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Finley aimlessly wandered through his vibrant, coral-filled village, where things were always happening around every corner. He gazed at the scenery around him, and if any of his fellow fish people caught him looking they would greet him with a wave or say, “Hello Finley!” He’d wave back, repeating the greeting with a smile plastered across his face. Their faces were a blurry mess to him, features smudging into each other. He couldn’t tell if it was because of his poor eyesight, or if his mind was playing tricks on him. He sauntered past houses, market stands and groups of people, allowing his thoughts to wander off and detach from reality.
A small child bumped into him, squeaking as they apologized profusely. He could only chuckle as he reached down to rub the kid’s head, accepting their apology before letting them off with a gentle warning to watch where they were going. He held a soft spot for the children of his kind. After all, they were the future of this small, quaint village. If murdering humans kept them safe, then he would enthusiastically end the human race with a single strike of his spear so they could grow up in the pristine waters that vanished when he was young.
His slow tread eventually led him to his residence, a comforting place he called home. He opened the door, greeted with the familiar sight of the main room. Goosebumps rose on his scales as he noticed his mother did not greet him upon entry. It was so eerily silent, it felt suffocating.
Perhaps she was in the midst of cleaning his room and didn’t hear the door, he guessed. He swam over and pushed the door to his room open, calling out, “Ma, are you home?” Nobody responded.
However, he was greeted by a different fish person. A small, short-haired child sat upon his bed with their back to him, staring out of the window in front of them. He raised an eyebrow out of confusion, before approaching the lone fish.
“Hey there little buddy, what are you doing here?” He asked softly, not wanting to startle the child. They turned around, looking up at him.
If he could, Finley would’ve choked on the water surrounding him out of sheer disbelief.
“Huh? Hello!” The child greeted cheerfully, a wide grin plastered across their face. The kid had auburn hair, green scales, and orange eyes… just like himself. In fact, they seemed to be a carbon copy of him from long ago, the innocent boy who knew nothing of the cruelty of humans, and in turn, the world. How was this possible? Finley panicked internally. There can’t be two of us, right?
“You look just like me!” The boy interrupted his thoughts, startling Finley. “Are you Mama’s friend, one of those, uh, what does she call them?” he frowned, comedically furrowing his eyebrows in deep thought, “pal…”
“Paladins,” Finley finished, steadying his voice to the best of his abilities. “And no, I act on my own accord.”
“Wow, you’re using big words! You’re so smart,” the small boy complimented, getting up from the bed and swimming in circles around Finley. “You do know my mama, right?” he asked, halting in front of Finley once a solid minute had passed.
“Yeah, I do.” He decided to leave out the fact that they shared the same mother, making himself the future version of the boy, and the boy his past version. It’d be far too much for the little one to know— it’s kinder to spare him the details. “You’re Finley, correct? Your mother has told me quite a bit about you,” he smiled, lying through sharp teeth that were characteristic of their kind.
“That’s me! The one and only Finley Marai!” little Finley proudly exclaimed, pleased with himself. It made the older Finley chuckle. He didn’t remember being so excitable. It made him miss his childhood, how close-minded and blind he was.
“Anyway, do you know where Mama is? She’s been gone for a while now. She said she had something to do and she’ll be back soon, but she hasn’t returned,” the small boy pouted as the taller man shook his head.
“I was actually looking for her myself,” the older man sighed. “How about this: I’ll go look for her outside, and you stay here. I’ll try to bring her back as soon as I can, okay?”
“Okay!“ the boy nodded as Finley sped out the window. “Stay safe!”
He knew that his— no, the boy’s mother was not anywhere in the village, otherwise he would’ve seen her by now. The only logical conclusion was that she left the perimeter of the village, for some undisclosed purpose. It terrified even himself; it wasn’t like her to leave her own son with no proper warning of where she was headed. And even if she did, she wouldn’t be gone for such a long time.
The farther he swam out, the darker his surroundings got. He was thankful for the light source directly attached to his head, allowing him to see where he was going and for easy mobility. Searching through the coral reef he called home, he poked behind every nook and cranny he came across for any sign of her.
There was none.
Eventually, he came to a halt once he reached the outskirts of the reef. His search was fruitless, he couldn’t find her.
She likely returned to the village by now, I suppose. How foolish I am to think she’d go this far, he scoffed internally. He turned around, rushing through the water currents, allowing them to aid his journey home. He sped past all the areas he checked minutes ago, racing back home, before coming to a halt.
No…
His village was surrounded by that disgusting, wretched black substance. Corpses were scattered everywhere, completely still save for the liquid pouring from their noses and mouths. He watched helplessly as the substance spread everywhere, reaching out, searching for the next life to take. It reached every corner, every crevice, sparing no part nor person of his poor village.
“MAMA!”
Except for one.
Finley immediately rushed towards the source of the voice, a sign of life in this mass grave. Careful not to get close to the substance, he followed the loud, desperate cries for help.
He found little Finley sobbing, staring at the deceased corpse of his— their mother. It was just like what he remembered. The substance poured from every open orifice in her upper body, forming a puddle beneath her. Finley felt himself freeze, watching as the liquid spread out— and towards the kid.
In a blur, he impulsively pushed the kid back, hissing at him. “Get out of here!” Immediately, he felt a searing pain latch onto his back and arms.
Everything burned. He could feel the substance seep into his body and scorch him from the inside out, destroying him slowly. He opened his mouth to scream, but couldn’t as the sensation had reached his throat as well. His body felt weak. He was dying. He was trapped and couldn’t escape. The substance had already engulfed him, rendering his attempts to flail and shake the liquid off for naught. His muscles had failed on him, forcing his movements to cease pitifully. All he could do was weep as his body gradually and painfully rotted, like the rest of his village…
…Finley did nothing as he watched this man whose name he did not even know– yet looked like a much older version of himself– die in front of him. This stranger saved his life, protected him from whatever killed everyone he knew and cherished, and was paying for it with his life. He cried, begging for whatever divine being was above to come to his aid, to their aid. But it was far too late. The man eventually came to a still, and like all the other people in his village, leaked the strange liquid that murdered everyone.
Once the substance finished the poor man off, it snaked towards him. It was almost as if it noticed the small child and did not want him to be left out of this massacre. He tried to flee, but his efforts were quickly buried as it reached him, darkening his vision.
“NO!”
Finley practically jumped out of bed, panting heavily as he clutched his arms in a hug of sorts. He was back in that dingy cabin, memories flooding back into his head as he processed his surroundings. He frowned, staring at the dust and spider webs caking the ceiling above. His body shook, still in fight-or-flight mode.
It was merely a nightmare, another of the Mist’s cruel tricks and punishment tactics. He couldn’t even bring himself to stare at the empty space beside him. There would never be someone who could offer him soft words of comfort and reassurance. There would never be someone he could lean on and spill his worries to like the oil dripping out of his mouth. He was on his own.
I guess I’m not going back to sleep anytime soon.