Oma is an up-and-coming writer currently residing in Interior Alaska. An avid love of all things horror and reading, as well as creating, drove her to begin writing her own short stories at a young age. With a primary focus on horror, her stories range from soft horror to Splatterpunk. When not writing, she enjoys painting, reading and reviewing novels, as well as crocheting. Oma currently has a collection of short stories in the editing process and is working on a debut novel that she hopes to have published this year.
Updates about her work can be found here: Oma Ann- Author | Facebook
OTTER DREAMS
by
Oma Ann
Natasha gazed out into the toiling horizon. Waves crashed violently against the rocky coast. Dark thunderheads lined the horizon. She rubbed her freezing hands together as her guide came up to her. Her guide was a large Native gentleman named Paul; he had been recommended specifically for those like her, the ones who wanted to see a different side of the land. She had come to Alaska to experience the great wilderness, and the traditions of the peoples. That was exactly what Paul had promised her.
“We need to head back to the village before the rain starts...it isn’t safe out here on rainy nights.,” Paul glanced nervously at Natasha as he spoke.
Natasha chuckled, shaking off Paul’s superstitious words.
“We can head back in a few. I really want to get pictures of otters before we leave, and this is my last day here.”
Paul gave a short nod and walked back over to where they had sat their gear.
She had insisted he bring her to the sound so she could see the sea otters. Unfortunately, they had not seen one otter all day. The village elders had discouraged it, stating the sound was dangerous for someone who had not grown up in the area, but what was she paying Paul for, if not to help her navigate territories to which she was unaccustomed?
She sat at the water’s edge, camera tucked into her lap, until she felt the first drops of ice-cold rain sprinkling her face. Sighing, she clambered back along the small, rocky embankment. When she reached their gear, she found it sans one guide.
“Where the hell did he go?”, she murmured.
A sudden splash behind her made her bolt back to the waterside, hoping that the critter that had broke the surface was the one she had been waiting for all day.
Rather than a bevy of otters, the sight before her was a monstrous one.
Natasha inhaled sharply, taken aback by the sheer size of the beast that had breached the water. The creature towered over Natasha, at least eight feet tall. It’s slick furred body dripped with sea water. It’s head was rounded, features turned up in a snarl as it sniffed the air around it. Canines glinted in the moonlight; Beady eyes glared out into the darkness. The creature walked upright, with a muscular torso and strong legs; if not for the tail that erupted from the base of it’s spine, she likely would have confused it for a large man. But there was no mistaking that it was not a man once you saw that face, a face that clearly belonged to that of an otter.
A chill ran up her spine. She had heard stories in the village, of men who were not quite men. Of children who were not children. Rather, they were creatures who sought out those who strayed too far from home, to create more like them or to feast on their flesh. No one could agree on what it was they truly wanted of those they took. She had assumed it was just a silly story to keep children away from the water at night. Clearly, she had been wrong.
Somehow, it had not seen her yet. She took half a step back, then another. She continued slowly, making her way back towards where she thought the trail was in the tree line. A snap echoed through the sound and Natasha froze. The creature whipped it’s head in her direction.
It let out a bellow, charging towards Natasha with astounding speed and agility for its size, clearing the embankment in one leap. Natasha screeched and bolted for the tree line.
Too late had she been. The creature was on her before she had made more than a few strides. It slammed into her back, causing her to fall forward. Sprawled out on the mossy ground, Natasha flailed and attempted to crawl out from underneath the oversized being. Her nails dug into the spongy ground in front of her, failing to find purchase in the wet foliage.
Her breath froze in her lungs as she felt a sharp, burning pain in her shoulders. The creature had dug it’s claws into her up to the first knuckle, tearing through cloth, flesh, bone, like warm butter. Standing up with it’s claws still imbedded in her shoulders, the creature flung Natasha back towards the water.
Natasha landed hard on the stone embankment. Coughing and heaving, she made a failed attempt to lift her aching body off the ground. There was a huff behind her and she felt the creature tear into her again. This time, it slashed along her back over and over, as if digging for her spine.
Resisting the attack was futile, she had long since stopped begging for it to stop; it seemed to being going on forever as it was. The creature continued to tear at her flesh, and blood ran into her eyes, mixing with the tears that she had silently shed throughout the ordeal. She could sense her limbs going numb, her eyes growing heavy.
As Natasha’s vision began to blur, she looked out at the now calmed waters. Darkness had set in at some point, but she could still make out about a dozen pairs of beetle black eyes glowing back at her, blinking slowly.
Natasha gave a small smile. Perhaps coming out here had been worth it after all. She had gotten to see her otters.