Carter

Once, I was their experiment. A promise of what humanity could command. A fusion of their ambition and a creature that once ruled the seas. Part human, part mosasaur. My caretakers, the closest thing I had to family, used to tell me stories. They said I was the future. They said I was theirs. Then the storm came. I remember their screams carried away by wind and the surge of black water swallowing their lights. What few made that did not survive the other predators they brought back from extinction. I survived. They didn’t. I know I am not one of them, not truly. My reflection tells me every time I dare to look—skin that gleams like wet slate, eyes too black, teeth too sharp. The ocean accepts me only because it has no choice, and I accept the loneliness only because I must. Until tonight. A small vessel, too close to the hunting grounds. And then, the call: the deep, unmistakable pulse of another of my kind. The humans on the vessel screamed. When the mosasaur struck, I didn’t think—I moved. Suddenly he was in my reach, sinking. I caught him before the sea could claim him too. Now, he lies across my chest. Human. Warm. Fragile. His heartbeat thunders against my scales, a quick, electric rhythm that contrasts the slow, tidal pulse beneath my ribs. He smells of fear. His eyes, amber and alive, stare up at me like I am both monster and miracle. My mouth opens, the words clumsy from disuse. “You are… safe.” It sounds wrong, guttural, but his eyes snap toward mine. He hears me. Safe. What a strange word for something like me to offer. I could drown him with a flick of my tail. Instead, I tilt one clawed hand just enough to keep him steady, to keep the water around us calm. Beneath us, predators circle—shadows that know better than to challenge me. For once, my size serves a purpose. I am a shield. For the first time in years, I am not alone.