The deep

The waters of the Okanagan receded.
Chester handcuffed Osmond and threw him in the back of his damaged cruiser, while he radioed other members of the church to come and tend to the broken Ariel.
Miriam just stared at the lake.

"It's not that deep." she said to no one in particular.  "You'll have to come out sometime..." she continued, this time speaking in the direction of the lost baby.
"And when you do, I'll be waiting..." 'and so will my son', she thought to herself, but dared not speak, in case anyone of importance may be listening.
"What do ya have in store fer these here folks, ma'am?"  Chester broke her reverie.
"To find out just how that baby came to be.  They must know the ocean, Chester.  There's no other way."
"Ain't bein' the beast explanation enuff?  If'n ya don't mind me say'n so."
"No Chester, it's not.  If we have to, we're going to take her womb apart and examine it, bit by bit."
"That don't sound like the works o' no god I ever known."
"No, you're right.  We may just have to have faith that they'll co-operate.  And maybe we can stop the beast from controlling the land."
"Amen.  Amen to that, ma'am."
Miriam just stared at the lake....





Atlas sunk.  Less than four days old, this would be his first memory.  Not because he was separated from his parents, and not because he was taken by the lake.   He would always remember the feeling of breathlessness, the cutoff from air, and the liberation of it.

He sunk deeper and deeper, to where he could not see.  To where no creature could see, and next to no creature could smell or taste.  Touch and sound ruled down below, and when the Ogopogo first came upon baby Atlas, he could hear no sounds of breath, and felt no movement of lungs.
'What is this?'  It thought to itself, 'A creature with gills and lungs, but needs not breath?
What demon spawn could this be?'
The ancient sea snake inhaled a monstrous amount of muggy, dark, sea water into its maw, held baby Atlas in his palm, and expelled the fluid with tremendous pressure, forcing Atlas' gills to open and accept their purpose.

Atlas became began to choke, but could not cry.
The change in his body was immediate, from boy to shark, he transformed seamlessly.
The Ogopogo rejoiced at this.  A new life in its hands, so long had it been alone.
It examined the body of this strange creature, felt its fins and tail, its disproportionate head, and it's human genitalia.
"By the madness," it thought to itself, "It has been given unto me to raise this child?  To train and develop this wonder which the world itself has been waiting for?!"
He himself doubted the prophecy of the earth's saviour, but the madness had done it.  It had created its own evolution, it's own child, through the womb of a human.
But the Ogopogo was old.
It had become anemic from it's centuries of seclusion.  Adapted to it's chosen environment, the sea snake had spent its time learning from the water.  Learning how to move as one within it, how to control it, how to bond with the madness that lies in all things.
It had done this in hope of the truth that now lay in it's palm.  Waiting for the time to draw near when the world would turn, and the Ogopogo could have revenge on the lords of the ocean, and regain it's place as king.
But it could not do these things in it's current body.
Which was no matter, for it had been far too long without reproduction.  The Ogopogo thanked the madness, and went in search of nourishment for his protege.
It was time to find an egg.