24 year old Moselle has the ability to breath underwater, she thought she was the only one when one day she found a small child under the water breathing like her. Following the events of Wakanda, Namor finds himself in the same position of trying...
I hear her cries coming from the beach. Attuma and I and the rest of the warriors had just come up from the cave's entrance when I heard her. I couldn't tell what she was yelling but deep in my gut something churned.
"Please." I whispered to myself not even Attuma heard me. "Please whatever Gods can hear me..protect her, protect them both."
Then we all take off toward the beach.
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Moselle
I don't know how long I've been screaming. I know long enough that my throat burns as my voice rips through it.
I'm still holding Namora when I hear voices behind me and quick footsteps running in the sand. I hear someone yell out from what sounds like crying, but my ears are muffled, and I can't tell who it is. My vision is still focused on Namoras face. A face I will never see smile again. Here her laugh or give Attuma a hard time.
Attuma.
Will he blame me? Will Namor? I couldn't save her. I couldn't save any of them.
The black on my arm is still crawling on my skin as the thoughts rush over me. It continues to crawl and move up to neck like vines. It reaches my face and it's like ice is going over it. I can feel it going for my eyes and I welcome it.
I hear laughter and more voices around me, but my only focus is that sadist laugh.
Camazotz.
He did this. He killed Namora. He killed my father and Andres.
Let me out.
A seductive voice says in my head. My voice. Only it doesn't feel like me.
Let me play. Let me out.
Someone dropped next to me and is shaking me but I don't look at them. I can't take my eyes off Namora. Anger takes over my senses and I see is red. All I feel is red hot anger.
Yes. Yes.
The voice says.
Let us show them what they created.
Someone is grabbing my shoulder trying to take me away from Namora. But I don't move an inch. The only thing on me that moves is the black under my skin. Like ink to water. And I don't fight it.
Time to play.
I am no longer in control.
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