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A storm was coming from the east, the first drops of rain spitting on the windows of the cabin.

"Thulsson was right," said the helm at the wheel.

"Of course he is," the captain snorted, "probably grinning from ear to ear up in that nest."

"He sure is a wisenheimer that's fer sure."

"A what?"

"You know, a know-it-all, sir."

"Ugh, you kids today and your modern vernacular, just say that."

"Sorry sir."

The sour face of a sperm whale glared at his helmsman, dressed in the fine regalia of an old captain's uniform with dark blue and pale stripes crossing his front, his long grey head blocking at its end in a perfect square as he walked to the window to stare at the drops of rain. The rattlesnake kept his grip on the wheel, his serpentine neck of burnt orange leering out of a woollen raincoat as his hands tilted against the coming wave.

"Twenty years I've come round this quarter," the captain shook his head, "and never has it rained on February 29th."

"Yanno what they say about broken clocks," the snake looked back.

"I don't like this." He turned back to the helm and walked past towards the exit. "I'm retiring to my quarters, call for me if something happens."

"Aye-aye sir."

The rattler saluted with a shiver down his tail, the large whale looming over him a good two feet in passing when he departed onto the cold deck. The gasps of a harsh frozen wind tore across his head and the chill ruffle at his cuffsleeves, looking out of place in his uniform amongst the sodden raincoats of the crew wearing waterproofed wool that kept their scales and skin snugly warm.

He looked up to see the moon briefly, the clouds approaching as he smiled with a soft breath from the glorious sheen of its silver gleam, brimming full upon the world to show the waves like liquid mercury, shining on the drift that lashed with vapid fists against the hull of the fishing trawler. Reptiles and cetaceans started to pull in the ropes of a large net that trawled the sea, gathering small schools of haddock.

"Cap'n'."

An orca approached him with a salute.

"That's oor last haul fer thuh night, crew's startin' tae get tired."

"Just in time," the captain nodded, "we'll turn back to port soon, let all but the night shift head below deck."

"Aye-aye sir." The orca whistled sharp as every head turned to him. "THAT'S ALL TONIGHT BOYS, GET YER ARSES BELOW DECK, NIGHT SHIFT STAY UP TOP!"

"AYE-AYE SIR!"

Heading past his crew the captain retired to his cabin at the stern. A look to the crow's nest gave him contempt as the portly figure of a crocodile's snout could be seen framed in the clouds before he headed into his room. The men stretched their arms and bantered with each other, dolphins and turtles and lizards pushing each other with coarse words and vague insults with one beanpoled gecko shivering at the back despite his thick coat.

"Christ almighty," the killer whale grabbed his shoulder, "you actually eat anything oan this ship or whit Bortie?"

"S-s-, sorry sir!" the gecko saluted. "I'll keep sh-sharp on duty, don't worry!"

"Alrigh', well head oan over tae portside, it's warmer there an' mair oot the wind cuz I'd rather nae have you freeze."

"Yes sir, thank you!"

Heading to the left side of the ship, the gecko hopped as fast as he could to pump the blood through his veins as the orca headed up towards navigation. The rattlesnake kept on point, slowly turning the wheel to drift through the waves with a set of funnels facing around him.

"Mortensen lost thuh bet ah see."

"Suuure did," the rattlesnake giggled turning his head, "think he owes him like five dollar."

"Hahahaha, ah mean nae offence tae thuh cap'n, an' ah hate Claude either way but it's pretty funny."

"Think he'll can him?"

"Naaah, cap'n's nae like that."

"Yeah but he mad as a March hare."

"Oy, belay that Travers." The orca jabbed a finger at his head. "Ahm still his first mate, an' I'll have nae slander against him."

"Yes, sorry sir." Travers peered into the night seeing Thulsson's lights blinking from the nest. "Tellin' us to go starboard he is."

"Wind changed that sharp?" the first mate squinted seeing the waves shift. "Christ he's good at this."

"Should I call cap'n?"

"Nah, he's pestered 'im enough tonight," he turned to make his leave.

"Sir I gotta ask, why's the cap'n of a fishin' tug always wearin' his ol' navy togs?"

"Long as he's a good a cap'n he can wear a dress fer all I care," he closed the door after stepping out.

"Why not borrow one of yours?" said the helm snickering.

"CUZ IT'S A KILT YA PLAMF!"

The door slammed open causing the snake to turn stiff as a pole and grab the wheel, struggling not to jerk it the wrong way as he caught the look of his snarling superior who shut the door hard again.

"Hooo," the rattlesnake shook his head waiting a few minutes, "damn Pratt's got ears like a dog-gone bat."

As the first mate lumbered back on deck before heading down below to check on the crew, he caught sight of Bortie who shivered like a leaf, his lithe green frame silhouetted beneath the moon as two dolphins jostled him.

"Shouldn't ya be in the water testing the depth?!"

"Whut's a beanpole like you doin' out here anyhow?!"

"I-i wanted to fish!" Bortie sniffed with a cough. "M-my grandfather did it, and my father, and now it's my turn!"

"Yeah, your turn to go to the grave if you hang out here."

"N-no, I'm keeping watch!" He stared down one of the dolphins before suddenly sneezing on his sleeve. "I-i'm...I'm part of the crew!"

"I got no time to babysit a landlubber who thinks their chops are wet," the sailor gave him a cuff on the head, "don't expect us to carry you back to the mainland-"

"OI!" Pratt marched up and clipped the dolphin's head. "We're all mates here, dinnae give him shite fer it!"

"Just horsing around sir-"

"He's new but willing! Let the sea break his spirit, not his fellow men, we're all one ship alrigh'?!"

"Yes sir."

With a nod the two dolphins saluted, along with the gecko who thanked him with a bashful look. First mate Pratt saluted back and headed down as the rain started to thicken, the rumbling of the ship's engine forming a soothing lullaby to the resting crew. Thirty men lived on this ship, sleeping in cramped quarters, playing cards in the lunch hall where a porpoise was working the kitchen, stirring the pot with a sour eye towards the guffaws of the Texas poker game before Pratt turned downwards into the next level of the ship.

Through corridors of steel he descended as the sounds of the roaring engine turned thick in his ears like the sweltering heat that smogged his head, shining off his cheeks of solid black in the bleary steam that fumed from the pipes. A small group of engineers worked round the boiler, shovelling fuel into its furnace as it roared and chugged with eternal feast.

"HOWSIT FARING?!" he shouted.

"PERFECT!" the chief engineer gestured. "WE FIX VESTIBULE, ALL GOOD NOW!"

"ALRIGH', CAPTAIN'S AFF TAE BED, REPORT TAE ME IF ANYTHIN' BUGGERS!"

Another gesture from the mechanic who turned briefly with a grin, a komodo dragon in filth-draped overalls before the orca left to head back up. With a last walk around the ship before he was satisfied, he went to his quarters where lied small study with an old torn Scottish flag above his desk, with books lined up and a journal at its centre.

Taking off his dampened sweater, he flexed in the moonlight filtering from his window showing a thick broadened chest of monochrome that shone brighter and darker in perfect unison, muscles rippling like the arctic waves as he cricked his neck and stiffened his back-fin before sitting down at his desk, and jotting down his journal.

February 29th, 18:43

_Fishing haul's been successful, caught twice our usual thanks to Captain. He suggested this quadrant as an old haunt of his, but storm is gathering which he says is unusual for this thomas _

He stopped writing and stared at his hand. His name had appeared without his realising until he pulled back and shook his head, scribbling it out and taking a breath.

_time of year, which worries me. He's a man of old habits, and having known him twenty years I know that when his habits tell him wrong he look at me thomas _

He stumbled back against his bed, almost falling from his chair when those words dripped out of the ink.

"...christ I must be mair tired than I thought." He rubbed his eyes frantic. "I'll just sleep...need tae get up early anyways."

Despite saying this, his eyes darted towards the bottom of the bed as a cold burn crept in the back of his mind.

"N-no. No, no dinnae think aboot it. it's not real. It's gone. I got rid of it. I did."

He climbed onto his single bed, taking his pants off first to hang them up on the wall and exposing his flaccid cock with a heavy-set pair of thick white balls. Curling up with a shudder through his large frame as he pulled his hands tight to himself, the soft and tender caress of the ocean helped lull him to sleep with a primal bliss that dropped him into the waters of his dream, his large pale chest deflating and his black fists unclenching. For a moment he remembered his dream, playing in the waters of Skye like when he was a child, the cold calm waves churning over his back as his fin crested through to slice them apart like a knife through Victoria sponge.

He found himself far at sea but without fear as he let his instincts guide him, scanning the depths and searching for friends. Then he saw him. The captain in all his glory with long fluked tail and strapping silver chest that whilst less muscular than him, still carried a taut sinew that never left him in his twilight years. He never noticed they were both naked, slowly approaching to touch each other's hand and dance within the currents. There was a smile on Mortensen's face he had only seen once before. Then he remembered.

Thomas felt a familiar heat burn inside him as he tried to pull back, the captain grabbed him with his other arm and pulled him close with a sudden kiss. His tail slipped between the orca's legs and teased his shaft, plucking the foreskin with the edge of his fluke as he sputtered in bubbles from his throat trying to push back against him.

t h o m a s

A gasping shriek escaped his throat in a frothy burst.

c o m e b a c k t o m e t h o m a s

The captain's eyes changed by a gentle shift of the light, as if someone else was wearing his face. His lips drew closer and consumed Thomas' own, moaning as the tongue burrowed deep into his throat deeper than expected. The whale teased his cock even further, pushing back the foreskin to expose his head before the tail lifted up his leg and Pratt felt something hard against his rump.

He surrendered too easily, eyes closing from the first inch that pushed inside him and gasping breaths in the infinite void of the sea to be lost forever, like his virginity. Thomas wrapped his arms tightly around his captain, shivering from the heat now pumping inside his rear as their tongues lashed together like ropes, binding in a shuddering moan as the sperm whale slammed deep inside of him. His body was gentle, but his lust was monstrous as he pounded with such ruthless force that the water became shockwaves booming throughout the ocean.

The orca couldn't stop himself, crying out in need as his trembling shaft began to sputter a film of white pre that wrapped round their bodies, circling like a phantom of desire that grew stronger with each savage thrust that gaped his muscular hole wider until Mortensen sunk his entire harpoon through his depths. His mind was lost in the warping haze of the captain's kiss, grunting as he fucked harder and harder before he finally came with a tremendous roar that woke him up.

"A-AAAAAARGH, CAPTAIN, G-GOD YES!"

His eyes shot open just in time to catch the volleys of white that sprayed on his face, a bombardment of himself as he gasped with heaving chest and a look of confusion around his quarters. Nothing from the door, but something from under the bed as he looked carefully down the side and then recoiled immediately.

"G-god...damn you BASTARD! AND YOU!"

He jabbed a finger at his own leaking cock.

"You wee traitorous beast ahll put you in a cage if you cannae behave!"

He threw back his head and slapped his face, groaning from the soft drip of his semen upon his belly as he tried to fall asleep, his mind full of rancour as the voice within the box started to fade from his memory.

Above deck stood young Bortie still keeping his eye upon the wind that shifted suddenly, blowing him almost sideways as he grabbed the railing much to the snickering of the dolphin two that kept watch beside him. Cold burning salt flecked across his nostrils and stung his eyes as the ship suddenly lurched, his coat turning wetter by the minute until it felt like the cold skin of custard peeling off his skin with every tug from his fingers.

"FOOD!"

A caiman steward lumbered onto the deck with a crate of packed foods, stumbling towards every seaman on deck as Bortie sighed with relief and feverishly devoured his fill to almost hiccup causing the dolphins to cackle.

"Don't choke before ya drown!" they slapped his back.

"S-sorry, haven't eaten all day!"

"Ehhh you'll get used to it...hey."

The two phins looked to each other with a growing smirk.

"You wanna make yerself useful?"

"Y-yes?"

"Take this up to Claude in the nest."

They grabbed one of the lunches and looked up towards the tower in the growing storm.

"He's not eaten all day either, go on."

"M-me?!"

"No the governor, YES you Bortie, come on git up there, mingle with us!"

"You 'member whut first mate Pratt said?" the other dolphin slapped his shoulder. "Gotta work together, like a family."

"Right...you're right."

The gecko stiffened himself and took the packed lunch underarm as he stared towards the tower. The monstrous figure of Claude Thulsson could be seen from its peak, like watching Zeus from Olympus commanding the storm with long fingers pointing to the horizon. Bortie gulped with a shudder as the dolphins jeered at him, snarling with a humph as he grabbed the first rung of the ladder and began to climb.

The wind battered at him from both sides like a typhoon, raking his back and punching his waist with violent blows that turned thicker in the sleet, pelting down his head like soft bullets to slither down his back. Closing his eyes halfway up the climb, he felt for the next rung and tightened his limbs to strengthen his chest, grasping for the deck of the crow's nest as he launched himself up with a panicky squeal to grab the central pole.

"A-a-a-aaAAAAH! UM, s-sir, Thulsson?!"

"Yes?"

The face of a crocodile turned towards him, cold deep eyes and a long-bandaged sleeve covering his entire snout that framed his thick muscular body.

"I-i-i, thought, well, you must be hungry." He offered the packed lunch with shaking fingers. "You've, b-been working hard, Mr. Thulsson sir."

"Oh. Thank you."

His eyes smiled as he took the lunch and started to eat leaning against the side, slipping the food into his snouted-sleeve which started to jostle with mastication.

"You're new, yes?"

"Y-yes, sir, Bart Bickerson, but most call me Bortie."

"Why?"

"Um...I'm not sure, just a nickname the lads give me."

"You should take pride in your name. Bartholomew."

"R-really?"

"Your parents named you, you should own that name, not let others outside of your family give you one."

"I just...well...I like that nickname," Bart muttered sitting down in the nest, "it makes me feel part of the crew-"

"A nickname is an insult, a denigration." He swept his hand dismissive. "Those who do such will never respect you, forever keep you on the bottom rung, Bartholomew. Would you like me to teach you the path of the winds?"

"H-huh?"

The croc stood up and pointed towards the west.

"Stand and point where I lead. Feel that?"

"Y-yes," Bart stood up doing the same with a chill in his face.

"The Saknussem Mistral, coming off from Iceland. Now, look southeast, point again."

He did the same as he felt a different wind whistling past his cheeks from the back.

"Notice it is different?"

"Huh...it is, not as harsh!"

"Newfoundland Temper, warmer drift from that reach of the world."

"Wow...I never thought the winds were that different."

"Then stand by me," he patted the young gecko's back, "and I shall teach you how to learn the call of the wind, and to make it obey you."

"Wh-what?!" he smirked. "N-no one can do that!"

"Hmhmhmhm...have some faith in yourself, Bartholomew." His eyes smiled at him creasing. "It's bad for the soul to give up before you try."

"Well...I have heard, things about you, s-so it would be rude of me not to-"

"Indeed. Now, first I will tell you of the mistral."

The night continued, as Claude took the seaman under his wing and guided him in his craft much to the amusement of the rattlesnake at the helm shaking his head.

"Ain't that the darndest thing, ol' windhead Claude makin' a friend. Heh, that's gonna rile the captain up sumthin' fierce-WOAH J-JESUS!"

The ship suddenly spun, turning with a violent speed as he felt the rudder crunch against something that punched it sharp.

"Whut in the hell wuz that?!"

He tried to take control of the wheel once more, rolling against the rising sea that came shunting from the starboard as the crew started to tumble, slipping against the sides and grabbing onto the rails whilst Claude held onto Bickerson to keep him from falling. The vessel lurched with increasing strength, the waves tossing higher as the storm grew into thunder with bilious rage.

"HOLD FAST!"

"GET BELOW DECK, NOW!"

"SIR!" Travers screamed into the funnel beside him. "SHIT'S GETTING CHOPPY, HANDS ON DECK!"

Keeping his eyes pinned on Claude's movements the snake kept his path as the crocodile directed him through the imbroglio, the waves starting to slosh over the deck causing the crew to slip and tumble across the floor. Thomas burst from the lower deck, marching to grab the nearest sailor and pull them with herculean strength before a second door slammed open to reveal the captain's grim visage.

"What the devil is going on?!"

"STORM'S PICKIN' UP!" Pratt shouted. "HAFTAE BEAR THROUGH!"

"That's impossible," he shook his head looking to the heavens, "no, not at this time of year in this quadrant it doesn't make sense-"

"SIR, WE NEED HELP!"

He shook his head clear and raced down the galley, grabbing one of the crew who almost fell into the water before wrenching them back and draggng them below deck before heading towards navigation. But not before he saw his lookout with another shadow.

"THULSSOOOOON!"

The crocodilian looked over next to a frightened Bart as thunder boomed on the horizon.

"GET BELOW DECK!"

"I HAVE TO GUIDE TRAVERS!" he roared back.

"TRAVERS CAN HANDLE HIMSELF, GET BELOW DECK THAT IS AN ORDER!"

"YES CAPTAIN!"

He gave a salute and motioned Bart to follow him, the youngster looking shivering with a cry as Claude grabbed the sailor causing him to yelp and clambered down with one arm whilst the seaman clutched to his burly body with a shivering of fear down the ladder.

"A-AAAAGH, OH GOD, OH GOD!"

"Calm DOWN, have some faith Bartholomew!"

"I'M GONNA FALL, I'M GONNA FALL!"

"NOT unless I will it!"

Carrying the junior down below, Thulsson retreated to his quarters whilst Pratt ran back to his room. The sudden lurch of the vessel slammed his head against the doorframe as he cried out with a fall, stumbling hard to the floor as something slid out underneath his bed. A small green box.

t h o m a s

"N-NO, NO SHUT UP YA BASTARD!"

l o o k a t m e t h o m a s

"SHUT UP!"

He grabbed it in his hands and frantically shook it with piercing rage.

"I sent you to the DEPTHS, WHY DO YOU KEEP COMING BACK, DID YOU CAUSE THIS?!"

t h o m a s a b a n d o n e d y o u

"N-NO, NO I'M THOMAS, I'M THOMAAAAS!"

The water started to fill around his feet, the crackling of the window and the groan of the steel bending above his head. The door suddenly closed as he rushed towards it, banging against it with his screams muffled by the tearing shriek of the hull that flooded his room. Above in navigation, the captain had marched his way up towards the helm and kicked the door open.

"SH-SHIT!" the rattler cried with a heave. "THIS GODDAMN STORM TRYNA TAKE ME BACK TO OKLAHOMA!"

"Give me the wheel!" He shoved Travers to the side and grabbed the steering. "This bastard will not sink me!"

"S-SIR, lemme help!"

"Fine, guide me!"

Working together they tried to steer the ship onto a straighter path, the howling typhoon punching the windows that shook visibly from the violent rage of gods unseen. Crackling bolts of lightning filled the sea with blinding white, shadows haunting them in a swirling cascade of black water that wrapped their fingers around the ship and started to tear it from both sides.

The captain held fast, fingers on the wheel turning ghastly pale as he wrenched back control with muscles bulging in his arms beneath his naval suit as he clenched his teeth, his neck pulsing with veins as thick as a coarse river when he forced even harder against the invisible beast.

"SOMETHING'S PUSHING US!"

"I KNOW, IT KEEPS GRABBING OUR RUDDER!"

"WHAT...IS THIS-GAH-GNNH-GRRRAAAAAAAARGH!"

Pushing his entire body against the wheel, the captain threw himself at the wall when the handles crunched in his hands. Travers lunged for the wheel but it started to spin out of control and almost break his fingers when he fell to the floor hard. The entire ship swung 90 degrees throwing everyone against the walls, harrowed screams from inside the deck as their cargo slumped and cracked against each other.

"J-JESUS JOSEPH AN' MARY!" the serpent shrieked. "CAPTAIN! CAPTAAAAIN!"

The whale roused himself hard with a firm grip at the console. Travers pointed towards the tsunami, a wall of sheer ocean that roared with colossal charybdian strength that forced the entire vessel upwards to heaven in a sheer vertical leap.

"HOLD ON!"

He grabbed his helmsman and clutched him tight. The sounds of crushing metal and torn steel ripped through their ears before they blacked out, the waters pouring in to flood their nostrils and send them tumbling into the depths with the muted screams of their fellow crew.

t h o m a s

b a r r e t t

l o o k a t m e

The komodo opened his eyes upon a lonesome shore, flicking his tongue to taste the air as he sensed thunder from dry sparks and the salt of the sea washing behind him.

"Aaaaaah...h-haah..." he forced himself up as he felt his overalls soaked to the skin. "Uuugh...banke."

The shore was dark, both above and below as the night remained with sand black as oil twisting under his feet.

"//What is this?//" he muttered in Indonesian. "//This...feels like...leather?//"

He touched the odd soil with his hands, feeling it to be slightly warm as he turned back to see the ruins of the ship, smouldering on the rocks of a coral reef. His clothes were scarred revealing his dark built chest, scales of a washboard stomach glimmering moist from the dampened gloom.

"//N-NOOO!//" He grasped his head with a shudder of fear. "//M-my...m-my friends, my captain! My beautiful engine!//"

The lonesome beach offered no reprieve as he went on his knees, clutching his face as the debris washed ashore to surround him with fragments of his furnace almost mocking him. A few minutes passed as he mourned in silence for his crew, before he took a long pipe for self-defence and saw most of the detritus washing down further along the beach.

"//Wait...perhaps, the others might be here, I cannot be the only one who washed up.//"

Hoping with caution, the dragon lumbered across the shore with weakened legs dragging the pipe behind him as the wind carried an evil scent, making his skin creep on its own and startle his chest with a sudden tightness that caused him to stumble and use his weapon as a crutch.

Shadows on the end of the beach, voices faintly coming through that he slowly recognised as the light of a fire grew in his eyes with more than a dozen sailors stood huddling around it. All of them were ragged and torn with sweaters slashed and trousers torn to reveal their own bare chests of scale and blubber, ragged pectorals and thickened legs shining in the flames.

"I KNOW what that damn box is!"

"Ah swear tae god ah got rid of it!"

"YOU are the reason for this storm, I KNEW something was wrong!"

"I-IT FOLLOWED ME, AH COULDNAE GET RID OF IT!"

"HOW CAN A DAMN STICK FOLLOW US?!"

"A-AH! CAPTAIN!" The komodo staggered towards them. "CAPTAIN, YOU ARE ALL ALIVE!"

"HASAN!" Thomas ran to his side and grabbed him along with the porpoise chef. "Ohhh christ thank god yer alright."

"What...h-happen, the ship, i-it is gone!"

"That makes twenty of us accounted for," said Captain Mortensen ticking off a checklist, "a miraculous escape, despite our being stranded on this wretched island."

"The storm crept up on us," said Thulsson through his bandages, "we are fortunate to wash up here."

"Ah wouldnae say that," Thomas shook his head, "this island is...ah never seen it before."

"I thought you two been round these parts," said the rattlesnake with hand on hips.

"But not this isle," the sperm whale shook his head, "this...this place should not exist, I cannot imagine how we kept missing it all these years."

"Well I ain' never been in Silverado, but that don't mean it don't exist."

"Sh-should we try and look for people?" asked Bart shivering close to the fire.

"Didya see anyone Hasan?" the orca looked back to him.

"No," the komodo shook his head, "I wake up, only me, I follow the water, it go this way."

"Maybe others went that way too."

"Thomas you stay with me," the captain pointed, "Thulsson, you go, take six of us with you and report back in half an hour."

"Yes sir," the lookout saluted, "Bartholomew, come with me."

"Y-yes sir!"

The gecko saluted and headed off with him and five others. Sitting down by the flame, the komodo took a deep breath of relief from the heat, noticing the whale's uniform had been torn and dishevelled from their hard landing whilst Pratt kept hold of a small green box underneath one of his arms. His sweater was gone, leaving him bare-chest with the captain having lost half a sleeve and most of one trouser leg amongst other scratches.

"What were you arguing?" he asked him.

"An old matter," said Mortensen waving his hand, "nothing to concern you."

"Did...did something hurt my ship?"

"We do not know-"

"Yes you do! You said, the storm, HE caused it!"

"I lost my temper. Please do not read into my aspersions, we will have time to assume blame on others when we are safe."

"Aye, agreed," said the orca muttering, "let's just hope we can make a signal tae passing ships."

"Speaking of, hey, fireboy," Travers snapped his fingers to Hasan, "you wanna help make me a signal fer ships?"

"I just sat down-"

"Iiiii uh really need yer help with this, c'mon pard."

"...alright."

Sensing the urgent twang in the southerner's voice, the komodo hoisted himself up and followed Travers to the end of the beach. Other members of the crew started to inch away from the captain and first mate, the mood dropping cold as the shriek of an arctic gale tore across the lonesome sea.

Searching further inland, Claude along with Bart and several other sailors started to hunt and call out for the remaining crew, barking names into the distance that were soon lost to the sounds of the sea, roaring as the froth would dash against the rocks that circled the isle.

"WILLIAM! WILLIAM THACKERAY!"

"MANUEL! ALBERTO, WHERE ARE YA?!"

"WE'RE DOWN AT THE SHORE HERE, COME ON ANSWER US!"

"Mr. Thulsson?"

"Yes?" the croc turned to the young gecko.

"Are you going to be alright, out here with your wounds?"

"What wounds?"

"Your...face."

He pointed shyly to the snout wrapped in thick gauze.

"It's largely a flesh wound," Thulsson shrugged, "I just need to keep it clean but thank you for asking."

"What...happened, if I may ask?"

"I was stabbed, multiple times, down the length of it."

"O-OH!" Bickerson gasped clutching his face. "Oh...god that sounds terrible I am so sorry-"

"It's fine." He patted Bart's shoulder. "The ones who stabbed me are dead, that makes me happy."

"R-really? I wouldn't think you would be joyed."

"Joy is the absence of pain." His smile widened with his snout. "another lesson I will teach you, Bartholomew."

"Well...not that I'm not honoured, I very much am but, why would you put that much effort into me?"

"Why would anyone put effort in a blank sheaf, or a canvas? It's not the body that matters, it's what it becomes. Now, let me tell you a secret, for your kindness."

He pulled him to the side away from the other crew, heading close to the centre of the isle as the croc looked about him.

"I already know about this island, things the captain does not even know."

"Wh-what?!"

"I tried to warn him, as you know he made a bet with me, the fool he was and now thanks to him we are dashed and bereft."

"S-sir!" Bart clutched his mouth. "Y-you, you shouldn't say such things about the captain-"

"Boy."

His hand gripped the top of his head as Bart suddenly felt his tightening fingers.

"We are no longer a ship, therefore we have no captain. This island summoned the storm that brought us here, because of the captain's friend whose own obsession lured us to our fate."

"Wh-what, what do you mean?"

"There is a small green box that first mate Pratt has in his possession. Inside is an object, do not open the box, just bring it to me."

"Why? Why would he-"

"Bartholomew." Claude put his hands firmly on his shoulders with a deep stare. "Would you doubt one such as I, so learned of the winds and the sea?"

"N-no...you did keep me safe in the storm."

"Because I knew that it would come, despite my warnings to the captain."

"That is true, you did."

"So why doubt me now?"

"...it just seems all a coincidence," the gecko rubbed his arm.

"It is not, I can tell you," Claude shook his head, "the captain and his first mate's arrogance brought them here, now I shall make amends, so bring me the box. And I promise, the crew shall find freedom."

His words had such a strength he had never heard from any in his life that Bart struggled not to believe him. His voice of a rumbling depth soothed his rabbit heart, beating faster than the waves of the sea as he nodded firmly.

"Alright, I'll help you sir."

"Good boy." He stroked down the seaman's chest. "Return to me here once you obtained it."

On the beach by the flames, Pratt's face lit up with sunken eyes towards his captain, sitting with his long silver head gleaming beside the fire as he looked down at his torn outfit. The old navy blue now tattered upon his front, ripped and severed with gouges showing parts of his staunch thick muscular chest.

"Whut you want me tae say?"

Pratt turned towards him after a few minutes silence.

"Are you angry cuz of whut we did, or whut we became?"

"You endangered my career," Mortensen snarled, "I was a distinguished officer of the United States Navy, and you disgraced me with that opium-infested trinket."

"Ah didnae ken it would dae that!" Thomas spread his arms. "We were explorin' new lands, it wuz part o' the expedition, you said you liked it!"

"NO excuses!" he thrust his finger towards him. "Whatever I said back then is perjury to myself, you shamed us in front of our commanding officer when we were SUPPOSED to be reputable sailors!"

"You didnae stop."

The orca shrugged with a lick of his lips.

"Gave you plenty chances tae stop, an' ah got rid of it when you telt me tae, but it came back. Ah swear to you Barrett, ah didnae keep it, I promise you, on my grave I got rid of it."

"How can I trust you?" the captain shook his head. "Why would I believe you now?"

"Well why am I here? Why'd you even have me on this ship with ye, why keep me aroond runnin' sum auld fishing junk?"

He turned silent. The captain rubbed his sleeve and gave a look that Thomas had only seen once before. A soft gasp escaped his lips as he clasped his hands and sat in the cold sands to stare at the flame.

h i s h e a r t i s s c r e a m i n g

The orca clutched his head.

h e w a n t s y o u r f l e s h a g a i n

He shook even harder.

l e t m e t a s t e y o u

"N-no."

t a k e h i s f l e s h l i k e y o u b e g g e d h i m t o

"SHUT UP!"

He slammed his fist into the dirt and grabbed the accursed box.

"YOU'VE HOUNDED ME FER THE LAST TIME YOU BASTARD!"

Pratt tossed it like a football into the dirt, bowing his head deeper as Mortensen sighed leaning back to stare at the stars. None of them were out, which only worried him more as neither of them would see the shadow of the gecko sneaking up to grab the box and scurry off into the night. The men around the fire started to fall asleep from exhaustion, the cold winds turning them restless as they huddled and fidgeted close to each other in their remaining clothes.

Further down the shore closer to the sea, Travers was rigging up a pole to keep buried in the sand with Hasan building a lantern case. Against the freezing burn of the Arctic Ocean that ripped into their lungs, the two shivered trying to finish their work as fast they could.

"G-g-god, d-dammit I miss roastin' mah nuts."

"You like n-nuts?" the komodo looked to him shuddering. "I-i, my father, made a v-very good salad with n-n-nuts."

"HHHheh, HEH, y-yer a funny one aintcha?!"

"I am?"

"I reckon so, how's the lantern?"

The dragon produced a small metal cage, the pieces of glass windows he had salvaged now tightly wound together against steel scrap with a firm rope as Travers whistled through his fangs.

"Daaaaamn Hasan, next thing you'll be catching weasels wi' them fancy fingers!"

"Hahah, thank you." He placed it on the pole as they hoisted it high. "Now we pray a ship finds us."

"You pray to your god I'll pray to mine," the snake nudged his arm, "that way we double our chances!"

"HAH, hahah, alright, double chances-A-AAAAGH!"

"S-SWEET JEHEEZUS!"

A violent blast of shocking purple tore through the sky, bursting with neon violet that blinded them as they fell on their backs from the shrieking boom of a shockwave that covered the sky. At first they thought they had gone deaf when stumbling back up, trying to shake their heads free of the ringing sound before they looked to the ocean. The waters had turned still. Not a single wave touched the shore.

"What...j-just happened?" Travers gasped stepping back.

"I...I don't know," Hasan whispered, "I cannot hear a thing."

"Me either...shit, ya think the cap'n's alright?"

"We should check!"

They ran back to the campsite as fast as they could, the lantern swinging in the gathering breeze as the clouds above turned into waves that tore across the sky, swirling faster upon a central point of the isle as fear grew in their hearts. The captain was gone, along with Pratt and all the other men before Travers spotted a shadow heading off.

"THAT WAY, C'MON PARD!"

"What demon could cause this?" the engineer gasped at the gathering dark. "This is the work of ghouls, surely."

"Whoever it is they're gettin' my foot up their ass!" he pulled out a hunting knife from his belt and swished it in his hand. "Good thing I got my ol' Arkansas toothpick right here."

"I have this," Hasan showed the steel pipe he still carried, "let us go, Travers."

Armed and dangerous they hurried after the fleeting shadow, heading to where the clouds met at the island's nexus as they hoofed it over hills and across blackened dunes when they saw more of their crew mates following the light. At the centre was a pillar of black obsidian, grand and looming above with strange patterns that the crew did not comprehend as the light of flaming amethyst beamed from the top of it. Symbols that the longer they stared at, the more tingling they felt in their skulls like a tuning fork being pushed through their brain.

"Whut...the christ issat?" Thomas widened his eyes.

"I...I do not know." Barrett clutched his head. "But...the symbols they look fa...f-familiar-NNNGH!"

"Cap'n!?" He grabbed his arm. "Cap'n you alrigh'?!"

"I-i...I...n-no, no don't look!"

"Look at whut, it's just sum...someone......he sees me."

The pillar started to sing.

"He sings to me. The idol. The idol brought me."

Each one of them turned to their friend.

"The idol we saw, the idol we heard, the idol we felt inside us."

"What are you-" Mortensen stepped back as Thomas looked to him, "Th-thomas, Thomas no!"

"He told me yer heart...it screams for me Barrett."

The captain stumbled back but the orca grabbed his arms and suddenly pulled him close. Their lips met with a struggle as his tongue plunged into the whale's mouth, his muffled cries soon fading in his throat when the thick suckling started against his cheeks from the orca's bulging tongue that squirmed deep down his throat. The song from the pillar became a deafening shriek, rising to a pitch just beyond their hearing as their hearts began to tighten along with their pants.

Travers and Hasan watched from the far back at the scene unveiling, the last to be affected by the infernal cry of the pillar that caused them to grab their heads with a piercing scream. The sound burrowed inside their heads with a whisper, the voice of someone they knew in the language of their youth, someone they had never known and yet had always known. Travers suddenly recalled the first wet dream he ever had, a burning shame crossing his face as he felt a lurch in his pants so sudden he almost buckled from the rush of blood.

"G-GAH! G-god...damn, you seein' this shit Hasan?!"

"The...the idol."

The komodo turned to him.

"The idol...I hear your heart...begging for my flesh."

"U-u-uhhh, pard?! Hass, wh-whut're you-WOAH!"

The dragon pounced on him with his full weight, pinning the snake to the floor before he suddenly kissed him. Travers was stunned with no time to resist as the forked tongue dragged across his and slowly entwined with his own, the first suck dooming him to his lust that grew thick within his crotch as he felt Hasan's grinding meat.

He tasted his warm breath, their eyes half-closed as the song kept ringing in their heads to just on the edge of painful as their minds became clouded with a burning need that overwhelmed every rational thought, the symbols of the pillar flashing in their memories every seven seconds to stop them from remembering. Travers whimpered as he suckled Hasan's tongue, sliding his hands behind his smooth large neck and thrusting his crotch against him as a signal that he answered.

"T-take me," he gasped when their lips parted smothered in drool, "god take me, pard."

"Yes." His hand slipped down to his overalls. "I will take you, as a brother."

A smile grew upon their lips from some unseen memory, tearing open their trousers as the komodo slapped his fat 8-inch length of dark brown meat across the smaller rattler's shaft with its trembling copper head. Travers rolled over to lift his rump and expose a fine dark puckered hole beneath his long rattling tail. Crawling up in an instant Hasan slammed himself in, the sudden thrust spreading his friend wide as Travers screamed with a blissful relief.

"A-AAAAAGH! AAAH, G-GOD, BREED ME HASAN! BREED ME LIKE A D-DAMN MARE!"

Hasan fucked him thusly, pumping his hips into the sweet scaly rear as any pain or discomfort was silenced by the song of the pillar, its shrill concerto numbing ttheir nerves until only pleasure existed, beckoning the komodo to fuck his crewmate harder without even trying to build up to it as the sound of thick slapping scales started to fill the island centre.

Thirty men who landed on that shore would find themselves in deep coitus, the other ten they hadn't found just waiting on the other side of the pillar in darkness as they joined their brothers in a lustful union. The chef porpoise roughly pounded a dolphin seaman; the iguana engineers who worked under Hasan were spitroasted by belugas; and the purser who was once a sour-faced humpback, was on his knees getting facefucked gleefully by a wiry salamander helmsman.

Across the length of the hills men would fuck each other, insatiable with burning lust as their moans, their gasps and even their squeals of rapture filled the sky with the glowering pillar burning deep into their minds. They knew who they were, their minds still recalled their names, their service and what they were doing. But they loved it. They couldn't stop fucking the crewmates they had known only for weeks, but the most desperate cries were that of Thomas and Mortensen.

"M-MMMMPH, AAAAH!"

"G-god...god help me," Barrett shuddered, "the...the idol...I do not...I do not want to bend to it but god does it not feel good."

"J-just like...last time," Pratt whispered in his ear as they kissed roughly again, "you need it, it knows you need it an' ah do."

"Yes...well...at least, I am already damned."

He slipped down his pants, then realising their state he tore them off in a hard shred leaving him half-naked amongst his crew. With the last of his strength, the captain walked towards the pillar showing his swinging huge cock of a solid 12 inches from his prodigious cetacean form before lifting his fluked tail, turning himself round to show his spotted behind and its winking hole to his first mate.

"Do it Thomas. Disgrace me like before, you pitiful bastard."

The orca ripped off his tattered trousers and raced up towards him, his pulsing length of 9 inches shining brief in the sinister light before he slammed into his superior, hoisting his tail and fucking him ruthlessly against the cold unearthly stone. The feeling of rubber beneath his fingers covered the pillar itself, but Barrett was more concerned from Thomas pumping deep into his ass with a ball-slapping force that made his legs sting with a gentle quiver, and a moan trembling from his throat.

"HA-AAAH! AAAAH! Th-thomas...god, damn you I missed this."

"NNNGH, AAAARGH, I missed this too, ah thought it wuz just me!"

"N-no, no I...aaaah, don't stop, sodomise your captain, that's an order!"

"Yes SIR!"

Grabbing the sperm whale's hips he slammed even harder with all his strength, punching his insides with a plunging spear that drove deep against his prostate, causing Barrett to spurt on the pillar with drenching pre faster than he expected with a cry of bliss. The captain jerked himself off with drunken eyes of heavy lust, panting as he dribbled down his fingers whilst Thomas licked across his cheek, his breaths shivering down the side of his head with every pump to the hilt he made.

"Excellent."

The voice of Claude whispered in Bartholomew's ear.

"You have done well...such obedience you have."

"H-h-haaah, a-aaaah, s-s-sir!"

"Is it not a wonderful thing, to lose such objections of society and embrace this freedom?"

"N-NNNGH, AAAAAGH!"

"I need not tell you, that this is a better world for you and your friends than the one that awaits you back at shore."

His hands gripped the gecko's sides as he slammed him down upon his lap, the croc watching from a higher peak towards the frantic orgy whilst Bart rode deep on his shaft, pumping his lithe virgin rump with thicker slaps of his moist green thighs and a smile from his bandaged snout.

"Mmmmph, such a tight thing you are Bartholomew."

"A-AAAH!"

"I am quite honoured to be your first...even when I am old enough to be your father."

"S-SIR, HAAAH!"

"Perhaps one day you will call me...when you are inducted properly as my disciple."

Sliding one hand down towards the youthful cock, he stroked him off as they watched from their view and heard the sounds of rampant sex through a rising cacophony of gasps, whimpers and moans that almost clashed against the song of the burning violet pillar. Bart felt his climax approaching, his body clenching against Thulsson's cock that wormed its way inside his body and started to tickle his prostate with a slithering grasp, almost like a tendril that teased him in his most sensitive regions untouched until now.

"A-AAAAAAGH, AAAAGH M-MISTER THULSSOOOOON!"

Screaming to the heavens with a gasping smile, young Bickerson came with adorable spurt that Claude angled to spray onto the boy's body, smothering his coat in jizz as he roared an unearthly sound when he came in turn. The thickening seed that drenched Bart's insides made him gasp with eyes bulging as wide as saucers, heart fluttering brief from the elation as his belly was filled with thick liquid heat.

"MMmmmmrrrrh... good."

His voice dipped to a beastly snarl into his ear.

" Now you are mine as if you were my son. The mark of Phnako'ktis carries within you."

"Y-y-yes...yes, sir." He leaned back to kiss his snout. "Th-thank you sir...I loved it, it felt...b-better than anything."

" Of course it did. Those who travel across the sea shall know their home lies beneath."

His hand slipped down the boy's chest to pull him close with possessive fingers.

" Barrett Sirkham-Mortensen did not account for when his companion found a relic we thought was lost, stolen from us by the astral serpents and kept as a trophy in the ruins beneath."

He pointed towards the top of the pillar where a triangular shape could be seen fitting into the top, the size of a beer bottle from where the flames of lust unnatural came spewing from.

" But now it returns, and so we wait for our brothers who have long since hungered for the warmth of you."

"Wait, b-brothers?" said Bart looking back to the crowd. "Do you have, family here, Mr. Thulsson?"

" All who live in the sea are my family, Bartholomew. And now...you, are family too."

He stroked the back of his fingers across the gecko's cheek before the idol boomed a different song, much deeper in tone that made the water start to broil with a bubbling cold shudder as the earth started to quake beneath their feet. From the campsite where the fires still burned, they saw the shoreline move. Bart tried to squint closer as he saw the sand shifting faster, heading inland as he made out the shapes of creatures emerge from the sea and lumber towards the orgy.

Travers would be first to spot them with his peerless sight, despite being buggered by Hasan who rutted him like a dog and pumped his second climax into him with unceasing force until the snake grinded his knees in the dirt. His legs dribbled of komodo cum as the engineer gasped with a whimpering bliss, matched only by Travers beneath who came with a spraying of serpent jizz upon the black rubbery soot.

"G-god...d-damn, I-i can't stop, I need...m-more, Hasan please I need it agai-...wh-what...who're they?"

The briefest moment of self-awareness came through the navigator's mind when he saw the horrors that awaited them. A horde of monstrous folk, at least 50 in total with fins cresting their faces and covered in wet scales so different to that of reptiles by their most lugubrious nature. Some had faces from the deepest ocean, long pale lips and soulless eyes with jagged teeth set inches apart whilst others resembled sharks with long pointed heads and several rows of fangs. But there was no fear. The idol had taken that from them the moment they submitted.

"You want...breed us too?" Travers grinned flicking his forked tongue. "Alrigh'...I hear ya, brothers of the sea we are, a-aren't we?!"

"Yes, of course," Hasan smiled with unblinking grin, "we are all brothers here please, make us yours!"

The horde from the sea spoke in no language they understood. But the scent of lust was all they needed as each monster sported a long tapering erection almost resembling an eel with its slenderous length. They lumbered forth and grabbed the sailors with a vicious grace, slamming their thick rubbery cocks into any and every hole that was available before them.

Travers swallowed his first dick as his long neck helped it slide down easy, the komodo still fucking him unabated with a shark on top of him gleefully pounding his rear in turn which added more savage strength to the brutish pumping into the helmsman's slutty rear, his tail rattling sharp with each slap the two made as Hasan sucked another fattening length when a fishbeast grabbed his head and throatfucked him with hunger in its pallid eyes.

Across the island nexus beneath the eternal gaze of the great idol itself, the cold deep flesh of the watchers from the sea met warm cetacean scale, shark skin dragged across leathery scales as the crew were gangfucked to a stupor. There was never less than two beasts per crewman; some spitroasted back and forth; some getting fucked with two in the rear and others simply used as cumdumps for several cocks jerking off into their faces. But every man was left dripping from both ends by the end of this night.

"H-HAAAH, AAAAH, MORE, M-MORE MY DEAR BROTHERS!"

"NNNNGH, GOD, h-h-harder, harder m-make me taste nothing but yer milk!"

Thomas and Mortensen were not spared either from the crusade as they found themselves in a nest of sharks. Great whites, tigers, mako and the salmon-headed beast that snuck in amongst them, the whale held up by his legs with his back against the pillar as two cocks slammed into his ass with his fluke dangling down still dripping of Thomas' cum. One monster sucked on his dick with snarling moans of guttural bliss, whilst two more jerked off either side of his face to splatter thick pre onto his long head with gasping mouth trying to catch their seed before it tainted his uniform, his voice once calm with authority now a frantic babbling mess.

"A-AAAH! AAAAGH, GOD, deeper, f-fill me deeper, make me your whore, I BEG YOU, FILL ME, FILL ME 'TIL I'M RUINED!"

His first mate was in just the same, a shark with tailfin slamming him down on his lengthly cock whilst three other fish pumped their shafts in front of his face, the orca sucking them off individually and slobbering with desperate panting breaths and slickening spit between each throbbing head.

"Th-thank you, thank you f-fer coming back, ah missed you, ah needed this again, I'll never leave ye again ah promise, I promise h-haaah, A-AAAAGH!"

They came on his face, painting strips of thick white across his half-black features as he slammed his thick rump against the shark underneath him, riding of his own will with heavier slaps of his tail against the seabeast's shoulder. That didn't stop him from sucking the others off, licking his face clean before pumping on each of them again with a ravenous hunger awakening in him. Far above the orgy of madness, sitting on the peak, Claude Thulsson remained with his new minion still riding his shaft.

" Is it not a perfect union?" his voice trembled like the tsunami. " The landwalkers who so love the sea, now find its love in return."

"Wh-what...what's going to happen, after this?" Bickerson panted bucking against him.

" You will join us."

He turned the young lad round on his lap with his cock still grinding deep into his walls.

" Our family grows in strength, as told by our father Phnako'ktis."

"D-does this mean-A-AAAAGH!" He almost spurted with a dribble down his shaft. "Th-that we won't be going...b-back to shore?"

" What life had you back on the shore, where names are discarded and you are branded as a simpleton?"

"I-i...well...I don't want anyone to be hurt by...all of this-haaaah!"

" Do you not hear the cries of joy, from my brothers and yours Bartholomew?"

"Yes...I do!"

" Then you are us. And we are you. My flesh is yours to receive, Bartholomew Bickerson. As son, disciple..."

He pulled the cloth from his face.

" As brother to the depths. Ph'nglui mglw'nafh, Phnako'ktis H'nzha."

Bart trembled with joy as he leaned forwards to kiss.

" Nagl fhtagn, nagl fhtagn...Ia. Ia, ry'gzengrho. Ia, Phnako'ktis."

The first time he saw Claude's face would be the last he saw of the crocodile's face. Before their lips met it would twist and contort, moulting from its solid length to sprout with a dozen tentacles that wrapped round his skull and pulled him deep into the depths of lust. Their pact was sealed with a kiss, and Claude came inside his disciple once again in tribute, to their eternal Father.