The water shimmers—the sun is at high noon—as shafts of light try to penetrate the trenches where monsters lie. The light fails as it always does and from the trench, a creature of old arises. Gray shadow stretches its flesh and its beauty is only equaled by the unmitigated terror it strikes into the lesser sealife. She is not lesser; she is great as the gray mingled black shadow paints her own skin.
Obsidian eyes watch as the juvenile turns and sinks back into the trench. It is of no concern to her. She is on the hunt and it will be no challenge should it come. A tail flicks sharp as she circles. It’ll come; in due time, they’ll come.
It is hours later as the wind rocks the surface and sun begins to sink that the shadows begin. One crosses overhead, diving and rising over the waves, and then another. The hunger spikes hot as muscles tense, the assassin begins the swim upward. Water splinters around her sleekness as she speeds upward. The shadows grow close and—
Jaws open as teeth skim over fur, sink deep through skin and muscle, and then she flies. The water clamors below, crowing for her return; the air croons sweet, longing to keep her. But she knows nothing except of blood. She is dimly aware of falling back, crashing into the water’s surface until she sinks back into the well known embrace. The blood turns red and she takes in her meal with ferocity.
Above the water is red, seeping into the horizon, and the sky once more awaits the monster's breach.