Storytime: "THE SECOND LIFE OF ANACOY MARLIN"

THE SECOND LIFE OF ANACOY MARLIN
by William Pauley III

The light of the twelfth resident flickered behind my eyelids, then quickly faded to black.

I removed my fingers from the eye sockets of the resident’s skull, lightly caressed the ridge of its brow, then finally placed it with the eleven others, in a pile at my feet.

A thin gleam of light slithered across the tower wall and burned like wildfire as it moved through the small, forsaken room, shimmering against each bend in the walls of water that surrounded me. I felt a presence then, there inside the room, some creature other than myself, but no matter where I turned, I found nothing but darkness.

I followed that blazing thread with my eyes, and when it came close enough, I tried foolishly to catch the rippling beam with pruned fingers, but of course it slipped right through. The light moved across my torso and chest, traveled up my neck, then momentarily slipped into darkness as it dipped into the valleys of the bloom inside my mouth, the tower flower that so graciously provided me with breath. Once the light returned, it continued to travel upward, across my face, spinning my auburn hair with gold before at once blinding me completely.

When the brightness faded and I was finally able to open my eyes once again, I found I was no longer swimming in the same space as before. I wasn’t even swimming at all. Instead, I was standing outside on what seemed to be the cold lunar surface, hundreds of thousands of miles away from my home. The only light visible now came from the thick layer of white dust that covered the moon’s surface, everything else was just darkness and more darkness. I stood there in confusion, unable to move, my wet body dotting the lunar soil with every shiver.

Then there was a sort of twitching, there inside my mouth—the flower. It was faint at first, but before I could reach up and pluck it away, its pedals grew hard and extended to a length ten times their original size. All eight of them wrapped around the back of my skull and hugged it tightly, all while pushing its body deeper into my mouth, as if it meant to suffocate me. The thing it had transformed into was a crab, just like any found in the sea, except this one curiously kept a human skull for a shell—exactly like the ones I’d read about on that bloated patch of skin now floating atop the raging sea, somewhere near the Eighth Block Tower—wherever that was now… I tried gripping it in every direction, pulling with all my might, attempting to remove it by any means necessary, but there was great strength within it, and in my condition, I was no match for it, physically. I was far too hungry and weak to pull it away.

Thankfully, it left on its own volition some seconds later, and when it did, I immediately fell to my knees and gasped for air. Somehow I was able to breathe in the lunar atmosphere, despite it being so thin and sick. Upon realizing this, I at once suspected I too was dreaming, but what could I do about it?

Once I regained composure, I lifted my head and traced the trail of pockmarks—the prints embedded in the dust before me—to a large hole in the surface, many yards away. Standing beside it was the creature, but it had transformed once again into something wholly different. The thing now stood as tall as a two-story building, easily four times my own height, and though it was quite some distance from me, I still found myself swallowed up inside its long, heavy shadow. It no longer took on the form of a crab or any creature that belonged to the sea. It appeared more human now, but whatever it was it was certainly no human. Its body was cloaked in a dark robe that extended from the top of its head all the way down to the dust below its feet. I had trouble looking away from its eyes, the glaring white irises burning through the solid dark of its face. They seemed to spin hypnotically, although that part didn’t feel real at all to me for some reason. I suspected my mind, too, was playing tricks on me. I shook my head and finally broke free of its gaze.

That’s when I noticed it was pointing ominously toward the hole in the ground.