Part 4 (1/2)
”We made it, we made it to the lake, and we're safe.” Her partner looked around. ”I don't see anybody else here; I think we are the first ones back.”
The woman looked around also trying to see if there were any other people on the lakeside. ”I think we're the ONLY ones back and do you know what that means?” Her brown eyes grew with antic.i.p.ation as the man finished her sentence.
”It means we're rich, we did all the tasks and stayed alive, and the others must be dead.”
The woman kept looking, unsure. ”Shame really, they were nice people.”
The boyfriend cut in sternly. ”It was them or us, honey, we made it back to the lake first, we get the money.”
”So what happens now?” the woman asked dreamily.
”Now? We just stay on this spot and wait for our money.”
The girl jumped in the air with delight and began to run up the side of the lake with her man in hot pursuit. Grabbing her by the waist he playfully swung her around, the girl let out a joyous shriek and tried to wiggle free from his grasp causing them both cras.h.i.+ng to the soft sand below. Play fighting around on the ground they managed to roll on to some stones which made the man yell, as some were digging into his back.
This made the girl laugh and she put her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. They both got up and carried on walking as the man picked up a handful of stones and began to throw them one after the other into the lake.
The moon's light reflected on the water as the stones skimmed its surface as the final stone left the man's hand and rippled the water once more... As they turned around something landed by their feet, it made a clink as it hit the other stones, which scattered on the sand. The man looked into the sky wondering if it may have been dropped by a short-sighted seagull, but the sky was empty as the man looked up. The woman scanned left and right but she too could not see anything.
Suddenly another stone landed near the same spot and this time they both looked towards the lake... the stone had come from the lake. Standing by the water's edge and still holding hands, not a sound could be heard as they looked towards the water.
With silent ease the small waves parted once more as another stone was hurled from the water, its aim was to be true as it struck the man in the middle of his forehead; he fell to the ground never to move again as his Companion Screamed and tried to revive him, sobbing at his side she shook his body constantly but to no avail.
Something else broke through the water, a huge black slimy tentacle very long and covered in huge suction pads went for the girl, she stumbled backwards and tried to scramble away but the tentacle wrapped itself around her waist with ease and hoisted her up in the air. With her legs flailing about she bashed at the tentacle with both her fists in a blind panic and the realisation that she may not survive was upon her, the girl was high above the sea now and she couldn't budge the tentacle as it gently squeezed her little waist, becoming more breathless.
”WE MADE IT, WE MADE IT, YOU LYING b.a.s.t.a.r.dS!”
Her small head was flung back and she was allowed one more hideous scream before the tentacle bought her cras.h.i.+ng back down through the water and then the screaming stopped.
No sooner had the calm been restored to the water's surface another tentacle left the sea and slithered on to the beach, it probed around as if it was taking in the sights of the lakeside like a late night tourist before wrapping itself around the young man's body, pulling him to the water to join his girlfriend.
The image of the beach went back to picturesque in the moonlight until it was shattered by a shout.
”PAUSE!” The events on the beach were being shown on a widescreen television to a selection of suited gentlemen sitting at a long table in the middle of a large well-furnished boardroom inside a towering skysc.r.a.per that seemed to blacken out most of the light in the sky.
At the top of the table sat a man with an undeniably expensive suit and dark shades; he looked liked he was in his late forties or early fifties; he may have been older but kept himself in great shape. It was the same man who had been at the school earlier... Big Man. He shouted again at the screen. ”PLAY.”
The images on the screen continued. ”PAUSE. PLAY. PAUSE.” He chuckled and pointed to the flat screen TV. ”I like that voice recognition stuff, it's pretty cool.” The man rubbed his face and his gla.s.ses moved up on to his forehead. ”But I don't like what I'm watching, so what are you telling me? The only people good enough to get eaten by the Leviathan are a spoilt footballer and his bimbo girlfriend? This is the reason why we're losing viewing figures, n.o.body cares about the privileged or the rich getting killed, they want to see somebody or anybody put up a fight.” He stood and slammed his fist hard onto the table.
”I WANT TO SEE A FIGHT OUT THERE!”
An executive raised his hand nervously. ”They pa.s.sed all the personality profiles, and ratings usually increase when we have glamour models in peril, we haven't collected the viewing figures from the south-east yet so it should be ok.”
The young man grew in confidence when he spoke more. ”Unfortunately, we're still being monitored by the R.S.P.C.A after we put that crimson-tailed Scorpion in to fight with a giant Fern Beetle.”
”That was a good fight too,” quipped the well-dressed man, he pressed a b.u.t.ton on the phone next to him, which was the intercom to his secretary outside.
”Melissa, do I still owe you two hundred notes for the bet we made on that fight?”
A tired but young voice sighed and answered back over the intercom. ”Yes, you do, sir.”
”That will be all, Melissa.”
He clicked off the switch and s.h.i.+fted his tie, while the young executive continued.
”So you see sir, we can no longer have animals fighting each other as we'll lose our licence, we have to rely on people fighting animals as that's what the public wants, we all know last night's shows weren't all that great but we haven't got people with superpowers down there so we have to use footballers, out of work actors, glamour models a in fact anybody who wants to become famous, we bring them on and let them fight. It's only fair.”
This made the head of the company stand up. ”Fair? Is that what saw last night, a fair fight?” He walked over to the young gentleman. ”In our show Leviathan we have a bunch of n.o.bodies who have to make their way to a lake, being picked off one by one by a giant squid, and you call that fair?”
The exec stuttered, ”Well sira”
He was cut short by the boss who stood behind, coaxing him from his seat, and then rubbed his hands on his shoulders. ”Did you see anybody fight back with that squid in what you think was a *fair' fight?”
”No sir, buta”
The boss had turned him around and gently put his hands around the younger man's neck.
”Did you see a tremendous battle between man and nature last night?”
”Sir pleasea” He began to squeeze his hands on the now trembling guy's neck. ”Did you see a fight which would have people talking for weeks?”
He lifted his young employee off his legs with ease and with his hands clasped tightly around his neck, was choking him now while the others in the boardroom looked on in reserved horror, the man was beginning to lose consciousness.
”Sir!” His voice boomed as he continued to choke the life from the exec. ”DID YOU WATCH A DECENT REALITY TV SHOW LAST NIGHT?” There was nothing coming from the young man now. ”WELL NEITHER DID I.”
The boss with one hand threw the body of the man across the room into a rubber plant. ”FIND ME A CHALLENGE; FIND ME TALENT NOW...OYLMPIA'S GOT TALENT...DO IT NOW.” Enraged, he placed his hands under the table and flipped it over causing the other suits to dart. ”GET OUT, GET OUT GET OUT!”
Everybody exited the room quickly to a succession of screams, until the boss man was left alone and started to calm down after taking some deep breaths, he bent down and picked up the phone up from the floor and pressed the intercom b.u.t.ton.
”Melissa?” Her voice came online as calm as ever. ”Yes sir.”
”Sorry about that.”
”That's fine, sir.”
He looked over to the body of the man crumpled in a heap on the rubber plant. ”Could you send out a condolence package to Mrs Davis please? Usual stuff, flowers, sympathy card, that sort of thing?”
”Of course, sir.”
”Thank you, oh and Melissa?”
”Yes sir?”
”I know I still owe you two hundred notes from that bet....so would you like some tea?”
”Why thank you sir, I would.”