Page 5 of Citrine

I feel like shaking her and take a step forward, but two officers grab my arms, their grip like iron.

I strain against them, desperate to close the distance between us. No clear idea of what I want to do if I get to her. I just need to make her see sense.

"She's lying!" I shout, locking eyes with her.

I thrash in the officers' hold, my muscles burning with the effort. Her light brown eyes, so much like mine, avoid my gaze. Blood streaks her eyebrows, a stark contrast against her pale skin.

The blare of the ambulance has already drawn the neighbors into the street, their stage whispers cutting through the air like the earlier gunshots.

My voice softens, pleading. "Why are you doing this to yourself, Mom? Why?"

Over her shoulder, paramedics wheel my stepfather's body out on a stretcher. His eyes flutter open, lips moving as if in prayer. He's still alive.

I should have aimed for his head.

She glances back at me. Guilt flickers across her face. A ghost of the mother I once knew. Yet, she turns back to him, her choice clear.

As the officers drag me toward a squad car, the betrayal settles in my chest. The weight of it all bears down on me, and a single tear traces its way down my cheek.

After they roughly push me into the back seat, I stare at the white zip ties contrasting against my olive skin.

I'm a criminal.

2

Wroahk

This rhelld will be my most challenging kill yet. I can already taste its flesh but stop myself from letting my teeth clack together in anticipation.

I keep myself moving through the water, my tentacles tasting the surrounding water, letting me know where to go.

I catch a flash of green limbs in the distance, along a reef I have hunted many times, though it is contested territory.

Another glance and I can tell it is a female, signaling in my direction, ready to lay a clutch.

No. I ignore her.

A rhelld would be far too difficult to fight if I were missing limbs. She will have to find another male willing to risk death just to offload his seed.

I have a better sort of hunt and turn my attention back to the trail teasing me through the water.

I see a flash of red and move my limbs so they propel me toward it, elated that it has moved into more shallow water.

I will soon have it trapped, though I would prefer to remain out of the warmth and sunlight. It tries to dart away again, but it is tiring, no match for my endurance.

As I close in, it releases one of its fins, hoping I am one of the many mindless creatures that would take the small meal as a distraction while it flees back into the trench beneath us.

I ignore it, though I see other opportunistic predators are already tearing it apart.

If it drops any more fin layers, it won't live much longer. I push through the long blue weeds close to the shore, scanning for another glimpse of it, tentacles splayed out to detect any disturbances in the water.

It isn't swimming now, using the weeds to hide, but after a moment I can detect its heart, pounding away in delicious fear.

I drift toward it slowly, savoring the last few moments of this day’s long hunt, reaching out slowly toward where it is trembling behind a layer of weeds, pulling my gills tight against my body in preparation for its last defense.

I snatch the large red body toward me, ignoring the clicking screeches it makes, moving slowly away from the poison it has dumped into the water around us.

Just as I move it to a safe distance, and prepare to break it apart and feast, something punches down into the water from above.