The pitter-patter of raindrops on Vashti’s black umbrella was drowned out by the thump of the bass that escaped through a pair of pricey noise-cancelling headphones. She hummed along with the melody as her sneakers splashed through a muddy puddle as she crossed the street. Today was supposed to be a sunny day according to the weatherman, which was why Vashti brought along her umbrella. Her life motto was
Chaos Rules Everything Around Me and the sudden appearance of gray clouds and torrential showers continued to validate that life choice. However, as she passed by the old shirtless men in jean shorts and their pencil thin, leather-skinned wives running for awnings to seek shelter from the storm, Vashti couldn’t help but think of the real possibility that she had caused the rain. While improbable, it was possible that the act of her grabbing an umbrella was the catalyst needed to spark a summer shower.
It was a ridiculous belief, of course, but Vashti was a girl fueled by believing in the absurd. Bigfoots were real, aliens built the pyramids, and the government was controlled by the New World Order. Umbrellas, in particular, were quite ornery, especially when opened; in doors it spelled bad luck, in Dealey Plaza it signaled a fatal shot. Vashti had to be more careful. Sometimes it was better to get wet than to draw suspicion. The fine old men and old women of Florida had been giving her the evil eye the entire time she’d been walking with the umbrella before the rain came. Certainly it was the umbrella, not the hijab or the heavy wool coat in the blistering heat, that caused the withering denizens of Florida to glare. Still, they’d stare even more if she had taken those articles of clothing off. Sometimes it was better to draw suspicion than to straight up incite a panic.
However, now that there was no sign of the rain letting up there were very few sun-dried WASPs out and about to even notice Vashti. The trailer parks and cheap retirement centers of outer Tampa faded into dilapidated strip malls with boarded up storefronts for Froyo joints, hookah bars, and cell phone repair shops. It was the sad part of town, the dying sprawl where only meth heads and Florida Mans, often one in the same, dared to stay. Vashti normally wouldn’t dare to tread on what was practically a nature reservation for dumbasses, but being trapped in a rideshare with her current circumstances sounded like an awful idea. Thankfully, the rain kept the junkies away and Vashti was free to march through their turf to what could quite possibly be much more dangerous territory.
While she trusted Kimberly Walton with her life (despite being an absolute stranger, Vashti had been a super fan of the girl’s webseries which basically meant they were secret BFFs), she was still a bit apprehensive about joining up with a bunch of Internet witches. It was a justified suspicion, considering the last Internet stranger she met with turned into that thing, and one she tried to shove out of her mind with bright, sugary pop music and fantasies of all the fun she’d have with the Coven. She’d be hanging out with her girls telling fortunes and making charms; it’d be like the good days of school all over again before everyone started to think those things were childish. Yeah, it’d be a good time. No, scratch that, a great time. The best time.
This is gonna be awesome, she thought to herself as she stepped out into the street.
The blaring of the horn was so loud that she could hear it through her headphones. Vashti whipped her head so fast that she felt dizzy, the shape of the giant truck just a blur. However, the headlights were a dead giveaway and she jumped back to the curb. Her foot caught it wrong, and a torrent of pain shot through her body as she crashed down on her tailbone. The force of the hit made her lose her grip on her umbrella, and her headphones took her headscarf with them as they plunged off of her head onto the ground. “Awesome,” said Vasthi as she lifted up the drenched headphones. A little water damage wouldn’t hu—the vehicle and a few other black cars with sirens flashing buzzed by her and drenched her with a tidal wave of street water, leaving her mouth agape.
Her umbrella was gone, caught by the wind and trampled underneath the lead vehicle. Her headphones were destroyed, water digging down deep inside of them to drown out the sound of bubblegum pop. Her clothes were soaked, her ass hurt, her hair was ruined, and she was absolutely shaking. She could’ve been killed, smeared across the street like shit on a shoe and left to be picked apart by a pack of wild animals. Asshole Florida drivers like that didn’t stop. She reached down to grab her headscarf. Her hands were trembling as she wrung it out and draped it over herself. Her heart was racing in her chest. She swallowed and looked around in a slight panic, trying to find a way to center herself. She had been shocked by the near hit, but she wasn’t shaking because she had been scared. Rather, she was shaking with an absolutely uncontrollable
RAGE.
No, no, nonono, not now, thought Vashti. She could feel it stirring to get out, and she knew there were only moments before the Leviathan was unleashed. She hadn’t realized it, but she had been running after the truck. Vashti forced herself to stop. The good thing was she couldn’t see it anymore, so it was easy to shift her eyes onto something else. Only there wasn’t anything around but dead buildings and dead highways. She glared up at the gray clouds as the rain splashed onto her face. Vashti squeezed her eyes shut tight. The sound of rain on pavement wrapped itself around her. Unlike the bubblegum pop, it was real, authentic. Peaceful, even. A relaxing shower, sent to her by mother nature. She let it wash away her anger as she counted back from twenty. The threat was gone, let it go.
Slowly, she lowered her head and opened one eye. Part of her felt like she’d see the smouldering remains of the police truck, but to her relief she hadn’t moved. She let out a deep, relaxed breath. She had gotten lucky that the driver didn’t stop. If they did, she doubted she would’ve been able to pull her focus away from what the Leviathan had perceived as a threat. She took another deep breath and did another count, just to be certain. Nothing stirred inside of her. Good. Good. Everything was good. She continued on down the road to the Lucky Strikes Casino, the rain hardly bothering her. She’d swam in so many rivers the past week that being soaked from head to toe was becoming the new normal.
She could see the Lucky Strikes Casino coming up over the horizon now. The road curved the long way around it, so she opted for a shortcut. Vashti cut through an overgrown field, hopped down into a stream (like it mattered, she was already soaked), and swam to the otherside. It was as she was trudging up the muddy bank of the stream that she heard it: the blaring of that horn again. Her eyes grew wide, the gray clouds above darkened, and a guttural roar erupted from the pit of her stomach to answer the challenge of the horn. Vashti clapped a hand over her mouth as she lurched forward, her muscles tightening as she fell to the ground and convulsed in the mud. Too many teeth split her face in two as she howled while her soft flesh shifted to hard scales. A giant tail ripped through her trousers, and Vashti’s last coherent thought as she sunk deep into the pool of her mind was that maybe she should switch to dresses. A meaty claw gripped the edge of the bank and pulled itself up, accompanied by the stock castle thunderclap of an old horror movie.
The Leviathan was here.
And things were about to get fucked.
The Leviathan stood up from the bank to its full height. Five foot fucking five, the pennacle of heights. Never had there been a taller lizard. She moved forward with the lithe grace of a drunken toddler. Land was fucking stupid. It existed only for scared bitches to hide from the Leviathan. Stupid metal elephant was so afraid of the Leviathan that its legs turned into circles so it could run faster on the land. Didn’t matter. She’d find it, rip its loud ass snout off, and beat it to death with it. Take one of its round legs as a trophy. Put it on a spike, set it outside of her lair as a fucking warning to any other metal elephants around to not fuck with her. The Leviathan was Queen of the water and the land. Stupid idiots just didn’t know it yet.
She’d teach ‘em today.
But walking was the worst! A dumb invention for dumb bitches. Necessary only to teach the filth of Florida land their place.. Each step brought forth new fountains of hatred that served as fuel to keep the Leviathan pressing onward through the reedy field of mud and trash. Above, heaven applauded her efforts with another rumble and boom. She dropped to all fours. Faster, although not significantly, and sneakier, although not really with that tail thrashing through the reeds. Not like it mattered. Metal elephants were dumb and couldn’t see through her camouflage.
The Leviathan perched at the reeds at the edge of the parking lot, covered in a muddy and tattered outfit too expensive to be purchased on an apparition’s salary. The Leviathan liked the clothes. Regal. Fit for a fucking Queen. The primates hadn’t noticed her approach, too busy dragging around weaker primates. Typical behavior of a dumb, stupid inferior species of idiots. She snorted. If they wouldn’t announce her appearance with their awe and respect then she’d trumpet herself. The primates would shit their fucking pants.The metal elephant started to move and raised its voice as it rolled away from the primates. The Leviathan waited for it to close in on the reeds, and then roared as it leapt at its target.
Immediately it was pure, wonderful chaos.
As it jumped, the Leviathan whipped around its powerful tail and smashed it right into the face of the metal elephant or, rather, the front grill of the FBI command truck. The truck came to a sliding halt as the front of it crumpled around the Leviathan. The monstrous apparition freed itself from the “elephant’s” powerful jaws by tearing at it with its claws, absolutely turning the smashed hood into ribbons as it cut out the heart of its foe. Triumphantly raising the engine block over its head with a victorious roar, the Leviathan soon lost interest in its kill or the terrified primate trapped inside of it. Prize in hand, the Leviathan lumbered over to a nearby sewer drain, kicked it open, and jumped in like an overgrown, irradiated turtle trained in the art of ninjutsu before anybody could even be certain of what the fuck had actually just happened.
Neziul
Antlers
CassidyTheButch
ML
Simply Not Real
NoriWasHere
Blizz
Passable Writer
Evil Ghost Note
