“Come here, girly. We won’t hurt you…..” Spok
Author:Cameron Paton Time:2024/11/25 Read: 1449“Come here, girly. We won’t hurt you…..” Spoke a pirate, yet his voice doesn’t hold any warmth, but instead has a wicked smile on his face and gleaming cutlass is held in one of his hands.
“How did I end up in this mess?” Cleo thought, starting to become anixous as she step back across the sandy beach.
The group of pirates started to bicker amongst themselves, seemingly eager to be the first to have a go with her.
“Now’s my chance!” Cleo thought as she began to run away.
However, this was short lived as a bullet sped past her and as Cleo glanced over shoulder, she saw the pirates chasing after her.
“Go away!” Cleo shouted before suddenly feeling a strange sensation going over her body.
The pirates watched as Cleo’s body started to change, transforming in a large egyptian-themed humanoid creature with brown/golden skin.
“Huh?!” Cleo exclaimed in a shock tone of voice as she examine her new form.
“W-what short of Devil Fruit is that?!” One of the pirates exclaimed with widened eyes.
“Devil Fruit?” Cleo thought, perking up slightly.
“The Phantom God Exodia Incarnate…..” A voice suddenly spoke with Cleo’s head, possibly revealing the name of the being that she’s transformed into.
Shaking her head, Cleo gazed down at the group of pirates, eyes narrowing.
The coarse sand scraped against Cleo’s bare knees as she scrambled backward, the salty tang of the ocean doing little to soothe the rising panic in her chest. “Come here, girly. We won’t hurt you…” the pirate captain sneered, his words a grotesque parody of kindness. The glint of his cutlass, held loosely but menacingly, belied the promise. His smile, a cruel slash across his weather-beaten face, sent a shiver down her spine.
How had she, a lowly cartographer, ended up on this desolate beach, pursued by a band of cutthroats? A misplaced map? A drunken sailor’s boast? The details were a blur now, lost in the overwhelming terror of the present.
Their bickering, a cacophony of greedy whispers and boasts of first claim, momentarily distracted them. Now’s my chance! she thought, launching herself into a desperate run. The sand stung her feet, her lungs burned, but the adrenaline fueled her flight.
The illusion of escape shattered with the sharp crack of a pistol shot, whistling past her ear. She glanced back, seeing the pirates, a motley crew of sun-baked brutes, hot on her heels.
“Go away!” she screamed, the word a desperate plea lost in the wind. Then, the strange sensation began. A tingling, a warmth spreading through her limbs, a feeling of…expansion.
The pirates watched, their jeers dying in their throats, as Cleo’s body writhed and shifted. Bones cracked and reformed, flesh rippled and reshaped. Her skin took on a rich, bronze hue, her features sharpening into something inhumanly beautiful and terrifying. Where her fingers had been, now extended clawed hands, adorned with gold rings and intricate hieroglyphics. Her frame grew taller, broader, culminating in a towering humanoid figure, clad in what seemed to be living, golden scales and intricate headdresses.
“Huh?!” The transformed Cleo – or rather, what she had become – let out a gasp, her voice now a low, resonant rumble that vibrated through the sand. She examined her new form, a mixture of awe and terror twisting within her.
“W-what short of Devil Fruit is that?!” one of the pirates stammered, his eyes wide with a fear far surpassing their initial greed.
Devil Fruit? The word sparked something in Cleo’s mind, a flicker of understanding in the midst of the bewildering transformation. She had heard tales of such things, fantastical fruits granting superhuman powers.
Then, a voice, ancient and powerful, resonated within her mind, seemingly emanating from the very core of her being. “The Phantom God Exodia Incarnate…”
Cleo, or rather, the Exodia Incarnate, slowly shook her colossal head, the headdress trembling slightly. Her gaze fell upon the cowering pirates, her narrowed eyes gleaming with a power that was both alien and undeniably her own. The terror on their faces was palpable, a stark contrast to the arrogance they’d displayed moments ago. The hunt was over. Now, the game had changed.
