In the House with Chicken Feet (7)

When Hin first woke up, he was sure he was dreaming. It would make sense after all. He was curled tightly into a ball, warm and secure. It had all been a dream; some crazy fantasy about his curse. Secure in the knowledge that he was safe, he fell asleep again.

When Hin next woke up, he was sure it was a nightmare. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't scream. The walls around him glowed an orange-grey and they slipped and flexed around him. And then there was a bright, watery light and Hin was dumped out onto the slick floor, dripping something that oozed and stank and filled his eyes and mouth and nose.

He clawed at his face, screaming and coughing and curling into a ball on the floor, trying to clean his nose, to breathe, anything.

There was a great belching noise to his left and he flinched away from it. Something wet slapped against the floor by his head and he smeared his face clean enough just in time to see the rest of Tua's legs emerge from the gullet of a fish... man... thing that towered over them. The boy was covered in slime and he lay limp on the floor. The fish-man slapped its mouth - nearly as wide across as Hin's outstretched arms - open and closed a few times and then stared blankly ahead.

Hin waited to faint, but he didn't. Instead, he vomited. The color of his bile was the same as the slime that coated him and Tua; orange and grey and pink.

The other man wasn't moving. Hin barely finished heaving before he scrambled to his hands and knees. The fish-man was gone, he realized, somehow not there anymore. Hin twisted his head around, blinking through the haze, but there were just blurs of color and none of them scrambled to Tua's side. So he did instead.

"Hey," he said, afraid to touch the other man, but afraid not to. "Hey! Are you okay?"

Tua was clearly not okay. His skin was green beneath the tan, turning him yellow. Hin sniffled and then coughed as slime caught in the back of his throat. He tried to feel for Tua's pulse, but his fingers slipped and slid and he couldn't feel anything but ooze.

"C'mon, c'mon. Wake up!" Hin was trying to shout, but all he could do was whisper. He wasn't sure if it was the gobs of slime between his teeth or the way his throat burned from his own vomit or the fact that the stifling silence around them felt too large, too silent, too... sacred, as if it would be wrong to break it.

But Tua was dying. Or something. Maybe he was already dead. Hin couldn't tell. He gripped at the gooey front of Tua's shirt, the tight grip on the fabric squeezing out slime that oozed between his fingers, and clambered up to lean over the man's prone body, shielding it. It was all he could manage to do. His feet slipped in the slime on the floor, scooping trails of it in the webs between his toes. He was pretty sure he was crying, the tears getting lost somewhere in the stuff on his face.

There were more fish people around them, he realized as he tried to smear the gunk out of his eyes. They were floating around, then, above them, beyond some kind of wall, like glass. Hin looked down between Tua's arm and side and below them, the floor was the same. Even as he glanced down, an eye, distorted by the puddle of slime and as big as a dinner plate, slipped into view. It stared at him for a long moment as he froze in shock, and then slipped away again.

A bubble#FF0000 ">, they were in a bubble#FF0000 ">; surrounded like a fish in a bowl. Hin whirled around, his hair sticking to his forehead with the slime, and flinched as face after face became apparent, flitting into watery view.

It was like his window, gazing out into the bottom of the ocean.

"Tua, wake up!" Hin shook the hand still fisted in Tua's shirt, causing his head to flop back and forth lifelessly. His mouth opened, a film of slime spreading across the opening. And then, almost lost in the squelching of Hin's toes, a low, thin groan came from the man's throat. The film of slime shimmered and then imploded into the boy's mouth as he suddenly gasped. His eyes flew open and Hin yelped as a wiry arm shoved him away. He sprawled onto his back as Tua suddenly shot up, hacking wetly.

"Otter-son," a voice burbled, echoing through the little bubble of space, even above the horrible thick gasping coughs coming out of Tua's mouth. Hin felt the vibrations shimmering through the surface under his shoulders. He flinched away from it. He was supposed to be panicking, he realized. The air felt thick and hot.

Tua had gathered his limbs into a crouch, hunched over with one hand resting on the ground to support himself. He was glaring through the floor. Above his head, Hin could see, shimmering glimpses of scales and eyes flashed by.

"Where is the Otter, Otter-son?" the voice echoed. "The witch hid you from us. You have hidden the Otter from us. Where is the Otter?"

Tua didn't answer. He looked over at Hin, and the other boy flinched as Tua all but crawled over.

"Are you all right?" Tua asked, gripping Hin's shirt and dragging him up into a sitting position. Hin tried to nod, to say yes, but his throat seized and he started coughing once again. Tua looked away from him, glaring warily out at the walls of the bubble, but his hand stayed on Hin's shoulder.

The air was getting thicker, Hin realized as he gasped for oxygen. He wanted to faint, to make it all go away. An eye, framed in a face that was far too human-looking and yet so very not-human, peeked at him from between his knees and he shrieked a little. What was holding the bubble together, anyway? Why weren't they popping it with their elbows and knees? He tried to curl himself into a ball, but that just put him closer to the eye and he had to pull away from it. Tua didn't look at him, but his fingers curled into the fabric of Hin's shirt, not letting him roll away.

"Otter-son," the voice said again and Tua narrowed his eyes as a figure, slippery as an eel and with too many fluttering limbs, hovered just outside their bubble, "you will answer."

And then there were hands reaching through the walls of the bubble on all sides, stretching it and sounding like fingers over a balloon. They forced their way into the space, breaking the seal and letting water rush in. Hin screamed as the water poured over his face and chest, pushing him down onto the floor again with its weight. Tua was shouting something but he couldn't hear what it was over the sound of the water.

Then arms wrapped around his waist and his leg and there was a terrific sense of pulling and pushing and he couldn't breathe and he couldn't see and his lungs were filled with water and everything was quiet except for an angry keening somewhere muffled by something.

"Otter-son," the voice rang out, and it was clear and loud and running all through Hin's blood, "you will tell us where the Otter is."

Hin wanted to wake up.

When Hin first woke up, he was sure he was dreaming. It would make sense after all. He was curled tightly into a ball, warm and secure. It had all been a dream; some crazy fantasy about his curse. Secure in the knowledge that he was safe, he fell asleep again.

When Hin next woke up, he was sure it was a nightmare. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't scream. The walls around him glowed an orange-grey and they slipped and flexed around him. And then there was a bright, watery light and Hin was dumped out onto the slick floor, dripping something that oozed and stank and filled his eyes and mouth and nose.

He clawed at his face, screaming and coughing and curling into a ball on the floor, trying to clean his nose, to breathe, anything.

There was a great belching noise to his left and he flinched away from it. Something wet slapped against the floor by his head and he smeared his face clean enough just in time to see the rest of Tua's legs emerge from the gullet of a fish... man... thing that towered over them. The boy was covered in slime and he lay limp on the floor. The fish-man slapped its mouth - nearly as wide across as Hin's outstretched arms - open and closed a few times and then stared blankly ahead.

Hin waited to faint, but he didn't. Instead, he vomited. The color of his bile was the same as the slime that coated him and Tua; orange and grey and pink.

The other man wasn't moving. Hin barely finished heaving before he scrambled to his hands and knees. The fish-man was gone, he realized, somehow not there anymore. Hin twisted his head around, blinking through the haze, but there were just blurs of color and none of them scrambled to Tua's side. So he did instead.

"Hey," he said, afraid to touch the other man, but afraid not to. "Hey! Are you okay?"

Tua was clearly not okay. His skin was green beneath the tan, turning him yellow. Hin sniffled and then coughed as slime caught in the back of his throat. He tried to feel for Tua's pulse, but his fingers slipped and slid and he couldn't feel anything but ooze.

"C'mon, c'mon. Wake up!" Hin was trying to shout, but all he could do was whisper. He wasn't sure if it was the gobs of slime between his teeth or the way his throat burned from his own vomit or the fact that the stifling silence around them felt too large, too silent, too... sacred, as if it would be wrong to break it.

But Tua was dying. Or something. Maybe he was already dead. Hin couldn't tell. He gripped at the gooey front of Tua's shirt, the tight grip on the fabric squeezing out slime that oozed between his fingers, and clambered up to lean over the man's prone body, shielding it. It was all he could manage to do. His feet slipped in the slime on the floor, scooping trails of it in the webs between his toes. He was pretty sure he was crying, the tears getting lost somewhere in the stuff on his face.

There were more fish people around them, he realized as he tried to smear the gunk out of his eyes. They were floating around, then, above them, beyond some kind of wall, like glass. Hin looked down between Tua's arm and side and below them, the floor was the same. Even as he glanced down, an eye, distorted by the puddle of slime and as big as a dinner plate, slipped into view. It stared at him for a long moment as he froze in shock, and then slipped away again.

A bubble#FF0000 ">, they were in a bubble#FF0000 ">; surrounded like a fish in a bowl. Hin whirled around, his hair sticking to his forehead with the slime, and flinched as face after face became apparent, flitting into watery view.

It was like his window, gazing out into the bottom of the ocean.

"Tua, wake up!" Hin shook the hand still fisted in Tua's shirt, causing his head to flop back and forth lifelessly. His mouth opened, a film of slime spreading across the opening. And then, almost lost in the squelching of Hin's toes, a low, thin groan came from the man's throat. The film of slime shimmered and then imploded into the boy's mouth as he suddenly gasped. His eyes flew open and Hin yelped as a wiry arm shoved him away. He sprawled onto his back as Tua suddenly shot up, hacking wetly.

"Otter-son," a voice burbled, echoing through the little bubble of space, even above the horrible thick gasping coughs coming out of Tua's mouth. Hin felt the vibrations shimmering through the surface under his shoulders. He flinched away from it. He was supposed to be panicking, he realized. The air felt thick and hot.

Tua had gathered his limbs into a crouch, hunched over with one hand resting on the ground to support himself. He was glaring through the floor. Above his head, Hin could see, shimmering glimpses of scales and eyes flashed by.

"Where is the Otter, Otter-son?" the voice echoed. "The witch hid you from us. You have hidden the Otter from us. Where is the Otter?"

Tua didn't answer. He looked over at Hin, and the other boy flinched as Tua all but crawled over.

"Are you all right?" Tua asked, gripping Hin's shirt and dragging him up into a sitting position. Hin tried to nod, to say yes, but his throat seized and he started coughing once again. Tua looked away from him, glaring warily out at the walls of the bubble, but his hand stayed on Hin's shoulder.

The air was getting thicker, Hin realized as he gasped for oxygen. He wanted to faint, to make it all go away. An eye, framed in a face that was far too human-looking and yet so very not-human, peeked at him from between his knees and he shrieked a little. What was holding the bubble together, anyway? Why weren't they popping it with their elbows and knees? He tried to curl himself into a ball, but that just put him closer to the eye and he had to pull away from it. Tua didn't look at him, but his fingers curled into the fabric of Hin's shirt, not letting him roll away.

"Otter-son," the voice said again and Tua narrowed his eyes as a figure, slippery as an eel and with too many fluttering limbs, hovered just outside their bubble, "you will answer."

And then there were hands reaching through the walls of the bubble on all sides, stretching it and sounding like fingers over a balloon. They forced their way into the space, breaking the seal and letting water rush in. Hin screamed as the water poured over his face and chest, pushing him down onto the floor again with its weight. Tua was shouting something but he couldn't hear what it was over the sound of the water.

Then arms wrapped around his waist and his leg and there was a terrific sense of pulling and pushing and he couldn't breathe and he couldn't see and his lungs were filled with water and everything was quiet except for an angry keening somewhere muffled by something.

"Otter-son," the voice rang out, and it was clear and loud and running all through Hin's blood, "you will tell us where the Otter is."

Hin wanted to wake up.

Hey Gryph!

Just to note: I haven't read any of the previous chapters.

First impressions;
This is definately interesting, the title, plot and characters. It seems more like something that I would read to try and disect, rather than for sheer enjoyment. Even though I have an interest it's more a curiosity of the style and prose rather than the story.

Grammar
To a grammar Nazi there is work to be done here. There are a lot of incomplete sentences. Like here:
"But Tua was dying." But is a connective, it goes between two clauses to connect them together. Here it isn't really connecting anything so it's just a word that has no purpose.
"A bubble." This is just a word, it's not really a sentence. To make it complete you would have to add a verb, like 'is' or 'was'.

Commas, commas, lots of commas.
You use an uberload of commas. Sometimes short clauses are a good way of increasing tention but whe you use as many as in this piece it just slows everything down without really adding. Remember that when writing it's easy to imagine things as you would say them, when you need to remember to imagine things as you would read them.
Perhaps you're relying on them too much to create that tension. I get the impression from this line: "He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't scream." Instead of using all the different clauses, think of what it is you want to get across by using these commas and put it into words rather than punctuation.

What they wrote and what they'd been writing.
Try to keep your verbs to one tense, it makes them much more powerful. For example; "His feet slipped in the slime on the floor, scooping trails of it in the webs between his toes." Here the word 'scooping' seems to lose its effect because it falls into a different tense. Maybe it's the extra syllable, or the soft 'ing' sound, I'll admit I don't really know why it happens, it just does. It's better to break this into two sentences or re-arrange it.
You mostly use these words when trying to add one action on to another, so maybe you could just use the first action of him slipping, and add some description that would show how it feels betwen the webs of his toes.

Overall?
Whether this is an experimental piece or not, I still think it's good work. It's better to stand out than to blend in, and this certainly stands out as a very unique piece of work in many positive ways. Keep it up