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This is classic creature feature. Made for fun and to hopefully bring a smile to a face or two.

Age Rating:

The sun beat down on Wilson’s skin like the belt his father used when he was just a boy. He could feel his skin leathering with the combination of heat and direct sunlight. His whole body was sore and aching. Looking around the beach he was sitting on, realizing for the first time the breadth of the situation.
The day started like most weekends start for Wilson. He and his two closes friends, Tom and Chuck, loading the boat and preparing for some weekend partying and fishing.
“Lets get this fucking thing moving!” Tom yelled from the front of the boat, a beer already in his hand and a smile on his face.
“I’m working on it asshole, you know you could make yourself useful.” Wilson yelled back, knowing that Tom wasn’t about the lift a finger to help get the boat out to sea.
He worked diligently on loading the last of the supplies and double checking their fuel and systems. Everything was ready to go and he jumped behind the seat of the S.S. Daria aptly named after his one and only daughter. Now happily of to college and probably barely thinking of her old dad.
“Alright guys, get comfortable, here we go!” Wilson said as the other two guys plopped down in their seats.
Wilson took in a deep breath of fresh, salty sea air. This was what he lived for these days. These times when he could break away from work and responsibility and spend a little time with his buddies.
His hands nimbly switched between the wheel, the throttle, and his own cold beer. The bright sun filtered down through the canopy covering the cockpit of his large fishing boat as it pulled away from the dock and headed to open sea.
He cruised the ship out far enough to lose track of the land behind them, far enough that he knew they wouldn’t have to deal with anyone else bugging them while they enjoyed their day.
“This the spot, Wilson?” Chuck said looking around.
“This is it, its perfect” He said to chuck as he cut the throttle and brought the boat to a stop just before dropping anchor.
“We don’t normally come so far out.” Said Tom looking around and realizing he couldn’t see land anymore.
“Your right, but this weekend is special.” Chuck replied with a chuckle.
Chuck stood up and took a couple steps toward the flat back of the boat where they would soon be fishing. The day was beautiful, perfect for fishing, perfect for being on the boat. He didn’t even turn back around when the sickening thud of crowbar sinking into Tom’s perfect hair cut struck his ears.
“Well don’t just stand there dick, help me get him to the edge.” Wilson said sternly.
Chuck spun around with a huge smile on his face and pranced over to the limp body of his buddy. Tom’s face was covered in blood and he had a nice round hole just about his left eye. Both eye balls rolled around in their sockets and he had this goofy look on his face, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth and all. Chuck couldn’t help but laugh a little.
He reached down and grabbed Tom’s arms dragging him to the rear edge of the boat.
“This should be perfect! I’ve always wanted to catch and shark and he should bring them by the droves.” Chuck looked toward Wilson who was picking chunks of hair and bone off of his crowbar.
“Did you hear what I said Wilson?” Exasperated by Wilson’s lack of attention, Chuck isn’t used to being ignored as he is normally the loudest in the room.
“Huh, oh, yeah, it’ll be a blast.” Wilson replied flipping a small white chunk of bone between his fingers and smiling.
Wilson joined Chuck at the back of the boat and grabbed his ankles. They swung the significant weight of their friend back and forth before jettisoning him over the edge. The limp body struck the water with a huge splash and raised slowly to the surface.
Tom floated just behind the boat bobbing with the waves for around an hour while his two closest friends scrubbed the deck of the boat and made sure there wasn’t a single trace of the blood and gore from that morning. As they where just finishing up with the detailing of the boat came a loud splash. Wilson and Chuck looked at each other, a wide smile spreading across their faces. With the giddy joy of children they both jumped up and ran raucously over to the back of the boat.
Their jaws dropped open as they slid to a stop just before plummeting into the water themselves. Tom was gone. There was still a large dark red area in the water where his body had been, but not so much as a scrap of clothes left.
The booth looked around the boat for any trace of their friends body, but there was nothing.
“Maybe he sunk?” Chuck said puzzled.
“I don’t think bodies sink that fast, something must have grabbed him and drug him off.” Wilson shot back, feeling more nervous than when they hatched this plan two weeks ago.
“What could have taken him that quick though?” Wilson mumbled, a little nervous to raise his voice.
Just then the boat rocked hard. Both men stumbled to the edge and nearly tumbled over. Grabbing the railing on the side of the boat Chuck’s head hung over the edge. Inches from his pale, terrified face, just below the surface of the water he saw a massive round, staring eyeball.
“Holy Fu....” His sentence drug out as a wriggling slimy tentacle whipped out of the water and wrapped around his neck cutting off his ability to speak. He could feel tiny teeth on the suckers attached to the long, slimy tentacle digging into his neck relentlessly.
Wilson stumbled to the other side of the boat, trying to scream but to afraid to. His foot hit a gooey puddle on the floor and shot out from under him. His whole body heaved as his back slammed into the floor of the boat and blood splattered in every direction. He landed in the middle of the last puddle he and chuck where just scrubbing up when they heard the splash.
He saw blood oozing out from under the tentacles wrapped around his friends neck and heard the gurgling, fluidy sound of his friends finally breath. He could see the muscles in the tentacle tighten down and his friends head popped off its shoulders like the head of his favorite Eagon ghostbuster action figure when he was a kid.
Blood spurted what must have been 10 feet into the air as the tentacles dragged Chuck’s body over the edge of the boat. Wilson watched in horror, unable to catch his breath, laying in the puddle of Tom’s blood. He was trying desperately to have a though, any thought, but all that came to mind was that silly action figure.
Then with a speed that should have been impossible, he felt his body push into the floor of the boat as it shot out of the water. He let loose a “NNNNNOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!” In the form of the loudest screech he could muster as he flew through the air. The boat rolled over underneath him and he could see it break in half as one huge tentacle squeezed down right at it middle. Then his body crashed into the water and everything went dark.
When Wilson finally awoke, he was laying on this beach, on this tiny island, alone. Looking around him he could see that not only was he alone, but he could see every bit of the island from this spot. Just behind him was a small outcropping of palm trees and grass but he could clearly see more beach behind them. The beach itself must have only been fifty feet end to end.
He forced his aching, broken body to stand up. Stretching his muscles as they sang with pain. He looked more closely at his surroundings. There was no sign of the boat or any of his friends, but there where bones. Thousands of bones, and his heart began to race. The beach was littered with the skeletons of whales, sharks, and people. All bleached the brightest white by the painfully hot sun. They blended in almost perfectly with the beautiful white sand in a grotesque display backed by the most incredibly blue and clear water he had ever seen. He took a deep breath and started backing slowly up the beach toward the shade of the palm trees.
He moaned with every step feeling his joints grinding together, still trying to process what had brought him here. Just as he stepped down and his right foot sunk into the perfect white sand he thought he felt movement. He stopped in his tracks trying to figure out what he was feeling, paying no attention to the heat coming off of the sand a scorching his bare foot.
He felt it again, this time pinpointing it. Something was moving, directly beneath his feet.

He lowered himself careful to the sand and began to dig slowly beneath where he stood. As handful after handful of sand sifted through his fingers the palm of his hand struck something hard, something cold. He brushed away what was left of the sand to find a hard shell like covering with three inch long hairs sticking out of it. He jumped back in fear, tripped over his feet and landed on his butt just a few inches from the water.
Then the ground in front of him shook, shifted and something massive began to emerge from the sand. It stepped out of a the pit it had been resting in and shook hard, its tail raising slowly but purposely behind it.
“Fuck no...” Wilson whispered to himself. Standing before him was a scorpion that must have been the size of a Volkswagon Beetle and as white as the sand it just emerged from. It shifted sleepily between its eight long legs, each ending in a talon like hood. He could see its eyes waking from what must have been an ages long slumber and one by one landing on him.
He scuttled backward and into the cool sea water just as the scorpion lifted its tail and two huge, razor sharp pincers into the air and lunged at him a stream of gooey slime coming from its sharp fangs.
Wilson kept backing into the water, and the giant scorpion jammed its pointed feet into the sand and slid to a stop right at the edge of the water. It wavered and stepped away clearly terrified of the water. The thing back a few steps and Wilson could hear it hissing and clipping its pincers together as he turned and rushed deeper into the water.
He couldn’t believe his luck, how could it be so scared of the water? He thought to himself. He climbed to his feet, still feeling the pain but moving swiftly charged by adrenaline. He looked back toward the massive beast and yelled “Fuck you! You cant get me out here asshole!” Exalted and exhausted he bent at the waist and grabbed his knees closing his eyes and taking in huge breaths.
When he opened his eyes again his current situation dawned on him. He looked up and spotted the scorpion. It had lowered itself on its legs and was resting on its belly watching him. He was stuck, standing in knee deep water, on and island God only knows how far from human life. His choices limited to staying in the water which was just deep enough that he couldn’t safely sit, or heading back closer to the waiting monster on shore.
Panic began to set in, this wasn’t the victory it felt like. Instead, he was being forced to decide how he died. The water rushed over his legs and for the first time he realized that the sun was setting. The sun was setting and the tide was coming in.
He turned his back toward the creature looking out over the endless ocean, questioning if he should try to swim. Thinking it might be his only option, his only remote chance for survival. Then he saw the last light of the sun flicker off of something just fifty feet from where he stood, out in the ocean.
He strained his eyes to see what it could be and as he did, it moved. Just a little at first, just a twitch, then the water around it began to boil with bubbles. It began to splash and churn as first one, then three, then eight or ten giant tentacles rolled over each other. A bulbous slimy head raised out of the water and spoke.
“I brought you a treat my beautiful pet.”
Wilson felt something tighten around his ankles. Looking down he saw on of the tentacles wrapped around his ankles, in an instant he was swept off of his feet, his head slamming into the salty water. His ears rang with as the pain shot through his head. The tentacle flung his body into the air and toward the island. The scorpion was standing again, stretching out its powerful pincers.
The last thing Wilson saw where those pincers as he fell into them and the giant shiny eyes of the scorpion taunting him as it sunk its huge fangs into his stomach.

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