Wednesday, February 24, 2021

Roosterfish

 Furious Fiction

500 words. 55 hours. Go!

Here are your criteria:

Your story must take place in a school.
Your story's first word must be three.
Your story must include the following adjectives: magnetic, suspicious, uncouth, flowery


Roosterfish

Three, azure-tailed Merfish swam inside a giant school of Roosterfish, deep in the waters near Mexico. “Stay close. Keep swimming,” said Septimus, the sound gurgling through the gills on his neck.

“I’m swimming as fast as I can,” said Nema.

She swished her tail and extended her arms and hands like the prow of a ship.

Septimus grabbed the anal fin of the fish in front of him, laughing as the fish jerked away suspiciously. Nema—swimming slightly behind Septimus—watched the dorsal fins to her right, admiring the black bands that curved down the scaly bodies and the wild, flowery crowns that topped the roosters’ backs. She wished she had a crown. Instead, she had golden hair, uncouth strands of silk that tangled.

The Merfish followed the Roosters’ every move, precisely, perfectly: left, left, right. Up, up, down. Forward, steady. Forward, fast. Forward, slow. The swarm of fish kept moving, never stopping. The three Merfish stayed close, almost magnetically, with the kind of synergy that came from swimming together for miles every day.

Phin—the youngest and fastest—swam slightly ahead of the others. Sometimes, Nema caught him looking up towards the water’s surface, where flashes of brilliant light lingered.

But Nema couldn’t swim as fast as the others. She was growing weary, struggling to keep up with the streamlined Roosterfish. Silently, she chastised her useless arms and the round bumps across her glistening chest.

“We’re almost there!” cried Phin.

Nema watched the water change from indigo to turquoise. Suddenly, a red stain formed before her eyes. “Blood!” she gurgled, pulling hair from her face. She turned, looking through the maze of fish heads and tails. “Sharks!” she cried.

Septimus grabbed Nema’s hand. Phin grabbed the other. Together, they swam faster, holding steady inside the mass of Roosterfish. Outside the core, three sharks circled the school with toothy, menacing smiles. They looked hungry.

A silver shark dove into the school, then another. The sharks thrashed; Roosterfish snagged between bloody teeth. Nema wondered if the Roosterfish tasted like chicken. She wondered if she also tasted like chicken.

The water grew murky with guts and blood. Nema gripped the Mermen’s hands; they gripped hers. The Merfish looked around; there were only bubbles and gore, chaos. Nema’s gills throbbed; her muscles ached.

The seafloor appeared—they were close now. Septimus swam faster, tugging Nema with all his might. Phin let go of Nema’s hand. “I can swim faster alone. I can outrun the sharks! I’ll divert their attention,” he gurgled, swimming away like a jet engine.

“No!” cried Nema, watching the sharks follow Phin with blood-stained teeth.

Soon, a buffet of brains appeared in front of them. Nema and Septimus swam into the reef while the school turned on a dime, swimming back to deep waters. The ocean floor swirled with sand and plankton. Still, they could see a faint, toothy smile outside the calcified wall. It was Phin.

 

 

 



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