Edible

Clockwork Nessie, Part 4

I thought the beast a medieval dragon, one that bore evidence of man’s intervention by wearing a suit of armor.

The creature paused and turned in my direction. From what would have been its nose, two exhales of warm mist told me I’d been sniffed out of my hiding spot. My heart raced as it curled its neck down and extended what I hoped was a curious face toward me.

I didn’t often employ idle flattery, but erring on the side of caution seemed prudent. “H-hello, dear dragon. Have I interrupted your sunbath? I’m sorry to intrude but you’re a b-beautiful beastie, aren’t you?” The quiver in my voice echoed off the walls in a magnified mockery.

The creature cocked its head to the side and blew more warm vapor out its nostrils as it moved to an outcropping of bituminous rock. Massive jaws opened and took a bite.

“Holy extinction! What kind of creature eats rock?” I moved closer to the water’s edge.

The creature continued to mine rock from the wall; massive chunks disappeared inside its fearsome maw. After it consumed perhaps a cubic yard, it blasted what I assumed to be steam from its nostrils.

(To Be Continued)

Darwin’s Devils

Clockwork Nessie, Part 3

More water shot straight into the air, dousing the ceiling and squirting through the narrow opening.

“There must be a fissure beneath the water.” I spoke aloud to calm myself.

The effect dissipated, however, when the surface boiled and churned as massive air bubbles ascended. I chewed my bottom lip as I surmised a logical explanation.

“Gases from the bottom feeders…that’s all it is.”

Until ‘all-it-is’ suddenly broke the water’s surface and stretched its long neck. Higher and higher it rose until the creature’s head found the beacon of sunshine in the roof.

I flattened myself in the shadows of the cavern’s wall and held perfectly still. I had never seen the likes of such a creature except in fairy tales.

The beast’s head rose to nearly ten feet. Shiny silver scales, decorated with long dripping strings of seaweed, covered the neck. It reared back in a graceful arch as the creature expelled noisy bursts of water through the hole in the cave’s ceiling. The silver head possessed sharp angles where I would have expected smoother, gentler lines. The jaw formed nearly a right angle on either side as it extended upward to the tiny holes that might have been ears or gills. Along the middle of the back, silver and black-tipped bony plates, like the dorsal fins of a shark, paraded the length in ever-increasing size until they disappeared below the water. A few caught and reflected the sun’s light. The dimensions of its submerged parts eluded discovery.

(To Be Continued)