Jaws Prompt ‘Oh You Better Believe We’re Going There Again’

Alright, I’m calling on my sorry ass to get a move on and finish this fish story. If you’re just tuning in: I am answering a prompt (Explain why Jaws eats the people. Make me pity him.) in the form of a story for completely no reason at all. Cheers.


When will Mother realise we aren’t meant to be here? Freddy followed the lines in the rubber skin of the whales. He followed those lines where they began a gentle circling around the eyes to run down near the mouth. From there they arched across the belly stretching so confidently, he was sure, all the way to the very tip of the tail. Ah, oh well. No changing her mind now. If he could just fit in somehow. If he could just show his stuff, make them stop, make them see. All those sharks who grew up on whale babies and rubber tires, he would make them all see. Freddy pulled his gaze away from the little whales that were now grouping with their mothers. He was now trying to fight the bile threatening to pool up in his mouth. What kind of shark are you?!

Just look at you kid. Just look at ya.” The unexpected company that was now talking from some corner of the ocean made Freddy very uneasy, very uneasy indeed. In fact the bile did not threaten to pool anymore, it just went ahead and pooled.

“Good god kid! You are pitiful!” The voice was a rather gravelly voice. It spat of years of heavy smoking (if underwater creatures could be capable of such things) and drunken bar room rants. The rage in it was unnecessary but so huge that at the moment, Freddy was so very sorry he had been born. It must be the Elders was his first thought. The Elders were the most wretched of all sharks and they feasted on the mightiest of men, Freddy remembered his mother telling him during nights before bed. So this was it. Someone had called to the Elders to get rid of Freddy once and for all. Must have been Charlie or Sam or Dan, Freddy thought.

“Well, don’t just float there like a dumbass, kid. Face your opponent goddamnit!” And then there was a sting on Freddy’s fin, like a pretty bold knock at the door. As he turned to do as he was told, a second sting was raging across his eyes and through his head. The wind was gone from him now, his body was becoming rigid with fear. Four stings and four bloody soars later, Freddy was finally shown his attacker.

“The names Ray. Seems you can’t handle my Sting.” To watch a sting ray laugh is a very odd thing. And to do so all the while knowing  that you, a Great White, have just been charged, battled, and defeated by one-a sickly looking one- is an even odder thing.


To be continued!! HAHA


About Jen

Illustrator based out of Plymouth, Ma.
This entry was posted in Fiction, Short Story, Writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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