All They Do...

Swimming in the salty ocean waters, Sally felt confident that nobody could see. Darkness blanketed the world; all she could see was were the waves near her and the faintest lights on the shore that gave the only indication that there was a world left. It was easy to imagine that there was nothing, only the inky blackness beneath and the star-speckled night sky above.

Sally had been swimming before dawn every night since she’d moved to the seaside, indeed that had been her entire reason for moving to this tiny coastal town. She had always preferred swimming in the ocean, and getting up and out into the sometimes-freezing cold water both exhilarated her and sharpened her appetite. She would thoroughly enjoy her breakfast in her towel and watch the sun rise. It was her favourite way of starting the day.

It couldn’t be called light yet, the colours barely shifting away from blackness to the east as the sun began its slow ascent, climbing towards the horizon. A few more minutes, she reasoned, then she would have to return to shore, to home, to breakfast. Then she’d concern herself with the needs of her small horde of children.

Since moving to this town her friends, including the new ones that she’d made here, all called her The Shark. All she did, they told her, was swim and eat and make little ones. It was a line from a movie that she’d never been able to bring herself to watch; the thought of a killer great white shark eating people just didn’t interest her. Besides, she knew the risks, the dangers. She’d been living this way for several years now.

She dunked her head beneath the surface of the waters, opening her eyes to the sting of the salt water. Not that she could see anything, it was blacker than midnight. She sensed more than saw motion, something rushing past her. A fish of some kind, surely. Returning to the surface to check her location, she began heading back to shore.

Something touched her foot. It was a subtle feeling, as if somebody were just lightly dragging their hand across the ball of her foot, towards her toes. It came again, the other foot this time, with a little more force. Whatever it was felt rough.

Propelled by hunger, she continued ignoring whatever was playing with her feet. She had seven children of various ages to corral, herd, feed, get to their various schools. Far more important than some sea creature that was interested in the bizarre human-thing that had invaded its space. More important still, at least in Sally’s immediate opinion, breakfast. A healthy vegan cereal complete with a variety of fruits and nuts along with some steaming hot black coffee.

Her late husband would have mocked such a choice, his idea of a healthy breakfast was bacon, steak and eggs. The worst thing was that he had been ridiculously healthy for someone that subsisted primarily on meat. Fit, strong, and an amazing human being. He had been hit by a truck while crossing an otherwise empty street. He had died instantly, his life insurance paying for the new house in the new town with plenty remaining. She missed his presence, certainly, but appreciated the fact that he had thought to prepare for such eventualities.

Another prod at her foot brought her out of her reverie. It was getting insistent now, and whatever was playing with her had scraped along her ankle this time. It stung as the salt seeped into the small wound.

She stopped moving, treading water as she regained her bearings. This time she noticed a small disturbance in the water around her. The sky was beginning to brighten slightly, enough for Sally to see the tip of a dorsal fin drop beneath the surface. She let out a huge sigh of relief; she’d swum with dolphins around here a few times in the pre-dawn gloom. Though it was odd that she hadn’t seen it; usually they are more friendly and sociable with people. With her, anyway.

Smiling, she continued on her way back to the shore. Again, her swimming companion brushed against her leg. A moment later she was startled by a force from beneath lifting her up over the surface of the ocean. She felt an intense pressure against her midsection, and she squawked in surprise.

Then she sank. Her legs weren’t working anymore, wouldn’t propel her forward. She felt with one hand, feeling a strange mass of something below her breasts, then nothing beneath that. As her consciousness faded, she realised that her lower half was no longer there .

As she sank her attacker came past for another cursory investigation. Finding nothing worth eating it moved on to the next potential meal. Swim, eat, make little sharks. Sally would have been gratified to know that the shark did not, in fact, want to devour her. One taste was more than enough to satisfy its curiosity about the oddly splashing intruder to its domain. Yes, she had known the risks, and now she was another statistic.