The Undying Undine
(The Undying Undine)
The Undying Undine
A bloody dive
The bastion rose from the sea of rosy clouds, steady like a fresh and fluffy loaf of bread. Its stone was ancient and dark as it was from a time forgotten and left beneath the waves. Mimako watched each tower rise one by one in different deprecated states until, finally, the central structure revealed itself in its decrepit beauty. Its stained glass windows had all but shattered—leaving behind only splinters to catch the golden rays and cast spectacular colors upon the dark stone. Mimako always thought there was something so beautiful about the partially destroyed ruins of the world. This ruined fortress floating through the sky on the back of an even older whale was a perfect testament to this belief.
Mimako watched the leviathan rise in silence from her regal room aboard the Promethean Skycutter. Even from the 17th floor aboard this monumental middle finger to the natural order, Mimako saw the sheer scale of the whale and ruins as impressive. With bated breath, she scanned the beast’s back as if trying to pinpoint the exact spot to take it down in a single strike. Yet, the bastion on the whale acted as perfect stoney armor for the beast. This symbiotic relationship between ancient life and structures pulled tightly on Mimako’s brain-threads. She just had to see it closer.
Mimako pressed her face against the glass, enthralled with the sight. The scene was perfect and begging to be experienced firsthand. It was a big shiny red button, and Mimako had a case of “must press always.” She squirmed, eager to land on the whale and explore the forgotten ruins. If the glass wasn’t in place, she would have likely lept for the whale. Alas, this glass was made specifically to keep her contained and sane. While her comrades admired her energy and ability, they had suffered the consequences of an unchained Mimako several times before. Deep down, Mimako knew why she was always kept in her room until each mission started. She felt it where her right leg used to be. She always put on a smile and boasted about her peg leg, but the young adult locked beneath her childish desires had made sure she knew the repercussions of her bestial cravings.
She threw herself into the nest of shark stuffies that swarmed her large bed. The mattress was as easy as pudding—practically swallowing her in its fluffy embrace. Hazy steel blue sheets embroidered with silver lace patterns fit for royalty lay like frosting to top this delicious treat of a bed. Mimako didn’t care about the lengthy process the artisans back home went through to create such a perfect bed. She merely enjoyed how it felt on her skin. Each bristle of the fluffy blanket felt gentle like a flower and smelled just as lovely. Even if someone worked up the courage to enter her room, they wouldn’t even see this masterfully crafted bed because of Mimako’s vast collection of plush sharks. Each one had a name, a birthday, and a story to tell. Mimako would be ecstatic to tell them all about her sharks if anyone asked. But she lied alone, clutching a particularly large shark she commissioned with her paycheck from the last mission. She wasn’t sad to be alone. She didn’t know what it meant to be sad.
She waited for the call to action, but it remained silent in her room. Her shattered clock dared not to tick again after her last outburst. Thus, the only way she knew time was passing was the retiring light upon the tapestry of pink clouds. She watched from her bed as ships landed and departed from the ruins like bees with pollen. She wanted to be down there even if she didn’t have a job to do. The ruins were pleading with Mimako to be explored. There had to be a chamber hidden deep away that waited for Mimako all this time.
As the Lighthouse Eye above turned away, a sleek black ship like a spear pierced through the clouds and docked within the Skycutter. It flew across the darkened clouds without sails like a raven. Mimako had only seen such relics of the future during her rare stays at the more developed CC cities. Those kinds of ships were never used as tools but rather trophies for the wealthiest of demigods among men. Mimako sighed and covered herself with the nearest dozen sharks.
Mimako felt her heart pounding in anticipation and awe. She stared at her carved ceiling and began to daydream. She saw herself fully geared up and alone in a temple beneath the sea, battling spectral eels that hid in the cracks of the bricks. Using naught but her favorite blessed whip and hands, she struck the eels away into the temple until coming across a dim passageway masked in a gloom. This darkness had wicked desires, which only excited Mimako to press forward. She swam through the pressing dark—smudging the light of her lamp and grasping at her with intangible claws until she finally saw light.
A red blaring noise snapped Mimako out of her grand adventure. The noise screeched from the speaker by her door.
“CC Mimako Fellcrown, you are to find your way to the dock immediately. Not instant immediately. Do put your clothes on this time before leaving your room.” The voice of the speaker echoed.
Mimako rolled out of her bed and fell into yet another pile of her stuffed sharks. She sprang up from the floor with a great kick and scrambled to her closet. She shuffled through her extravagant clothes in search of a particular outfit, unlike the others in her collection. Immediately upon finding her prized Pale Undine dive suit, she slipped into it and out the door. She skipped through the lavish halls while zipping up her outfit and kicking on her shoes. The comrades she passed either shied away or ignored her as she pranced about. Despite her giddy and lax movements, she was moving considerably swiftly and on the fastest route to the dock.
Two colleagues in an elevator quickly shut the door as she approached. However, Mimako wasn’t aiming for the elevator this time. Instead, she kicked through the doors to the stairs and dove off the railings. The open core of the stairwell was a column of open air that you could peek your head out of when climbing and see all the way to the top of the complex, and it was just wide enough for a reckless girl to utilize as a shortcut. She plummeted downwards, giggling as she went, for seventeen stories until landing in the lobby below with a loud slap as she tested the ballistic floor tiles to their limits. She only paused but a moment as the inertia left her body before crunching into a ball, and rolling through the stairwell doorway at ground level.
She continued her sprint to the dock—knocking down a few too slow coworkers. The sea zephyr flowing through the bottom floor was like a drug for Mimako, and she was addicted. She burst through the dock’s open gate and straight past her employers, who had been waiting. Each stride got longer and longer until she reached the lip of the sea and rocketed off into the wooly pink sea of clouds.
Mimako closed her eyes and felt the surge of adventure grace her face and flow through her hair like the build-up to a crescendo. Sharply and suddenly, she was pulled back by a chain tied to her neck. She gasped in shock and choked breath as she was dragged to the dock by the chain. Mimako fell to the dock’s cold ground and looked up to see the source of her binding chain. It was one of the big guys in the robot suits she disliked. Somehow, he had caught her off guard and caught a chain lasso around her neck right before she flew. He pulled her like a disobedient dog to her unamused employers.
“Afternoon, Miss Fellcrown.” Said Antumbra, the Haloed.
He stood tall like a statue and was composed just as powerfully. He made himself out to be a god among mortals, and he likely could be considered one with how much the others worshiped him. He shot a smile of solid gold toward Mimako—causing her to cringe away. Antumbra motioned for the man with the chain. Like clockwork, the titan of a man pulled Mimako’s chain toward Antumbra. Mimako shuffled to a clumsy stand in front of Antumbra. She stood several inches taller than him, yet Antumbra still looked down on her. He was the boss of her employers and likely able to dispose of her with a single snap.
Antumbra grabbed her chain and pulled her down to meet him. His eyes glowed deep in his sockets like suns as he stared into her eyes of solid and trembling black.
“Miss Fellcrown, you are a valuable asset to us that we cannot let throw her life away so literally. I hear you like to delve into ruins and kill… bad guys.”
Mimako nodded.
“Well now, Fellcrown, you get the pleasure of doing both at once. You are to land on the whale and descend… alone. One of our excavation teams reported seeing shambling masses of flesh and fish. If we are correct, the abhorrent Deepwalkers have breached the whale like parasites and have continued their horrid acts against the human order with their experiments. We would rather not have our workers kidnapped and indoctrinated into that cult. Thus, you alone shall deal with the problem.”
“Deepwalkers? The fishy guys?” Mimako asked.
“Dangerous ones. We do not know their order. However, the vastness of the whale could contain hundreds of those wicked creatures. When you enter the whale, you are not to leave until every last Deepwalker has been culled. Of course, you will be rewarded for your efforts… greatly.”
“More money?”
“Money, of course. However, with this victory, you will earn yourself the title of Dame and will reap the benefits that befit such an appellation.”
Mimako never cared to learn the intricate systems that her comrades adhered to so tightly. However, even she knew that the title of Dame was coveted. In her four years as part of the Copper Colossi, she only knew two women who achieved the rank. They were considerably older and more accomplished than Mimako. With their rank came more freedoms—freedoms that Mimako craved.
She smiled her sharp teeth—startling Antumbra.
“They called you a monster, but I didn’t know they meant it like that.” He said.
“Let me off this chain, and I’ll show you why they call me the Pale Chimera.”
Mimako walked alongside the big Abyssiver to the ship that would drop her off on the whale. His grip on the chain around her neck eased as the two got further from Antumbra. Mimako noticed it was deliberate easing and not an opportunity to escape. She smiled at the Abyssiver and laughed.
“Sorry about the chain… Mimako” said the Abyssiver.
“Don’t worry about it… you! Just doing your job. As will I.” Responded Mimako.
The duo awkwardly shuffled past many docked ships. The sailless black ship was littered with burly men armed both with anger-etched faces and shimmering guns to convey that anger. Their odd garb all shared the same gilded pin upon the heart—Antumbra’s insignia. Mimako chuckled to herself about the idea of having to work a job like that. When they passed the black ship, the Abyssiver continued to speak.
“You saved my brother a few years back during the Flesh Rain of Newer York Sector. I doubt you remember him, but we were deployed there to collect taxes and build up the boat lines. Then the Rift Jelly showed up. The one that brought the Agony Monoliths and… made the Carrion Capital.”
“Sorry, buddy. I hardly remember many of my missions. Especially those from when I was twelve.”
“I remember what you did for us. You were dressed in the same white Undine dive suit but absolutely drenched in blood. We thought you were a demonic child brought through the Rift, but then you saved my brother. One of the Massivgots burst through one of the towers and was about to swallow me and my brother. But you leaped and caught it despite it being so much larger than you. You carved it apart with a single small knife and your teeth. It was… horrifying.”
“Sorry. I don’t remember ever doing that. I wish I could because that sounds awesome.”
Mimako tried to remember a time like described but soon found it harder to think of a time when she didn’t end up brutally carving through flesh with her blade and teeth. She smiled and felt her heart pounding like an engine before a race.
“When we were safely away from the Carrion Capital aboard an escape ship, we heard others talking about you. They called you many things—angel, demon, lunatic. I felt the power of your name as it was weaved into the stars. They called you the Megalohorror, the Butcher Angel, and Ashrender.”
“I prefer Pale Chimera.”
“The others were giving you titles in their language or assigning you the role of their folk heroes and gods. When they spoke, I felt my heart pounding as if I had just seen the birth of a legend. You saved me and my brother and have inspired so many people. Please don’t die in there.”
“What do you take me for? I may be young, but I am not some little girl. I am going to kill all the fish guys and come back to a barrel of coin!”
At the end of the dock of the Skycutter, a large and aching ship was propped up ready to leave upon the drop of a pin. The ship was decorated with battle wounds spanning several decades like a war veteran. Mimako looked up and down the hull and realized this was the ship’s last fall. It wasn’t going to be given a burial. This old ship’s grave was going to be the whale itself. Mimako rubbed the scorned ship and bowed her head in gratitude.
As soon as the duo boarded the ship, it fell into the sea and set forth for the whale. The Abyssiver knelt down to Mimako’s level. Mimako saw through the tinted glass of his visor—a man's face scarred horrifically and full of sorrow.
“Mimako… they are going to kill you.”
“I’ve dealt with Deepwalkers before. This will be easy.”
“The Deepwalkers aren’t your enemy here. It is Antumbra.”
The ship landed with a heavy thud against the whale’s side before the waves tossed the ship onto the whale's back—instantly shattering the ship like glass. Mimako shot up like a tree and pat the Abyssiver on his head on the way up.
“More opponents means more fun for Mimako,” Mimako responded as she vaulted off the ship onto the whale’s surface.
Mimako stepped along the whale’s back to its summit, where the bulk of the bastion lay propped. The whale’s skin was cracked and dry as if it was broken earth given life. Her pegleg clicked against the stone while the wind died out—leaving her alone with the pink clouds turning black with the night. One of the depreciated walls gave way with a single kick—making an egress for Mimako into the rest of the whale. She looked at the lights of the Promethean Skycutter in the encroaching darkness. She saw her room with a pile of her sharks blotting out the lower part of the window. Mimako smiled and set forth into the dark. She wasn’t going to leave her pups as orphans.
The ruins hung with pink mist and cold drips. The walls breathed and creaked as the whale ached in pain below. She could create her own way through the ruins if she wanted to. However, she simply took in the beauty of what was once a great bastion. Beneath the drips and groans of the stone, Mimako heard footsteps deep inside. She came across half a corpse dressed in a tattered Undine dive suit. He held tightly to a weathered locket—caught in a memory. His legs lay down the hall torn apart with an entourage of his spilled insides. She didn’t care to know who this corpse once was. He served his purpose and told Mimako exactly what she needed to know about the terrors in the dark. Mimako left a Recovery Tick on the corpse for the Herspectors to eventually find and return to his family… if they are still around somewhere. It was the least Mimako could do to pay him for his sacrifice. As she continued down the hall to the descending stairwell, she pondered who her body would be sent to if she were to die.
She smelled the unmistakable scent of fish and death at the bottom of the stairs. This was no doubt an entrance into the whale itself. She readied her knife and made her way to the bottom of the stairs. At the bottom, Mimako found much of the whale to have been excavated and held up by large pulsating pillars of bone and muscle. She saw many Deepwalkers walking, slithering, scuttling, and flying throughout the cavernous whale. Each one was unique in its monstrous form like a surrealist art gallery composed of only the paintings made by a deranged serial killer. They were men and women grafted with gnarled beasts and fleshy clumps that breathed and thought on their own. It was an orchestra of clicking scales, gnashing teeth, and slapping moist tails across the mosaic floor of fluids and bodies. Machines full of glistening red and purple liquids hummed beside grotesque beasts, vaguely like fish and cows mashed together.
A woman twice the size of Mimako and with the lower half of a serpent strode up to her and slashed with twin claws. Mimako dropped into a ball and lunged forward like a viper into the woman. Her knife pierced the woman’s heart, but Mimako knew better than to assume that was all. She immediately slashed the blade through the woman and stabbed her in the side of the head. Mimako twisted the knife into the woman’s head and bit into her neck—tearing it off. She finally kicked the body away and knew it was dead.
The choir of mutations awoke with her slashes as the opening note. It was time for yet another performance. She saw the Deepwalkers shamble in their horrific forms—each a deadly monster, both powerful and intelligent. In the crowd of terrors, several CC members struggled and were torn apart for their parts. Mimako stared at the tide of chaos approaching and smiled. How could these followers of the Chimera Queen not realize that they were up against her greatest creation?
She unzipped the top of her Undine suit and stabbed her knife directly into her heart. She braced the pain with grim laughter. The knife dug deeper inside and was swallowed by her flesh. The first of the tide arrived and pounced on Mimako. But it was too late for them. Upon making contact, each of the Deepwalkers was cleanly carved by Mimako’s new blade. She held in a blood-filled grip a sword with a hilt of bone and a blade of shimmering blood—Chimera’s Cross, the gift of the Chimera Queen.
Mimako’s back burst and sprouted a dozen great tendrils and flew into the tide with her star-forged blade. She screamed, laughing with each slash—tallying her kills with ecstasy. In this sea of demons, she was the devil.
236 more sacrifices.