The deep ocean floor, tinted blue by the skies high above, spans across for miles and miles. Sheets of sand cover the floor like a blanket. Jagged rocks and stones are covered with the marine snow that falls above all. It is bare, spacious, and quiet, a comforting type of quiet that never shakes or unnerves Virelle and her family. She wades through the water, the water dragging her draping cloak along as she pushes past it.
She moves gracefully around the ocean floor, each step so light, the sand beneath her unmoving. She sits on her knees, grabbing shells from off the seafloor, examining each one for impurities. She uses her nails and sharp stones to carve away at algae or dirt within crevices before using the sand beneath her to polish said shells.
She smiles, storing each newly polished shell in a bag she finds floating around, each shell a potential aid for the darkness and plague that engulfs the sea. She swallows her nervousness, the shells giving her hope.
As she gets up, her foot gets trapped in seaweed, causing her to fall and scrape her hand. "Oh dear..." she comments, slowly getting up from her accident, unaware of her injury. "No matter, the ocean shall heal me as it always has." But the ocean grows tense and wary. She wades back to her home, graceful still. Clouds of sand surround her feet with uncertainty.
Virelle opens the door. Her three children, Vira, the eldest daughter, Vamina, the youngest daughter, and Vdella, the youngest son, greet her.
“Oh, you’re back,” Vdella states with a warm smile. Hearing the news, Vamina rushes to hug her mother. Vira, meanwhile, serves food for Virelle. Virelle looks at their innocent faces, her heart welling up with tears that don’t dare to come out.
“Yes-yes, I have returned,” Virelle affirms, gently pushing Vamina off to put the bag of shells aside before properly greeting them all with a hug. “I expect you all have been good while I was away, yes?” The children nod, listing all the chores they completed.
“I helped Vira with getting food earlier,” Vdella states.
“You know that’s not true. You kept eating it!” Vira rolls her eyes playfully, nudging Vdella’s arm.
“Vdella... What have I told you…” Virelle crosses her slender arms, giving him a stare that condemns his actions.
“I can’t help it, mommmm…” Vdella chuckles, his words rolling off his tongue with a drawl.
Vamina looks up at her mother, excited. “I swept the floors! And I even made sure to keep the food safe from--”
Darkness crawls up Virelle’s back as her mind starts to wander to intrusive thoughts. However, she shakes it off, not wanting to worry her children. Trying her hardest, she savors this moment with her children, not letting it sour by her thoughts. Despite the ocean whispering warnings to her, she throws them to the sea currents, her family giving her the faintest glimmer of hope.
~~
A month passes by, the ocean remains barren and desolate. Even so, Virelle and her family still grow strong. Virelle still finds solace in her symbols and shells, collecting them regardless of her hand, which has grown stiff and black from the decaying skin around it, rendering her unable to polish those same shells. The symbols she writes outside her house look more and more crooked as time passes, and her choice of shells is more lenient and messy, along with her overall appearance.
She has grown quite a bit as well, her muscles growing unevenly. She can be seen twitching as her muscles spasm from time to time. Even if her skin tingles constantly, she makes an effort to do her duties, now with the help of her daughters.
“Mom, you don’t need to come with us every time… go back home, Vdella said he’d take care of you,” Vira utters, noticing how much weaker her mother has become. Her graceful steps are now sluggish shuffling, as the clouds of sand beneath her shoot outwards in every direction.
“Vira, my dear child, I am eternally honored for your kindness.” But that is all she ever says when anyone tells her to relax. She can’t sit there and do nothing. She can’t be a beacon of hope for her children if she takes a day off. Not that her children would ever know that day.
“Mom…” Vamina adds, “You’re shaking again.”
“You will keep collecting shells. And you, Vira, will continue polishing the shells,” she orders. “We must not allow ourselves to neglect our responsibilities from setbacks so minor.” Virelle continues to gather food, despite her daughters' protests. The sisters can’t help but whisper among themselves, concerned for their poor mother.
“Vira… I think she’s sick… b-but she won’t listen to us... What do we do?” Vamina whispers.
“I’m sure she’ll get over this…” Vira pauses, her sighs coated with doubt. “She doesn’t usually get sick like this, though…”
“I just knew these shells and symbols were pointless…” Vamina frowns, throwing a shell into the black nothingness that is the distance.
“V-Vamina!”
“You know it’s true! We don’t have any proof that those things even work! And now, Mom’s sick! If those things really protected us, she would’ve felt better by now!” Vamina shouts, her face filled with an overbearing sadness, presenting itself as anger.
Vira can't utter a word; her sister is right. The rituals that their mother dedicates so much time and energy to never produce any tangible results. They are more like decorations than anything.
“Just… don’t say those things around Mom…” Vira hangs her head low, trying to focus on polishing and storing the shells away.
“Of course not… I know better than to do that again.” Vamina continues to collect the shells, remembering a time when her mother yelled at her for disrupting her rituals.
Virelle approaches them again to check on their progress. “That should suffice, children. Now then, let us go home, yes?”
The daughters nod, swimming back home. However, Virelle starts to lag behind. The parasite’s influence plagues her mind. She keels over, her hand on her head as she tries to protest. “I refuse! E-End this m-madness! E-Enough!!” she cries.
Her daughters circle her, trying to tend to her, but it’s too late.
The ocean has stopped listening.
With a savage roar, Virelle lunges, her hands transforming into deadly claws.
“No!” Vira screams, instinctively pushing Vamina behind her. Virelle barrels into her, a brutal force of fury. Vira gasps as sharp fingers dig into her flesh, tearing through skin and muscle. Pain explodes through her as she fights to push her mother away.
“Fight it, Mom!” Vamina cries, desperation thick in her voice. “Please, remember us!” For a fleeting moment, Virelle’s eyes soften, a flicker of recognition breaking through the darkness. “Vira...” she whispers, but the parasite roars within her, its influence suffocating.
With a primal shriek, Virelle twists, her gaze locking onto Vamina. The maternal love is gone, replaced by an insatiable hunger. “Stay back!” Vamina shouts, but she is too slow.
Virelle lunges, sinking her claws deep into Vamina’s side, the sickening crunch of bones echoing through the water. Vamina screams a gurgling cry that turns into silence as the darkness engulfs her.
“NO!” Vira shrieks, watching in horror as her sister falls limp, the light fading from her eyes. The sight sends a fresh wave of terror coursing through her, and she turns to flee, but Virelle is upon her, relentless and monstrous.
In a final, gruesome act, Virelle strikes, her hands moving with horrifying speed. Clouds of blue swirl in the water, mingling with Vira's cries as she fights against the overwhelming force of her mother’s wrath. But it is futile; the darkness has consumed Virelle completely.
As Vira’s screams echo through the depths, the realization crushes her: the mother they loved is gone, leaving behind only a monstrous shell. In those last moments, the abyss swallows their love, leaving nothing but the cold silence of the ocean.
Vdella wakes up from his nap, noticing that his family has not returned from gathering resources. No matter, he checks outside to see if they are coming back soon, only to see the carnage his mother left behind.
Unable to pull his eyes away, he watches as his mother kneels, in the center of the bloodshed, writing the same symbols around herself that she used to around the house. Looking at those symbols and the symbols outside his home, he makes the connection in his head. His mother is right about the symbols. His mother is right about the shells. And the two people who doubted her the most died from it. He quickly stores as much food as he can, looking back at his mom one final time before quickly swimming deeper into the ocean. The oxygen levels are incredibly low, and signs of life are even more minimal, but at least the parasite won’t get him from here.
…Right?