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Will of the Wisp

He messed up.

He messed up.

He....

Messed...

Up....

The skies were clear when they set out that morning. They were just gonna head out where the fish were at their thickest. Clams, oysters, muscles; mollusks of all kind were ripe for the taking. They just needed to head out over the eastern waves, and they'll be at Fern's Reef. Fish for a day or two, three days max, and they'll be home with edible gold.

The only thing is...

He messed up...

He remembered the winds first. The water was cool and calm, only to pick up; faster and faster with each passing moment. Then he remembered the powerful rocking, as the once still waves became violent and turbulent. Their vessel wasn't used to such winds; they were a mere fishing barge that barely went out more than few miles off cost. But the moment those winds started picking up, they didn't go down.

They got stronger. And they never stopped getting stronger.

He didn't remember much about what happened next. All that comes are brief glimpses and flashes. He remembered Captain Basil shouting something at him. He remembered Fisherman Tailor getting knocked off his feet. He definitely remembered water. Lots of water. He remembered when it came roaring on the deck. He remembered when it came shattering through the windows. He remembered watching everyone get knocked off his feet.

Then he remembered nothing. He was swore he did something – perhaps trying to stop their rocking ship – but it was all fruitless anyway. They were nothing but a paper ship against the whims of nature. There was nothing they could do except pray to whatever gods they worshiped that they could make it out of this alive.

Their prayers were not answered.

“Hggnnnghh... mmmphh...!”

All around him were calm waters... and the signs of destruction. Debris from a once modest ship, now laid strewn across the ocean waves as nothing more than blithering pieces of driftwood. There were some other objects around – ropes, pieces of their ships crane, even a few crates – but nothing one could possibly hope to salvage. Everything else? It was the bottom of the ocean.

People included...

When the simple fishing vessel named 'Frappes' left the docks, it had a modest crew of about fifteen men. Now – two days later – there was only one.

And that 'one' was soon to be come 'none'.

Victor. Victor Bern. Vic to his friends. He could be snarky. He could be cool. He could be annoying at times. But most would call him reliable. A tall young man, he almost always had this cool look in his green eyes, and this annoying, some would say even punchable grin on his lips. But dammit, if you needed some help around town, he was the first person you'd ask. Brown hair with a goatee on his chin, and a fit, active physique of a body, he always exuded this aura of coyness to him. As if everything he did came easy, and he never really had to put in that much effort, even when the opposite was true. That's just the kind of guy he was.

But that's not who he was right now. No, that cool, somewhat cocky, aloof young man... was barely clinging to life.

On the cold, silent, ocean waves, one could hear him wincing in pain as he clung to his drifting piece of wood. That is, of course, if anyone was actually around. When he brought his gaze up from the wooden surface beneath him, he saw nothing but the destroyed boat around him, and the near endless waters of the night-dripped ocean. Above was the moon, gazing upon the horrendous sight without care for his suffering. And all he could do was growl as blood dripped from his lips.

Blasted universe... what had he done to deserve this? What had any of them done to deserve this? They were just fishermen! Nothing more, nothing less! And now, children weren't going to see their fathers, wives were going to miss their husbands, parents were going to lose their sons. And he... he'd be one of them.

For the past two days, Vic had been drifting out here, nothing more than the ocean's plaything. He didn't eat anything for there wasn't anything to eat, and he wasn't stupid nor desperate enough to start drinking sea water.

Didn't matter anyway... one more day of this, and this piece of driftwood would be carrying nothing more than a corpse.

For many, this was the time their life would flash before their eyes, forcing them to rethink their existence, and wonder if anything they'd done up to this point was worth it. For Vic, he found himself being less humble, and more defiant. Beneath this breath, he shouted all sorts of obscenities, directing them to whoever came to his mind. He cursed his father, he cursed his mother, he cursed his captain for asking for his aid, he cursed the heavens, he cursed God, but above all, he cursed himself. Because he knew this was all his fault.

He messed up...

And it was with that thought in mind that his vision began wavering. Staring out over the calm ocean waves, he looked off to the distance as exhaustion took hold of him. These may be the very last breaths he took, so he might as well comment this sight to memory. It was a little beautiful. The silent waters, with the moon reflected upon their surface. If he saw this on a post card or something, he'd find it kinda cool.

Heh...

But...

There was a light glowing upon the surface of the water. A white, glittering, whispy light, one that fluttered and bounced like an eerie fire. Up and down it jiggled upon the surface of the water, before coming closer... and closer... and closer...

Vic reached out for the light as it came into view, his eyes blinking to help his gaze focus. And as the blurriness of exhaustion began fading away, he came to realize that the light... wasn't a light. It was a fin.

A shark's fin.

“Oh... boy... you've gotta be kidding me...” he muttered to himself as his eyes closed shut, “A fucking... shark... aahhhhhhhh...”

Weak. He was far too weak to continue. He couldn't even think anymore, let alone see. But just before he passed out, he heard the water before him break with a--

Blurrp...

Followed by a...

“Hmmmm...”

…

Grrrrrnnnnnnn...! Grrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnngggg...! Grrrrnnngggggnnnnrrrrrrnngggrrrrnn!

“Hm...?”

Was that... metal? He was hearing... metal? The sound of metal clanking and grinding against metal? Gotta say... he didn't think the afterlife would sound so... mechanical.

Green eyes fluttered open, relaying a groggy and blurry vision. Above him, he saw a brown ceiling... and a whirring ceiling fan. A whirring... ceiling fan? They have ceiling fans in the afterlife? That doesn't make any sense! What, was he hanging out in some waiting room? What the hell was going on here!?

Gripping the back of his head, Vic leaned up to get a better view of the room he was in... where it quickly became clear that, no, this wasn't the afterlife. He wasn't laying on some lofty bed in some metaphysical realm. He was laying on a dingy military cot, in an equally as dingy chamber, one that had rusted walls, rusted floors, and a rusted roof. Items were messily strewn all over the place, all of which looked to be military paraphernalia, though he couldn't get a good enough view from where he was.

Oh yeah... and he was naked. Not completely naked mind you – he had coils and gauze wrapped around his body in certain areas – but his drenched clothes had been completely removed. Springing up, Vic covered himself with the covers given to him, only to wince and nearly fall over.

Yup, his body was still in pain. A lot of pain! It reverberated through his body, and rung in his skull like he had a massive headache! Or – more accurately – he had a wicked hangover.

But, whoa, whoa, whoa, one thing a time here, like, where the fuck was he!? This wasn't Heaven, or Hell, or even Purgatory! This was more like some abandoned military bunker! How the hell did he get here? And what about his clothes and these coils? It's like someone patched him up, and... gotta say, they did a rather good job of it! He was tightly wound, a bit uncomfortable in certain areas yeah, but he'd rather be uncomfortable than, ya'know, dead.

What happened? How did he get here? Did someone find him and bring him here? Then... where were they, and where even was 'here' at?

Against all sanity, Vic pulled himself off the cot he was resting on and planted his feet on the ground... where he immediately fell over with a loud 'THUD!' Gritting his teeth and groaning, he grabbed upon a nearby table and pulled himself up, realizing that his time drifting out at sea had sapped most of the strength in his limbs. He could barely stand, let alone walk!

But no one said Vic was ever a logical man. As hardheaded now as he had ever been, he forced himself upon his feet by grabbing upon random objects in the room, using them to help himself move over towards this room's door. Pushing it open, he stepped out into the hall... only to immediately fall back with another loud--

THUD!

“Aahh! Dammit! Rrrggh...!”

Yup... it was gonna be a bit hard getting around until the strength returned in his legs. But, hey, at least he found his pants. They were lazily strewn on the edge of a nearby chair. Not only that, but they were dry, much to his confusion. Just how long had he been in here?

Pulling his pants on as best he could, Vic again fought to get onto his unsteady feet. Thankfully, the halls outside had banisters on the wall, ones he used to help maintain his footing.

Slowly Vic stalked down the halls of the rusted hall, his gaze looking around in search for anything that would give him an idea of where he was. Things were surprisingly neat here, lacking trash and grime, save for rust and other natural erosion. The walls were also devoid of any detail however, lacking any symbols, or flags, or whatever. If this was indeed a military base, then he hoped to find something telling him what nation it belonged to. Instead he saw... claw marks.

As if someone really hated who this belonged to.

Natural light was in the distance, coming from the sun as it gleamed through cracks and holes in the walls and ceiling. Attracted by them, Vic walked down the hall, still clinging to the banister for support, but feeling life start to pulse in his legs. Further and further he pushed down the hall, coming to realize that this was indeed a military installation of some sort. Specifically, it was a submarine. A very old, very forgotten submarine, one that was half submerged in water.

“Jeeze... where the hell am I...?” Vic muttered to himself before shouting out, “HELLO! IS ANYONE THERE!? I'M AWAKE! WHOEVER IT IS THAT SAVED ME! I... I GUESS...?”

His roaring questions fell on deaf ears however; no responses came. Frustrated, Vic pushed deeper into the bowls of the submarine, seeing signs that someone indeed lived here. There were lights gleaming, with various generators humming in dry locations to keep the submarine powered on some degree. He also passed areas that he could consider the submarine's kitchen, where there was a microwave, a refrigerator, and a table, all of which looked to have been used often.

But that's all it was; signs that someone lived here. Where was that someone? Who did he have to thank for saving him? Vic kept pushing, coming to where the natural light was at its strongest, and that was at the submarine's command center.

Looking around, he clung to the disused and broken command consoles of the station, confused about his location and how he got here. But... what the hell was this submarine even doing here anyway? Wherever 'here' was, of course. Going by its age, it was safe to assume it had been here for a decade or two, maybe three, and that it probably suffered a battle of some sort that caused it to crash and fall to disuse.

But what battle? With who? How long ago? And again, where? There were no answers in this place. No military maps, no documents, no nothing that could give him a hint as to who this submarine belonged to, where it was located, and what happened to it. All he got was the sunlight gleaming through its shattered hull, illuminating him.

Walking forward, he stood on the edge of the submarine and looked out across the distance, his eyes falling on near endless ocean waves among jutting rock formations. That answered some of his questions; the submarine was caught in a trench of some sort. Perhaps it sank beneath the water years ago, and the shifting tides revealed it?

But that wouldn't explain the signs that someone lived here recently, what with the generators and the relatively new microwave and refrigerator in the kitchen. This place was clearly lived in by someone, but Vic didn't know who that 'someone' was! And that made things more frustrating to him!

“HEEEEEYYYY!!!” he shouted out to the endless oceans before him, “I'M AWAKE NOW!!! WHERE ARE YOU!?!?!?”

Bloooop...

“Huh?”

Vic's eyes dropped down, falling on nearby pool of water hanging to the right of the submarine. Staring at it, he watched as the sleek fin of a fish appeared momentarily, before diving back beneath the waves. He flinched and pulled back, recognizing the fin as a shark's fin.

A shark's fin...? Wait... wasn't that the last thing he saw before he passed out? Maybe he was jumping to conclusions, but he felt as if there was something about this fin – something about this shark – that required further investigation.

With strength returning to his legs, Vic ambled his way towards a nearby walkway which extended out of the shattered hull of the submarine; more proof that this place was someone's makeshift home. There was even a banister that extended alongside the walkway, one he clung too for support.

Step after step, he descended down the staircase, leading him towards one of the submarine's horizontal fin. It hung right above a lip of water, where it was clear that someone often arrived and left from this specific point. And that someone...

Swwiiish... swwiiiish... bloooop...

Was coming closer.

The shark fin appeared again, cutting through the water like a knife through tender meat. Closer... closer... closer... but Vic showed no fear or apprehension. He had wizened up by now. Whoever this shark was, he knew they were responsible for his safety. So he stood his ground, watching as this being came to a halt right in front of them.

The water was murky, so murky that he couldn't see the face of the shark beneath it. But he could feel their eyes, glaring at him like some so anomaly. The shark waded beneath the ocean's surface for several long, drawn out seconds... before finally raising its hand.

Its... hand?

Thump!

Vic stepped back while the water before him broke and cascaded, revealing... a woman. A shark woman. A shark beastkin. Her scales were a tan color, with a white belly, and browner stripes running upon her back. From her head spilled white hair, which flowed and flowed and flowed, all the way down to her hips. It was wild and free, curling about in wicked strands that flowed without end.

She was tall. Taller than Vic, and that's saying something considering his height. While he was no muscular bodybuilder or something like that, he had a respectable physique to him. But this woman? She was an outright amazon. From the muscles on her arms and shoulders, the power in her thighs, the toned core of her slim waistline, she clearly had a history of hard manual labor. No doubt thanks to all the hunting she does in these violent waves.

And that's not getting into her chest. Her very busty chest. Perhaps he wouldn't focus so hard on it, had she not been wearing such light clothing. Around her shoulders was wrapped a tattered black cloak, one that was opened to flaunt her body as it wavered in the wind. Meanwhile, her chest was covered in a leather bra, and her pelvis in leather shorts... and that's about it.

The shark loomed over Vic, her statuesque body stunning him to silence as she ran her hand through her hair. And that slight gesture attracted his gaze back to her face. Her sharp, quizzical, belittling face. And on that face were a set of eyes that... that just looked otherworldly.

Black sclera instead of white, irises that shifted from blue to white, and slit pupils like those of a snake. They were a kind of eyes that looked... paranormal. Less like he was staring at a person, and more like he was staring at a...

At a...

A gho...

“You... are you okay?” asked the woman, her stirring voice sending a shiver down his spine, “Sorry I wasn't here when you woke up... Victor...”

“Victor... how did you now who I...?”

“I read it on your wallet,” said the woman as she pulled the hood of her cloak off of her head, further freeing her luscious white hair, “Victor Bern, right?”

“Uhhh... oh! Yeah, yeah, the name's Victor... but...” he struggled to his feet, “You can call me Vic... Miss...? Uhh... what's your name?”

“Willow... just Willow,” said the shark as she cracked a few bones in her neck, “You okay, Victor? You were pretty banged up when I found you. If I was an hour or two too late, you might've been dead.”

“Found me...?” he repeated, before his eyes widened, “Ah! You are the one who found me! You're a... wow...” then he looked over her shoulder, paying attention to the fins on her back, and thick tail dragging against the ground, “Holy shit... you're a shark...”

“Just now realizing that?” said Willow sarcastically as she placed her hands on her hips.

“No, that's... I mean...” he shook his head, “It's just that... where I'm from, beastkin are rare. And a marine beastkin too... a shark... sorry, guess I'm just a bit awestruck... um...” he offered her his hand, “Thanks for saving me.”

She looked at him and his hapless face, then down to his outstretched hand. Raising an eyebrow, something about Willow appeared... incredulous at first. But then several seconds later, a smile appeared on her lips, and she gripped his hand into hers, shaking it.

“Don't mention it, Vic,” she muttered.

“Heh... ah! But... wait...” he looked at her in a concerned manner, “My boat... I wasn't alone when that storm whipped up and destroyed everything. Is there... hh... was there anyone else you saw? Did you find anyone else?”

Willow shook her head.

“Sorry Vic. I found you, and only you,” she answered, much to his disappointment.

“Y-yeah... I... haah... I figured you'd say that. Um...”

His eyes closed, thinking about the men who got on that boat with him. They were all just going on a simple fishing trip; nothing more, nothing less. But now the boat was destroyed, and everyone he knew was dead. Just thinking about it made Vic's hand curl into a fist, frustrated and upset.

This was all his doing. He messed up. All of those men wouldn't see their families, because he messed up. Why did he get to survive? Why did they have to die for his mistake? If he had just been more accurate with his details, then this wouldn't have happened!

But...

“Hey...” Willow suddenly said, drawing his gaze up, “It's not your fault.”

“Wh... what?” Vic said, confused by her statement.

But Willow didn't elaborate any further, instead shifting her gaze towards the staircase beside him.

“Let's go. You're hungry, right? I got you water, but I couldn't feed you while you were unconscious. Here, I'll get you something when we're indoors, though...” a smile spread out on her lips, “I hope you like fish. Since you know what a shark is, then you also must know that we only eat fish. Promise though, I can cook the stuff.”

“Uhh... um....”

Looking down, Vic tried to decipher what Willow said. What did she mean by 'It's not your fault'? Was she talking about the boat's destruction? If so, then how would she know what was and wasn't his fault? Maybe she was just trying to reassure him, and her words weren't supposed to be taken too seriously. Like how you'd say 'It's not your fault' to someone who survives a dangerous car crash. Vic wasn't sure if he agreed completely with Willow. If she knew what happened on that boat, she wouldn't be saying those words. Still, the gesture was appreciated, and he smiled at her.

“Thanks...” he said, before...

Grrrrrrgggggkkkhh!!!

Yeeeaaaaaah... he had been drifting on that slab for two days straight. Food would be much appreciated!

…

When she said she had fish, she wasn't playing. The moment that refrigerator opened up, nothing but fish came flying out. Common fish like sea bass, more exotic fish like rainbow trout, and even a swordfish or two! And all of them were hunted by her vicious teeth and claws!

Sitting in the kitchen room table with his hand on his stomach, Vic stared over towards Willow who was at the sink. Water – that is clean water – flowed through the spout as she prepared fish, descaling it with the use of her claws and her claws alone. This submarine – despite being older than Vic by a few decades – worked better than some new cars he's driven. And in the center of it all was Willow.

The shark's cloak had been removed, leaving her in nothing but her leather top and shorts. Left to right she moved with ease, preparing a meal for him with nothing but the use of her hands. She didn't even have any knives or utensils of any sort, instead using the claws of her hand to cut the fish into pieces.

“Are you just gonna sit there and watch me all day, or are you gonna talk?” Willow suddenly asked, taking Vic aback.

“What? Do you have eyes on the back of your head? Should I add that to the list of abilities you have?” he replied in a sarcastic manner, garnering a smirk from her.

“Who knows... maybe,” she replied as she looked at him, “That being said, I can see that you have more than a few questions that you want to ask. So while I make you this food, why don't you go and ask them? Promise, I won't bite. Much.”

“That's not reassuring coming from a shark,” he replied, “Buuuut... I suppose I could talk... it would take my mind off of things. Uuhhh... um...” he closed his eyes, “Oh, I know! Where are we? What is this place? It's a... submarine, right? The hell's a submarine doing out here?”

“Good question. Wish I knew,” Willow answered, “I found this little place among the ridge, bakin' out in the sun. Decided to make it my home. Took a while settin' all of this up though, but it was more than worth it. I hunt around the submarine, so I'm never lackin' for anythin'.”

“Uh-huh... weeell... since this submarine didn't originally belong to you... who did it belong to?” Vic asked next, “I couldn't see any signs around saying what country owns it... or, well, owned it.”

“That's because I destroyed all of them,” Willow answered, “They had some really tacky, ugly flag, I remember. So I clawed them all away, and destroyed everything else. There's no real reason to keep it, ya'know? It's not like that country cares about it anymore. But I think it belonged too...” she stopped for a moment, “Somethin' call... Dangral? Or somethin'? Mudral? I don't know...” she shrugged her shoulders, “Don't worry about it. This sub's been sittin' here for decades now. Since the 80s in fact. If the navy wanted it or whatever, they would have had it by now.”

“I see... huh...” Vic said before shaking his head, “Another question then. Uhhh... so... what, you just live here by yourself?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Willow answered, “It's not like I'm raisin' a family out here on this abandoned sub in the middle of the ocean.”

“I know but... uh...” he shook his head, “You're a shark! And you have this microwave and fridge and stuff. And those generators too! They clearly weren't here on this sub for the past... whatever years, or else none of it would work. So you had to bring them from somewhere. So, like... why are you living here? Why are you living by yourself? Or is this just some... home away from home?”

“Nope. Not a home away from home. It's just a home. I rather like the peace that the solitary lifestyle gives me. Away from the world an all of its bullshit. It's just me out here, and the fish that I hunt. No laws to hold me down, no bills to pay, no bonds to tie me. Freedom, and all of its perks.”

“Huh... I see what you mean but... well... ya'know... isn't it lonely?”

Willow looked at him, a smirk on her lips as her eyes grew sharp. It caused Vic to tense up, wondering if he had said something to offend. But the shark merely shook her head, and then chuckled.

“I really hope you enjoy fish, Vic,” said Willow, “Ships don't come around this area often, nor do I swim out all that far. I'll try and get us in contact with any boat I find, but I wouldn't hold my breath.”

“Tch... easy for you to say, you can breathe underwater.”

His snarky response garnered a chuckle from Willow, one which soon ballooned into full on laughter. It was a hardy-sounding laugh as well, one that would belong to a sailor with its loud and boisterous,

“HAR HAR HAR!!!”

Hearing it made Vic smile, reluctantly at first, but then chuckle... and then laugh.

He may be here in the middle of nowhere, with everyone he knows and love thinking he's dead, but surely it wouldn't be too bad, right?

Right?

…

Wrong.

How long was he out here? How long did he think he'd be out here? A day? Two days? Maybe a week, perhaps two weeks at most! He though that – sooner or later – a boat would come by. Not a big vessel, though that would be nice. Noooo, he was thinking about something smaller, something more modest. Maybe another fishing boat, or perhaps, a military boat? Hell, at this point, he didn't care what country owned it! He just wanted to leave this damned submarine!

This damn submarine...

Day after day after day went by. Vic stayed in the submarine, steadily getting his strength back, while subsisting on a diet of fish and water... and only fish and water. Willow would come with an endless variety of fish, but at the end of the day, fish is fish. And honestly? She wasn't that great a chef. Truth be told, he wasn't that great a chef either.

Having simple fried fish for so many days in a row, is bound to drive any man insane, as Vic was learning. And while he was grateful to Willow for providing for him as he got his strength back, that didn't stop the madness of the situation from getting to him. Assuming, of course, the shark was even there to share the madness with him. On many occasions, Willow wouldn't even show up for days on end!

Loneliness kept building within Victor, causing frustrations to mount. During the day when Willow wasn't there, he'd spend his time toiling in the halls of the submarine in some attempt to stave off insanity. But at night, his dreams were plagued with an ever replaying nightmare.

He messed up...

So he didn't sleep much. Maybe a quick nap here or there, but nothing too extreme. Every time he woke up, he'd hope he'd awaken on the medical bay of a larger ship. Or maybe that this was an extended dream, and that he'd wake up in his bedroom, or on his mother's couch, or in the car, or anywhere but here!

But no... he woke up in the same dingy cot, on the same forgotten submarine, in the same rusted chamber. The only thing that did change was whether or not Willow was around. And if she was around, heh... then things usually didn't get much better...

“Fish... fish... fish... this whole place smells like fucking FISH!!!”

“Well... I am a shark, so what were you expectin'?”

He leaned at the doorway entering into the submarine's main deck, which was pretty much the sub's 'living room'... oddly enough. Most of the time it was empty. Today, it was not.

Willow sat on a nearby command console, one leg over the other, an incredulous look in her eye. Trash littered the floor around her, which was something else Vic learned about the shark. She really loved collecting trash. She didn't call it trash though, instead calling it things like 'treasure'.

But it wasn't treasure. Treasure is things like gold, or diamonds or pearls. No... this was trash. Just random crap Willow collected on her journeys that struck her fancy. At first, Vic didn't notice it, but as the days went by, more and more random junk began populating the submarine. And he was getting sick and tired of it!

First the smell of fish, then the smell of trash!? What next!?

“Ya'know... you look a bit tired, Vicky,” said Willow as she hopped up from the console she was sitting on, “You got bags in your eyes and everything. Maybe you should get some sleep?”

“I'm fucking fine!” he said as he swatted his hand through the air, “And don't call me 'Vicky'! It's just Vic! Just Vic! Or fucking call me Victor if you really want to!”

“Hmmm... why are your panties all in a notch?” Willow asked, garnering a growl from him.

“My panties!? Gah! It's you who keeps leaving her panties everywhere! Jeeze, you live here alone, the lest you can do is put them away while I'm here! I don't want to see your fucking panties everywhere!”

“You're right, I live here alone,” said Willow as she brought over her tail, revealing one of her panties was hanging on her fin, “So if I want to litter my panties everywhere, I can litter my panties everywhere. Jeeze, aren't you a guy? Shouldn't you love gettin' your hands on a ladies knickers?”

“Maybe, but definitely not yours” replied Vic as he shook his head “I've seen your panties so much, it's not even special anymore! Fuck, I've been here for days, and its all the fucking same! I eat fish, drink water, and stay here all by myself! I don't want to stay here any longer, I... I can't fucking take it anymore! How do you deal with this?”

“I dunno... thick neck skin?” Willow retorted in a sarcastic manner, garnering a growl from Vic.

“This... isn't... funny! Unlike you, I have a life! I have friends, and family, and loved ones that I want to see! You go on about how liberating this life is, but it feels fucking constricting! I can't take it anymore!” he stepped back, “How long have I been here anyway? A week? Two weeks?”

“One month,” Willow answered, making his face turn pale.

“A month!? Like... aaah!” gripping his head, he nearly pulled out his hair, “Everyone thinks I've been dead for a month!? Like... imagine how my parents feel! They must be besides themselves! Gaaah!”

Vic stepped back, but his head tipped up, leering at the white-haired shark in front of him. He was having a breakdown, but she was looking back at him in an indifferent manner. That face... that fucking face! It was so damn insulting!

“And what have you been doing about this!?” Vic shouted as he marched up to her, his finger pointing at her chin, “Just fucking swimming around and hunting fish, while bringing trash back to the submarine!?”

“Treasure! It's treasure!” she corrected, “And I'll have you know, that I have been looking for boats. It's just like I said before, and like I've said all the time; there aren't many boats that come out this way. I can go a year, maybe even two years before I see a vessel.”

“I... I don't believe you,” Vic snarled, “Clearly, you want to keep me here! You're getting off on my suffering, I can tell.”

“Tch... fine... believe what you want to believe,” Willow said as she walked backwards, where she grabbed her cloak of a nearby bar, “But remember, this union isn't very fun for me either. I rather enjoy my solitary life, and you're a major wrench in that. Especially when you get so ungrateful like you are now.”

“Me!? Ungrateful!?” he replied, “What the hell should I be grateful for? That this crazy sharkwoman has me trapped on her submarine!? That my family probably think I'm dead!? That I don't know where the hell I am!? That I'm the one who caused all of this to happen when I made the wrong, fucking call!? RRGGH! Yeah, I'm sooooooo grateful!”

Crossing his arms, he fell back against the wall, his gaze looking to the side as he gritted this teeth.

“You should've just let me fucking die out there...” he muttered under his breath.

It took a few moments for Vic to realize what he said in his little outburst. He didn't mean to reveal so much to Willow, and certainly not in an emotional little tantrum like that. But it was out there, and it's not like he could take back his words.

Looking down, Vic's face melted into something more emotional, something more vulnerable. But his body remained guarded, especially from Willow. He both wanted her companionship, but also blamed her for this. It kept him from looking her in the face, to see her reaction to what he said. And by the time he did muster up enough courage to look over at her...

Swiiisshhh!

From her vantage point in the submarine's command center, Willow leaped out to the oceans, diving into the water and vanishing from sight. She didn't say a word, didn't even look at him. One moment she was there, and the next moment she was gone.

Staring at the now empty space she once occupied, Victor walked over to her, almost as if he wanted, no, needed her help. But then he growled and pulled back, annoyed and frustrated as his hands balled into fists.

“Fucking... typical...” he muttered... though it was hard to tell if she was speaking of her, or himself.

It didn't matter. He was alone again. And considering how long Willow loves to spend time hunting and collecting 'treasure', he probably wouldn't see her for another day, perhaps two. Maybe that was for the best. It would give him time to cool off and relax... settle his nerves following what just happened.

Oh well... another 24 or so hours of pure nothing. Ugh...

Rubbing the back of his head as he marched off in frustrations, Vic decided to do his second favorite thing when life on the submarine got too boring: search around idly, and hope he found something to take his mind off of this dire situation. The chances of it – as usual – were going to be slim to none. But it was better than the alternative, which was to quite literally do nothing.

So... let the investigations begin.

One thing Vic had learned about the submarine as he stayed here? How surprisingly dry it was. Forced to cake out in the sun against the elements, the submarine lacked water in it, despite being surrounded by an ocean on all sides. Sure, the occasional rainstorm would drench the main deck, but water rarely ever traveled deeper into the submarine.

Something else he had learned about the place? The dichotomy of the rusted, abandoned halls against Willow's modern amenities. Since she lived here for what he could assume were years, the shark had collected a few couches and chairs to create a living room in what was once the submarine's barracks. That's an assumption of course; Willow had changed so much, that he wasn't sure what room was supposed to be what back in the submarine's heyday. Vic used to spend his days toiling within this 'living room', before the silence of loneliness nearly drove him insane.

Right now, he was pushing even deeper into the submarine's heart, traveling through doorways, walking down staircases, pushing open doors that were slightly ajar to come to more hallways. Ugh! Hallways, hallways, hallways! And each one lead to yet another nondescript room that was rusted and dented and blasted.

Seriously, what happened here? Had this submarine got into a battle with an enemy, one that reduced it to nothing but this hollow shell? And if it did, what happened to the crew? Did they manage to escape, or did they all perish? There were no bodies here, so either they did escape, or Willow removed their bodies.

Now that's a morbid thought...

Still, the name of this submarine eluded Vic. Even down here, he found nothing hinting at who this once belonged to, or when it was in service. Willow's claw marks extended down here, rending any hint as to this submarine's owner. She said she found it tacky, but damn, this took it to the extreme! It was less like she merely disliked it, and more like she was trying to hide it.

Hide something...

That phrase bumped in his head. Willow had been weird as of late. She'd come back to the submarine, stow away her fish, then quickly make way to her bedroom. At first he thought it was to remove her clothes, but then she'd just return with her cloak anyway, and lay it on a console in the command center. And it wasn't to stow away her 'treasure' either, since she left the trash in the command center as well! So... what was she doing in there?

Vic knew it was wrong of him, but at this moment, he didn't care. If Willow wanted to tear him to shreds for going into her room, he'd gladly accept it. He just needed to see what was going on within the shark's bedroom.

There were no locked doors on the submarine. It's not like a person can lock a hatch door anyway. Besides, who was going to steal her things when he lived in the middle of the ocean?

So Vic just waltzed up to her door, placed his hand on its surface, gave it a slight push, and--

Eeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrkkkkk!!!

The sound of the opening door roared out not only through the halls, but also Willow's bedroom. Willow's large bedroom. What once was the captain's quarters, was now the shark's personal chamber. Around was a lot of trash and junk she so lovingly called 'treasure', while in the center was a large and wide bed with messily strewn blankets.

Gotta say, he was jealous that she got a bed and he got a dingy cot, but hey, this is her home, and he was an impromptu guest in it.

Sitting down on Willow's bed, Vic's body slumped over and an exasperated sigh left his lips. The air smelled of sea salt and sweat – the shark's natural musk, of course – while mixing with whatever odors happened to be coming off of Willow's bounty. Jeeze, he was really getting sick and tired of the smell of fish.

Unfortunately, the shark's bedroom only gave him a few moments of excitement. Vic would sift through her 'treasure' in search of something cool or unique, but it only served to remind him of how useless this junk was. Once brimming curiosities were quickly killed, and before he knew it, he just wanted to leave.

So he got up to leave.

And then he stopped.

“Wait a fucking sec...” Vic muttered audibly as he shifted his gaze towards the wall.

Willow had a desk, and on that desk she had a radio. Now to others who didn't know, that radio may look like just a radio, one a person uses to listen to music, or the news, or games, or whatever! That alone would be enough to piss Vic off. After all, if she had a radio, he could stave off boredom by listening to music or whatever!

But this wasn't just an FM/AM radio, no... this was a ham radio. A ham radio with a transceiver attached to it. And it wasn't busted, or water logged, or ruined in anyway, no.. it was just off. It's cord was even connected; all he needed to do was plug it up to one of Willow's generators, and boom, they'd have instant access to the outside world! Well, for as far as the radio could reach, but that was better than the literal nothing he had right now!

So all of this time – since he's arrived a month ago – he had a means to reach out to the outside world? And it was in Willow's bedroom!? At any moment, she could have given it to him so he could at least try to contact someone,

Anger. Rage. Frustration. Hatred. All of these things and more all funneled through Vic at that moment, and they were all directed towards one person.

When she returned... ooooooh! When she returned!

…

CLANK!

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?”

It was a rhetorical question. She knew it. He knew it. The whole damn ocean knew it.

When Willow returned, she did so with a collection of fish. She was going to put them in the freezer, and then get started on dinner for her and Vic. Pretty much the usual when it came to their lives together.

But this wasn't usual. When she returned, Vic wasn't in his room, or in the kitchen, or standing idly by on the submarine's fin. He was here, in the command center, holding something. And when she faced him, there was no build up, no beating around the bush, no... it was loud, and sudden, and blunt.

Willow's blue eyes looked down towards a nearby console to see the object Vic had placed down. What she saw staring back at her was a radio. Her radio. She leered at it sharply, her face first confused, then defiant, and then angry as she leered up at Victor, her teeth clinched.

“You... you went into my room!?” Willow shouted, causing Vic to slam his foot down.

“So what if I did!?” he replied, “I've been on this damn submarine for a month now; anyone would go stir fucking crazy with this shit! But that's besides the point! For an entire month, you've had a radio just fucking around in your bedroom!? Didn't you think that I could've, ya'know, used it to try and get in contact with someone else!?”

“Get in contact with who, you dolt!?” Willow shouted back, “We're in the middle of the fucking ocean! Didn't you use that pea brain of your to realize that, maybe, the reason I didn't bring up that radio is because it's not important! We don't get ships out here for miles around! That radio barely has a range capable of reaching the northern ridge! Even if we stood on top of the submarine, we'd get nowhere!”

“Even if that's true, it's better than NOTHING!!!” Victor shouted, “I get it, Willow, you like this fucking loneliness, but I don't! I have a life outside! I have people waiting for me, unlike your lonely ass! I don't care if I have to sit out in the rain in order to get this radio working, I'd rather freeze to death than spend any longer than need be!” he turned away, “With enough charge from the generator, I can manage something!”

“No, you're not!” Willow snapped back, “Keep the radio there! It hasn't even been turned on for years, there's no telling if it'll work! And if you go outside and actually sit through a storm, you'll fucking die!”

“What part of 'I'd rather die than sit here any longer' don't you get!? Dying out in a storm is a risk I'm willing to take!”

Clank!

Her hand fell on the radio.

“But it's not a risk I'm willing to take...” Willow replied.

Vic stopped, his eyes first looking down to the radio in hand, then up to the snarling shark standing before him. She was taller than he was, stronger too. So easily she could pick him up, and force him to do whatever it is she wanted him to do. The fact that she hadn't exerted any force on him thus far was actually quite shocking.

The thing is... Vic didn't actually care. Willow could be taller, stronger, deadlier, whatever! But he'd still stand up to her. He'd still look her dead in the eye and growl. He'd still march up to her without a moment's hesitation.

Maybe he was just suicidal at this point. Spending so much time in what had become a prison would do that to a person! He was gonna open his mouth, get in her face, and tell her how he really feels. How her treasures are all trash, how this place sucks ass, how he's sick and tired of so much fish, how he couldn't wait to leave, and how he--

Huh... this felt nice. Wait... what was going on? What was this warmth? What was this feeling?

Oh... they were kissing...

Wait, they were kissing?

Yes... they were kissing.

How they got here, neither side could really tell you. The anger and rage and frustration they had for one another, suddenly boiled over into this passion! Passion that was so raw and intense, that neither side really knew what they were doing.

Animals. They were practically animals. Hungry hands grabbed at bodies, while lips pressed to lips, and tongues wrestled with tongues. The distinct flavor of fish filled Vic's mouth. But for a change, it wasn't disgusting, but instead... flavorful. The more they kissed, the more relaxed he became, loosening on the anger he once felt as their lip left one another.

It was comforting. Yes, that's the word; he felt comforted by Willow, despite wanting to punch her mere seconds before. He felt comforted all the way until their lips parted so that he could breathe. And then he stood there, marveling at her mysterious, otherworldly blue eyes. Eyes that reminded Vic of the eerie lights one would see dancing upon a bog in the middle of the night. Eyes that stared at him with equal bewilderment. Eyes that suddenly slid in to leer at him sharply.

“What? Is that all you got?” Willow snarled, her voice laced with an annoyance that made Vic growl.

“Tch!? Do you think I'm scared because you're a shark?” he snapped back, “The only thing scary about you is your fucking gorilla height!” his hands launched up to the straps of her cloak, fiddling with them, “And the only thing good about you--” Fwump... “Is your body...”

The cloak fell down at Willow's feet, revealing her tall, amazonian form to him. Despite seeing it before many times – it's not like she wears much beyond this leather top and shorts – this was the first time he was actually seeing it. At least, in a long time since his appreciation of her turned to bile.

Willow... was really tall. She loomed over him with a fair extra foot or so of height. Her face was cool and coy, to an annoying degree he'd say. Her chest was fit and busty, always rising and lowering with her every breath. Her narrow waist line that showed a history of argent and dedicated fitness. These powerful legs, thighs and hips that were still shapely, like a soldier-of-war-turned model. All of this together gave her a shapely figure and body that was no doubt honed from years of hunting out here by her lonesome.

If Vic wasn't so angry right now, maybe he would have lobbied more praise towards her. Instead his hands slapped upon Willow's breasts, squeezing into her chest as he looked up to her face.

“How the fuck do you even swim around with these fat tits of yours!?” he shouted, causing her to grit her teeth, “You should be slimmer than that!”

“That's rich comin' from you!” Willow shouted back as she gripped his shorts, “Or did you forget that it was I who found you driftin' out on the ocean half to death!”

Fwump!

His shorts fell down, and his 'little man' sprang up. Staring down as his face turned pale, Vic gazed upon his penis... and just how hard it was. His dick was at maximum length, standing tall and firm in the air between them. Embarrassment funneled through him as he revealed his manhood before Willow... which quickly became anger when she said--

“Is that all?”

“IT THAT ALL!?” he repeated... before chuckling in a sinister manner, “What? Are you scared Willow? You have been out here all by yourself for a long time; years, no doubt. This is probably the first time in a long time you've ever been with a man, isn't it? And it's not like I saw a toy or something among all that trash you collect. Let's face it, Willow,” he glared her in the eye, “You've been looking forward to this.”

If his response got a reaction of her, Willow sure didn't show it. She just looked at him, annoyed at best, and unimpressed at worse.

“Are you sure about that?” she said as she leaned in close, her chest pressing to his chest, “Maybe you're the one whose all lonely. I ain't deaf, Vic; I can hear you beatin' this pencil of yours off at night. You're not exactly the most silent person in the world.”

“Rrgh! So what if I do? Besides...” he smirked again, “If you're listening to me, that means – at least on some level – you actually want me.”

“Is that some sort of joke?” she asked, her eyebrow twitching, “You do realize you're a human, right? And not an impressive one either. Why would I want to listen to you dick around in your bedroom?”

“Because you're lonely,” he replied, “You're a frigid, bitch Willow, one who smells of fish. And... gotta say, that's not really a good fragrance to have.”

“Are you trying to make me kill you?” she growled.

But Willow didn't give Vic a chance to response. Nudging in, she pushed him up against a console, sitting him upon it while she... dropped to her knees. But her sharp glare never left his face, even when her hand gripped his cock and gave it a stroke.

“Nngh!”

An involuntary groan was forced from his lips as the shark began pumping her hand back and forth upon his length. From the base to the glands she jerked him off, again and again and again. The smoothness of her palms cradled his cock, causing his hips to tense up as pleasure started roaming through him.

“Ooooh... someone's getting harder,” Willow said in a teasing manner.

“The only thing 'hard' here is your grip!” Vic replied, “Dammit, don't you know how to hold a fucking penis? You don't squeeze it this hard, you idiot!”

Willow's face tightened further, and so too did her grip. Glaring at Vic with a look that could kill, she began to rapidly jerk his dick off, her hand pounding against his pelvis with every thrust down. Audible 'SMACK!' after 'SMACK!' filled the derelict command center as her vicious handjob brought pleasure to Vic.

She was still wet following her swim, and the smooth texture of her marine body made it easier for her to jerk him off. The pressure of her clamping hand, also didn't feel anywhere near as bad as Vic made it out to be. The tight ring made by her index finger and thumb, stroked against the sensitive flesh of his glands, drawing even more pleasure to him, and forcing a moan from his warbling lips.

“That's it,” Willow said, a cocky smirk adorning her lips, “Gettin' all weak in the knees, Vi-- mmmph!?”

“There... that's better... you talk too much.”

His cock.

Went right into her mouth.

Silenced shut, Willow's stared wide-eyed at Vic, shocked by how brazen he was to just force his dick into her maw. Even he had to take a moment and realize what he'd done! It's not exactly smart to put one's cock into a fucking shark's mouth!

But these thoughts were quickly put aside.

His length pushed between Willow's sharp teeth, and sat right on her tongue. The heat of her maw cradled his dick, while her moist spit oozed and tangled around him. A shudder flowed through Vic and his leg's quaked, then he placed his hand upon her head, his fingers pushing through her hair. With a tight grip, he again caused Willow's eyes to grow wide as her head sank down on his length... deeper... deeper.

“Mmph!”

Oh man... it had been a while since he felt this. A woman's mouth was wrapped around his cock. And quite the woman indeed; a shark. Vic would normally be the first to admit that he was a bit out of practice. Hey, he's not prideful! But Willow was not a normal woman, and he absolutely refused to let her know she made him feel good!

“Hey! Is that your best? Move that tongue of yours!” Vic snapped, causing a growl to reverberate through Willow's mouth.

But she didn't bite him, even though he deserved it in all honesty, and it would be so easy to do so. Instead, the shark placed her hands upon Vic's thighs, pushing him hard against the command console he leaned upon. Then her head started drifting back and forth, bobbing gently upon his cock, while her otherworldly eyes continued tightening around him. The frustration and annoyance she felt was palpable through looks alone, but the feel of her body was anything but.

There was this power in Willow's fellatio. The suction force that drew his length in, was like placing a vacuum to his dick. But when that tongue came to play, it was rather... clumsy. Her tongue slapped at his dick and dragged against it in a manner that was brutish and strong, coaxing grunts from his lips. Then her teeth grazed upon his length, plucking at one area... then another... and another... in manner that both made him tense up and melt.

Is that even possible?

“Heh... is that your best? I guess you really don't have any toys in that 'treasure trove' of yours, cuz this blowjob sucks!” Vic said, a snarky grin appearing on his lips.

“Glk...”

Willow came to a complete halt, and her eyes glared at him even harder. Vic read her face... where he immediately remembered that, yeah, she is a shark. A very tall, very strong, shark... and he'd just spent the better half of ten or so minutes goading her to do something to her.

Uh-oooooh...

Fwaaamp!

“Aah!?”

Willow pulled up, his cock popping out of her lips as he fell down on his butt. Vic didn't even get the chance to speak before the shark settled upon him. He looked up, suddenly pinned beneath the shark's body as she sat on his hips, her otherworldly eyes like knives as they glared upon him.

There was a button in the center of her top, one that held her bust up and together. With a mere swipe of her hand, Willow slipped the button undone, allowing her bosom to expand in her top as it opened up. The busty and curvy breasts of the shark were exposed to Vic, capped with brown nipple that were tense and hard. Still silent, he could say not a word as he marveled at Willow's chest, while the shark leaned over.

“Nuh-uh-uh!” she said, her voice laced with a vicious growl, “Get your ass up here and suck on these so called 'fat tits'!”

Grab!

“Mmmph!?”

Willow didn't even give him the chance to fight back against her order. Her hand grabbed his head, then pulled him straight up, stuffing his face right into her bosom. Her incredibly soft, luscious, bosom. Vic swore he felt himself sink in as her breasts cradled his head like soft, malleable pillows with a somewhat rough surface.

But Vic wasn't pleased with being manhandled like this, even if he did like the the texture and feel of her chest. Wrapping his arms around Willow's back, he violently nuzzled his head between her breasts, motorboating her tits in an attempt to both frustrate and please her.

But Willow was stronger still. With one grab to the back of his head, she pulled Vic back, shouted out--

“I SAID SUCK!”

Then forced his open mouth upon one of her nipples.

“Mmmph!”

Sea salt. He tasted sea salt on her body. He tasted the ocean on her body.

For a moment, Vic slowed down. With Willow's hand to the back of his head, there wasn't much he could do aside from suck. So that's what he did; he sucked. Like a little babe, soft suckling noises slipped from his mouth as he pulled on her teat with his mouth and lips. More of hat delicious taste filled his mouth, and his tongue lapped and brushed against her nipple. Mmm... her body tasted good, far better than he expected it would.

And then he looked up, meeting Willow's grinning face.

This fucking bitch! He wouldn't let her win! He couldn't let her win!

“What are you-- ah!?”

“I'll show you!” Vic shouted as he lifted up and pushed Willow upon the floor.

She leered up at him, her face annoyed, while he locked eyes on her leather shorts. Still running on lust and pent-up aggression, Vic's hands seized upon Willow's trousers, unzipping and undoing them, before pulling them off of her hips and legs.

Such shapely... athletic... hips and legs.

“Are you just gonna stare all day? You idiot...” Willow said, causing Vic to tense up.

“Oh... I'll show you what I can do,” he growled back as he grabbed her leg, hoisting it up so that his cock could press near, “I think it's time I stuffed this bitchy mouth of yours!”

“Ooooh! I'm quaking in my boots,” Willow replied sarcastically.

Again Vic growled, but this time he didn't say a word. Instead a challenging grin appeared on his lips, and he looked down between her thighs. Right there; Willow's hot, moist cunt. It was pink against the brown of her scales, and oozed her nectar upon the floor. She was just as horny as he was, and also like him, she refused to admit how arousing this situation was.

“Well? I'm waiting...” Willow said, annoyance dripping her voice.

But again, Vic did not say a word. No, his body would speak louder anyway.

Grabbing his dick by the shaft, he pressed it up against Willow's folds, bringing a swift end to her snarky expression. Her teeth gritted, the shark looked down to his pelvis, watching as it drifted ever closer. The head of his dick ground against her mound, drawing more honey from her folds while he brushed it up and down, searching for her entrance.

And once he found it...

THWAP!

“Oh?”

“Aah!?”

With one thrust, he made them both reel.

Strong. That's the word he'd use to describe Willow's pussy. Simply 'strong'. It gripped on his dick, holding him down with an intense, vice-like pressure. To push in, it required nothing but strength. To pull out, it required equal strength. The shark's body was as strong in sex as it was on the hunt, and Vic was learning that first hand.

The pleasure of such an intense hold made his entire body shudder, and coaxed a hungry groan from his lips.

Vic's cock slid deep into Willow's pussy, not stopping until it pressed right up against her womb. Then he stopped, the clamping pressure of her pussy drawing a gasping moan from his lips. Growing loose in his back, Vic fell forward, his hands pinning Willow beneath his body, while his eyes stared her in her eyes. Her face too was a visage of mewling pleasuring, having long since forgotten the feeling of being penetrated. It wouldn't matter if he was a sexual god, or a nubile virgin; feeling his cock deep push so deep into her snatch made her entire body shudder.

But the shark was too damn hardheaded. Gritting her teeth, she leered at Vic again, her teeth clinched as she said,

“Is that all?”

He gritted his teeth too.

“You bitch. I'll show you what I have!”

Hunching over, Vic further pinned Willow beneath him, while her legs draped themselves upon his hips. She appeared indifferent, and he appeared annoyed, but in reality, they both couldn't deny the pleasure they felt. However, they also wouldn't admit to the other how awesome this was.

The tightness and strength of Willow's pussy, holding his dick hostage, while wrapping it around in her honey. Meanwhile, the length and width of his cock, being so burly and thick as it jumped and twitched in her snatch to press all of her buttons. She was like a glove, and his hand fitted perfectly inside of her.

But then he drew his hips back, gliding his dick along every faucet of her cunt. Willow ruminated with pleasure, her body twitching here and there, and so too did Vic. Fuck, her cunt was so damn bumpy and groovy as it rubbed and prodded along every inch of his cock. He needed to fight to draw his hips back, and then he needed to put just as much force to thrust back in with a loud--

PAT!

“AAAHH~!”

Willow's cry was so loud, so erotic. Maybe if Vic was in his right of mind, he would have teased her for it. But, no, he drew his hips back, sat for a few moments, and then--

PAT!

“AAAHHNN~!”

Again his cock pushed in deep, forcing another moan from Willow's lip while he bit into his bottom lip. Seeing her, writhing with ecstasy and pleasure, just made him so damn angry! She was getting off on this? How dare she get off on this!?

Gritting his teeth hard, Vic hunkered down as he put all of his anger, all of his emotions, right into his hips. And boy, were they relentless...

PATPATPATPATPATPATPATPATPATPATPAT!!!

“AAAAH-HAAAAH~~! FUCK! AHH!”

All around them the sounds of their body bounced and ricocheted off the walls. It was loud and violent as Vic's cock slammed into her sweltering cunt; again and again and again. The floor quaked around them, his hips blurring as they got faster and faster and faster!

With every thrust of his cock, Willow's body bounced. Her busty, juicy tits clapped against one another as the impacts of his hips sent waves through her body, again and again and again! Her once indignant face had finally morphed into nothing but euphoric pleasure, and her pussy gripped harder and harder around his length.

More... more!

Vic's loins were churning, sending this raging burst which traveled from his balls, through the base, up the shaft, straight to the tip, and--

“Guh!”

The blissful release of an earth-shattering climax. It rocked Vic to his core as she shuddered and quaked, launching his thick seed into Willow's pussy. The first spurt was just that; a spurt. Decent in size yet no less hot.

The next was a damn explosion.

Hunkering down against Willow's body, Vic tanked what felt like the entirety of his balls into the shark's pussy. She felt it – all of it – fill her, fuel her, coating the once pink walls of her pussy completely white. The tension drove her to clutch an grip his body, hugging him close against her as the once vicious pounding of his hips came to a halt in order to just push out more and more and more of his seed.

More and more and more...

A soft moan left Willow's lips as Vic pulled back, drawing his dick out of her spent folds. From his member down to her snatch was a thick line of seed which clung like a spider web of goo, one which only broke when he pulled too far away...

Thud...

And fell on his butt.

Gasping for breath, Vic stared down towards his crotch as his cum and Willow's honey streaked down its side. For a moment, he was still floating in a state of orgasmic bliss. Memories of the month he spent toiling here were nothing but that; memories. And now as the sun set upon the ocean before him, and the anger he felt started to subside, he realized just how disrespectful he had been up to now.

Groaning to himself, Vic wondered where he got off treating Willow in such a way. Sure, he wasn't entirely thrilled with being here, but the shark was the main reason why he was alive. Even he had to admit that standing outside on top of the submarine with a radio probably wasn't the smartest thing to do.

Didn't matter anyway. Willow had been nothing but helpful since all of this started, so who was he to get angry at her?

“Willow I--”

“It's not your fault...”

“Wh... what?”

The shark was still quivering following their climaxes, but her words sounded oddly... sonorous.

Shaking her head, Willow leaned up and slumped over... where her hair covered her eyes. It confused Vic, who watched as she came over; closer and closer... and then sat down next to him.

“The storm wasn't your fault, Vic,” the shark said, “You're blamin' yourself for somethin' that you couldn't stop. Even if you predicted it, the outcome would have been the same. There was nothin' you could do. It's not your fault.”

“But I... W-Willow... I...”

Closing his eyes, Vic sat there for a second or two, trying to settle his thoughts. While his anger towards Willow had subsided, his anger towards himself had not. And no matter how much the shark attempted to reassure him, it clearly wasn't working.

And yet...

“Maybe if I had just...”

“It wouldn't have changed anythin'.”

“But if I had just...

“It still wouldn't have changed anythin'.”

“But it was my duty to...”

“Nothin' would have changed. Victor... you did nothin' wrong.”

“Wait... Willow... how do you know this?”

“...”

“And you said you learned my name by reading my wallet but... reading my wallet. But... my wallet's not here. It had to get lost in the water. And even if you found it in the ocean, it would be too faded to read. I was lost at sea for days, so...” his eyes reopened, “How did you know... my... name...? W-Willow...?”

She was gone.

“Wh... what the...? W-Willow?”

Quickly getting to his feet, Vic stared around in search of the shark, seeing nothing but empty space. Gone was the shark, gone were her clothes, gone was even her honey, vanished into thin air with nothing but his seed dribbling on the floor like a sign of what once was. It took Vic a couple of moments, but he when he got to his unsteady feet, he looked around in search of Willow, only to find nothing.

“Willow!” he shouted out as he pulled his pants up, “H-hey! If you're still angry, I'm sorry! Seriously, I'm sorry I fucked up! I was just... really fucking angry...” he palmed his head, “Really angry... but...” he looked back, “I'm fine now! So... why don't you come out and talk to me?”

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRNNNN!!!

“Huh?”

The roaring sound came through the tears in the hull, drawing Vic's eyes out towards the ocean... and the massive boat which was out in the distance. Illuminated by the setting sun's rays, it howled its horns for all to hear as it drifted by, a sound that filled Victor with hope.

“WILLOW!” he shouted, a smile on his face, “A BOAT! THERE'S A BOAT OUT THERE!” quickly running to the edge of the command center, he placed his hands to his mouth like a makeshift horn and shouted, “HEEEEEEYYYY! I'M RIGHT HERE!!! RIIIIGHT HEEEERREEE!!! HEEEEEYY!!!”

Of course, with the distance separating them, his howls were drowned by the sounds of the ocean, and the boat itself. It would be impossible for the boat to even see the submarine on its slightly submerged perch, let alone the one guy standing there.

Vic's heart began to drop, realizing that this hope was nothing more than a tease. But before his morale could plummet too far..

Clank!

“Hm?”

He looked over his shoulder, his eyes falling on--

“A... flare gun?”

It sat on a command console, being big and orange and shaped like a pistol. Quickly scrambling over, Vic was once again fueled with hope as he grabbed it. But that hope slowly left him as his body slumped over.

“Willow...” he whispered.

Where had she gone? One moment she was there, the next moment she vanished... almost as if she never existed in the first place.

Almost as if she never existed...

“Wait...”

Looking over, Vic's face shifted as he was assailed with thoughts of Willow, and the things he knew of her. Admittedly, they were little to slim, but what he did know of her was bizarre. How did she know his name before he told her? And what of those claw marks on the boat? The ones that removed those so called tacky flags? She claimed it was because she found them to be ugly, but the claw marks extended to areas of the submarine that she didn't even visit that often. To destroy them all, it was more like she hated the flags, as if they belonged to a nation she despised.

And then – above all – there were her words. The ones she kept repeating to him, almost ad naseum.

It's not your fault.

How would she have known about his mistake? He hadn't told her yet. How would she have known?

Her blue eyes... her otherworldly blue eyes.

Clutching the flare gun close, Vic looked down to the ground, his face despondent. There on its surface he saw a wallet. It wasn't there before. Picking it up, he opened it, but it was mostly empty.

Mostly...

There was a card in here; a military identification card. Unlike everything on the submarine, it was in pristine condition, almost a if it was kept safe and separate from everything surrounding it. But because it was so clean and perfect, Vic could see just how old it was. How old? Well, it was dated to the 80s, that's how old. 1982, to be exact.

Upon the header it read a name: the Royal Dudral Navy. Beneath it to the right there was the face of a woman. A human woman. She had blonde hair, and this intense, powerful look in her blue eyes. The face she made was professional and no-nonsense... a face befitting a soldier.

No, a face befitting a captain.

Captain Willow Harvey to be exact.

Was this a coincidence? Or was this reality? A myriad of expressions took Vic's face as he struggled to process this newly-gained information. It was all too crazy to believe, wasn't it? And yet... it also explained so much. How else would she have maintained a submarine, unless she's worked on a submarine in the past? How else would she have found him out in the ocean, unless she wasn't mortal to begin with? How else would she have known the things she knew, unless...

Unless...

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRNNNN!!!

The boat's horns played again, alerting him that now was his chance. Either he stood around here and this submarine truly becomes his coffin, or he took his chance to escape. These questions would haunt him for the rest of his life no doubt, but one thing was for sure.

This would not be Victor's last time out at sea.

He pointed forward with his flare, and pulled the trigger.

Click!

FWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!