the reporter is going for more.
"Now what?"
The reporter approaches the counsel without permission. "There is the matter of the aquifer."
Wilcox interrupts, "Not again. We've been through this time after time." He reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a stack of papers. 'I have here testimonials from investors who can more than verify everything." Wilcox's eyes close real tight as he singles out the reporter. "Your arguments are weak and I'm sure you have not learned your lesson from last time and still have fake news to present to this body."
The reporter turns to those assembled in the hall as he was giving a performance. "The aquifer is the selling feature of your new condo project. One, I may add, is not approved as of yet. There are currently people living in the New England-style community of Harbor Shores and they are not happy that you will tear it all down for more condos."
"This aquifer," Wilcox adds, "Is what we call the Estuary Restoration Project. It really is a marvel in modern technology. It will be a boom to the community. I wanted to save this for the soft rollout, but I might as well say this now… the Estuary is completed and fully stocked with fresh water game."
The crowd exhales as one, a loud gasp.
"Wishful thinking from a desperate corporate sellout." The reporter chuckles, "Now who is peddling Conspiracy Theory?"
"Conspiracy Theory?" Wilcox counters, "I think not." As if he was about to do a commercial, he pulls out a large poster board with an architectures rendering of what the new community will look like. The glare of the afternoon sun shines through the window as if Willox received Devine intervention. "Gone will be the rundown shops that will soon be converted into condominiums of the future." To Wilcox, these renderings are a thing of beauty. To those that live there and love it as is, it is a nightmare.
The News outlets gather around and take a bunch of photos of the drawings. No one asks the magician how he does his tricks. Therefore, no one bothered to question Wilcox where this aquifer came from. Many just assumed that it had always existed. And this diminutive dupe reporter did not stand a chance. Consumed by the greatest predator Edward Wilcox.
Without a brave soul in site, where is the hero to stand up to such a beast?