Wormanoid

By C. S. Warner

A strange discovery at the bottom of the sea leaves a trail of death while more questions pile up about the mysterious circumstances of Jeffrey Kenneth's awakening.
After exploring what lay at the first set of coordinates, Vera is tasked with identifying the contents of a box discovered inside a scuttled houseboat. Prying eyes see the contents as valuable and death ensues, but does it all still have to do Jeffrey? Or is something else at play? Dealing with that plus a black sedan that she just can't shake from her rearview mirror will take all hands on deck.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mr Blues Publishing
• Release date: Nov 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005527693

C. S. Warner

?C.S. Warner grew up with a love of the horror and science fiction genres – as evident in her writing. Because of that passion, she has worked on ghost tours and as a paranormal investigator to give her stories life. Using her experience as a foundation for her writing, Warner creates worlds in which her readers can get lost.?

Book preview

Vera King:

Wormanoid

C. S. Warner

Book 2 in the Vera King series.

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2020 C.S. Warner

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Chapter 1

All Aboard

It was Lou… It was Lou… It was Lou… Ray’s words repeated over and over in Captain John Coleman’s head as he ascended away from the billowing red blood that shrouded the sunken boat still resting broken on the ocean floor. With his subordinate, ‘Sting’ Ray West, swimming at his side they continued up toward the fragments of distorted sun as it glistened down through the water’s surface.

The ocean seemed thicker to Ray, harder to swim through -as if he were caught in a whirlpool sucking him back to the grim scene that lied in wait beneath them. Although he was the crew’s lead diver, Ray found himself in a sudden fit of panic. Heart racing, his breath grew shorter in his mask; in and out, faster and faster. He’d never felt like that before, claustrophobic, and it took all of his self-control to keep from fervently tearing away his mask. Calm down, he heard his captain’s voice over the intercom. Don’t hyperventilate.

About fifteen minutes had passed, although it felt like only a second, since the two men witnessed their friend, shipmate, and fellow diver, Lou Smith, shredded to pieces by an unusual, oblong sea creature. They had been scavenging the remains of a houseboat after having received its location from a mysterious list of coordinates. The assumed ‘treasure map’ came courtesy of a peculiar obsolete piece of hardware found inside the body of a recently awoken castaway.

As they surfaced, John thrust off his mask and yelled up at the three bystanders still aboard his commercial crew boat, Viking Past. The three appeared as mostly silhouettes with their backs against the daunting sunlight, but nonetheless as they leaned over the railing their curious expressions were not lost on the two returned divers. Oswald! John singled out his first mate, Connor Oswald. Grab the harpoon!

Aye, aye, cap’n, the gray haired man turned obediently to carry out John’s command.

Harpoon? Vera King, the sole woman on the vessel, placed her hands on her hips as curls of hair whipped at her face in the wind. John, what could you possibly need a harpoon for? but for the first time in years, he ignored her.

Wait, Jeffrey Kenneth, the man from out of whom they’d retrieved the coordinates, leaned his fragile, bony body further over the barrier, someone’s missing. Where’s Lou? The two men silently bobbed up and down with the passing waves, eyes cast down. Ray fought back tears; he was hesitant about returning to the depths, the thought made him sick, but revenge flared from John’s face and he knew there was no telling his captain no.

John, Vera said cautiously as she gripped both hands tight around the rail, what’s down there? He locked eyes with her for a moment, a glimmer of panic shown through, but he turned away, running his hand over the top of his head.

Hey, Blue, Oswald, calling John by his nickname, had returned with the large harpoon in both hands, you both be careful down there. He tossed it over and it hit the water with a loud smack splashing the two men in the face. John swiftly grabbed it and wrapped the strap over his shoulder before buckling it to his gear. Sliding their masks back on, John and Ray plunged under an oncoming swell, leaving but a ripple for the three onlookers still aboard, waiting nervously under the glaring sun for whatever may come.

Blue-gray water stretched farther into the abandoned abyss below, but finally, the familiar white coral graveyard slowly emerged into focus. The bloody water had dissipated leaving a murky view of the vessel that lied ominously broken in half. John swam slowly for the center fracture and noticed something that he hadn’t before during the chaos: the edges appeared charred with obvious ignition spots; the boat had been blown up and sunk on purpose…

What’s the plan, Blue? Ray’s voice crackled over the com.

Stay behind me, he stressed.

Though he may have been seeing red, as John neared the compartment where he knew the oversized sea cucumber to be, his hands began to tremble around the harpoon. He rounded the corner and paused. The creature stood upright at about five feet high, its foot long pincers stretched out of its top in opposite directions, and it shimmered an iridescent white under John’s light. Slowly, he lifted the harpoon to aim; the worm wiggled and short hairs perked up all around it. John rested his finger on the trigger; it could sense his presence… The beast quickly coiled back ready to strike, but John was faster, pressing the trigger hard and sending the harpoon flying through the water, piercing the worm perfectly in the center. It writhed and whipped from side to side angrily; John backed up and watched, ready to swim away, but the creature didn’t follow. The worm’s movements slowed until it hunched over; its bottom released from the floorboards and it began to float with the harpoon sticking through it like a skewer through a shrimp.

Damn, Blue! Ray said through the intercom.

Let’s finish searching the boat, John replied, "and then take that… that thing up to Viking Past."

Do you think they’re alright? Jeffrey asked as he sipped his water in the cabin. Vera, seated across from him, continued to nervously drum her fingertips on the table as she stared out of the window at the unfamiliar