Chapter Text
Morph
The ocean floor was a graveyard of forgotten things. Broken anchors rested half-buried beneath layers of sand. Shipwrecks leaned against jagged rocks. Nets drifted in the currents, tangled with rusted cages and splintered wood.
Morph slipped silently through the wreckage. Their pale gray tail flicked behind them in smooth movements. Small fish scattered as they passed, disappearing into the shadows of the wreck.
They should not be this close to the human town. They knew that. Everyone knew that. But that had never stopped Morph before.
A toothy grin spread across their face as they swam through the doorway of an old wreck. Human places always held treasures. They squeezed through a narrow hallway and emerged into a collapsed room littered with debris. Their sharp white eyes darted across the floor eagerly.
There! Half-buried beneath sand sat a tiny golden circle attached to a delicate chain.
Morph snatched it up triumphantly. Pretty.
They turned it over between their long fingers. Humans loved tiny shiny things. They wore them everywhere for reasons Morph had never fully understood.
They tucked the treasure carefully into the woven satchel slung across their shoulder. The bag already bulged with other findings. A cluster of colored sea-glass, a silver clicking object with a tiny wheel that still spun when flicked, a cracked shiny surface that Morph used to make faces at themself, and one especially prized treasure that made soft chiming noises when shaken.
Morph swam deeper into the wreck, brushing fingers along warped wooden walls. Their gaze landed on a small box wedged beneath a collapsed beam. Curious, they tugged it free. The lid sprang open in a burst of drifting silt.
Inside rested dozens of tiny white sticks wrapped in faded colors. Weird. They poked one cautiously before stuffing the entire box into their satchel anyway. Maybe they were decorative.
A sudden creaking groan echoed through the ship.
Morph froze. The wreck was shifting with the tide again. Dangerous. They grinned. Fun.
With effortless ease, Morph darted upward through the collapsing hallway just as a beam crashed into the floor behind them in an explosion of sand and splinters.
They burst from the wreck laughing soundlessly into the open water, satchel clutched tightly to their chest as they protected their stolen treasure.
Their laughter stopped as they spotted a familiar figure waiting in front of them.
Mariko looked thoroughly unimpressed. “You disappear for half the day, and of course, I find you here,” she said flatly. “Again.”
Morph immediately swung their satchel behind their back. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
“Sure.” Her eyes narrowed. “What did you find this time?”
“Nothing.”
“Morph.”
With exaggerated reluctance, Morph pulled the box from their satchel.
Mariko stared at it for a long moment before sighing heavily. “It’s junk.”
“It’s interesting.”
“It’s human.”
Morph brightened. “Exactly.”
Mariko groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. “You are going to give the elders a collective heart attack one day.”
Morph only grinned wider.
The current shifted suddenly around them. Far above, something groaned faintly through the ocean.
A ship.
Morph’s attention snapped upward.
Mariko noticed. “No.”
“Oh, come on—”
“No.”
Morph darted past her before she could grab them.
“Morph!”
Their laughter echoed faintly through the water as they shot upward through the ruins, weaving effortlessly between towering rocks and drifting forests of kelp. Schools of silver fish scattered around them.
Morph paused just beneath the surface. Above them, distorted by shifting water and moonlight, the dark silhouette of a fishing boat drifted across the sea.
Their heart leapt. Humans.
Carefully, Morph rose just enough for their eyes to break the surface. Cold night air brushed against their skin, sharp and unfamiliar after hours beneath the water.
The world above always felt impossibly large. Endless little lights stretched overhead, reflected in broken pieces over the black water below. Far in the distance, tiny orange lights flickered from the coastal town tucked against the cliffs.
But Morph barely noticed any of it tonight. Their attention was locked entirely on the figure standing alone on the boat.
A man stood alone on the boat, broad-shouldered, with hair so dark it almost looked blue beneath the moonlight. Large, rough hands pulled steadily at fishing nets near the edge of the vessel.
He moved differently than most humans Morph had watched from afar. Most humans shouted over the ocean, laughed loudly, and fought against the sea like it was something wild that needed conquering.
This one didn’t. He moved with the rhythm of the waves instead of against them.
At one point, he crouched near the edge of the boat beside a tangled net. Morph sank slightly lower beneath the waterline as they watched him carefully work a struggling seabird free from the ropes. Even from this distance, Morph could see the gentleness in the way he handled the terrified creature.
The bird finally burst free and vanished into the night sky. The man watched it go for a moment before quietly returning to work.
Something strange twisted in Morph’s chest. Humans were usually interesting, but this one felt different.
Above the water, the man suddenly stilled. Then slowly turned his head. For one terrifying second, Morph thought he was looking directly at them.
They ducked beneath the surface quickly, heart pounding wildly against their ribs. Silence swallowed them whole beneath the water.
Morph waited several long moments before cautiously peeking back above the surface.
The fisherman was still staring out across the ocean, brow slightly furrowed. Like he had sensed something watching him.
Then finally, after another moment, he shook his head and returned to his nets.
Morph stayed hidden beneath the waves, watching him long after they should have left.
And when the boat finally turned toward shore, they followed its distant silhouette all the way back to land.
Logan
Logan was late, and he hated being late.
The docks were quiet, most of the other fishing boats already long gone into the dark water. Only a few lanterns still flickered along the harbor. A lone seabird squawked at him.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m movin’.”
The old boat creaked beneath his weight as he climbed aboard. Usually, he preferred getting out before sunset. Easier fishing, better visibility. But the engine in his truck had decided to die halfway into town earlier that afternoon, and by the time he’d gotten the damn thing working again, he’d already lost hours.
Didn’t matter. People still needed fish tomorrow. Logan untied the ropes and pushed away from the dock.
The boat drifted free into the dark ocean. The town shrank behind him as he guided the vessel farther from shore.
Out here, everything finally went quiet.
No loud tourists. No townfolk pestering him. No endless noise pressing against his skull. Just the ocean. Logan breathed a little easier. The sea had always made more sense to him than people did.
It didn’t pretend to be anything other than what it was. Violent sometimes. Calm others. Unpredictable, but honest.
The boat rocked gently beneath him as he cut the engine and moved toward the nets. Large rough hands worked automatically through the familiar motions. Years of repetition made the movements effortless.
A sharp fluttering sound suddenly broke through the steady rhythm of the waves.
Logan looked up.
A bird had gotten itself tangled in the edge of the net again.
“Aw, hell.” The bird panicked harder as he approached, wings thrashing wildly against the rope. “Easy there, bub.”
Logan crouched beside it. The gull snapped at him. “Yeah, yeah. You’re real terrifyin’.”
Carefully, he worked the net loose from around the bird’s wing. The poor thing trembled violently beneath his hands.
“There y’go.”
The moment the ropes loosened, the gull burst free into the night sky. Logan watched it disappear into the darkness overhead for a second before returning to work.
Then he froze. Something prickled suddenly along the back of his neck.
Logan lifted his head. The ocean stretched endlessly around him, dark and empty beneath the moonlight.
His brow furrowed slightly. Animals watched him all the time out here, but this felt different.
Logan stepped closer to the edge of the boat, eyes narrowing as he scanned the water, but he found nothing.
Only shifting waves and silver reflections.
Still…
He could have sworn—
Then he saw movement, but it was gone almost instantly beneath the surface.
Logan straightened slowly. Probably a seal.
But he didn’t entirely believe that.
For several long seconds, he stayed there staring out across the black water, listening carefully over the creak of the boat and the distant crash of waves against cliffs.
Nothing answered him back.
Finally, Logan shook his head and returned to the nets.
Still, for the rest of the night, he couldn’t quite shake the strange feeling that he wasn’t alone out there.