You sit on your towel, your arm around your lady as you sip some sort of fruity drink she passes you. It’s not too bad, but you’d rather have a beer, you think. Still, you have to say you enjoy the view. Your lady is beautiful, her body perfect in the bikini she brought for the occasion. Her perfectly shaven and silky legs go on for miles, her pert C cup breasts are beautifully accented by her suit, and her lovely butt teases you as she stands up. She slowly bends over to apply more sunscreen, enough that you get a full view. You know she is just doing it to get you going, and you admit to popping a boner even in your swim trunks. As with every night so far of this vacation, you’re getting lucky tonight, the best lay you’ve had in ages, and this week she’s all yours!
You left your girlfriend of two years recently after she’d found you cheating with the girl you see in front of you. If your former partner had been home more and shown the physical intimacy you’d been craving, then the thought of finding a side chick wouldn’t have occurred to you, you are certain. But when the opportunity arose, you couldn’t say no, and a one-night fling turned into a regular two-three time a week affair. Admittedly, you felt a little bad, not dumping her the moment your current belle came into your life. You’d promised her as much, but there was something about sneaking around that was so… exhilarating. You’d hoped you could at least bring your ex here to have a little fun on your planned vacation, experience the best of both worlds, as it were. But she caught you in the act, much to your embarrassment. Oh well. It was fun while it lasted.
Still, you had the ticket already, and buying another one for your new fling wasn’t too much for your bank account. There was no point letting such a trip go to waste, right? Part of you wanted to go alone and see what kind of tail you could score on an island resort. But, your current belle was rather insistent she join you, and after all, she was so attentive in bed! You figure you’ll keep her around for a while, telling her you didn’t want to get too attached coming out of the other relationship and wanted to see where things went. You weren’t planning on dumping her or anything, but you didn’t really love her. Still, it was better than nothing while you figured things out.
The resort, while a bit pricey, is well worth the investment, you think. It is situated on a reef, and near where you are lying is an area to suit up for guided dives. Your girl wants to go, and you tell her, in a day or two, you’ll oblige her. There aren’t any dolphins or the like near here, but it still might be fun to see the beauty of the reef while such things are still vibrant and healthy. At least this one is well maintained by the locals, protected to allow its tourist trap to flourish.
Much to your delight, the beach is full of women, each more gorgeous than the last. Of course, you’ll never say that to your own date, but you are sure that she sees your wandering eyes. Still, what does she expect? You left another woman for her, after all. And now that you are out of the relationship, you want to explore your options. Still, she doesn’t seem to mind too much. You are a man with needs, after all. And you are pretty sure she loves your bank account as much as your cock, though you’ll never hear her say that aloud either!
All of a sudden, she leaps up, running towards the surf and giving you a knowing wink as she teases you to chase her. This part of the resort is by the waterline, and she’s been begging to go for a swim. You like the adorable way she runs, showing off her assets, and you figure what the hell and jump up to pursue her, wanting to have a little fun before your bedroom escapades. You chuckle as you pick up your giggling girl before carrying her to the waterline as she fanes distress. You jokingly toss her into the water, and she splashes a bit, teasing you once more as she runs into the surf. She’ll get the swim she wanted, playfully so, and soon you’ll get what your groin has been craving ever since you watched her undress before you this morning!
Just then, a scream echoes in your ears, and you intuitively look around, wondering what the panic is. A woman, wet from her swim, tries to reach back to feel something arching from her spine. She is hunched over, looking pained as though she had been struck by something in the water. Did something get stuck to her back? A jellyfish, perhaps?
You aren’t prepared for the sight that greets your eyes as she turns around, exposing the thing that is causing her distress. Protruding from her back are two fin-like structures, one higher up and significantly larger, with one lower towards her asscrack. They appear to be flesh-colored, as though they are protruding out of her skin. In fact, you can’t see anything attached to them, nothing to explain their presence. Did she simply… grow them? That’s impossible, isn’t it?
Yet what you see next confirms your irrational fears. She moans as she doubles over, something sticking out of her ass and pressing against the fabric of her bathing suit. Trembling, she reaches down to rub the thing with her hand and shakes as it twitches from her touch. The bizarre growth in her suit seems to writhe uncontrollably as she shrieks once more. The thin material of the suit then bursts open, and the skin shaped protrusion starts wagging back and forth in freedom. The extension appears to be a tail as you watch the tip forming a pair of sail-like structures you think must be fins.
Suddenly all around you erupt yells of panic, and your eyes fall on three women running towards the one in distress, calling out her name. She opens her mouth to cry out to them, but then her voice is suddenly cut off, and she raises webbed hands to cover her face as though in shame. Her friends around her now, the woman removes her hands off her mouth, and the visage it reveals nearly makes you gag. Her lips are pulling away, releasing teeth that are falling out of her mouth. You immediately think she has injured herself. But her empty gums soon erupt with several rows of pointed teeth. She opens and closes her mouth in horror as the entire opening starts to curve slightly, particularly at the ends.
You watch in stunned silence as one of her friends reaches out to pat her back, as though to comfort her. Suddenly the second woman yelps in pain and pulls her bleeding hand away, as though unsure of what has caused the injury. You can see a pale brown patch of skin spreading down the first woman’s back, black patches forming within a denticle-covered shark skin encompassing the flesh of her back and fin. Yet that has not caused the injury. A second, pointy tip seems to be poking out just behind the dorsal fin, its shaft rising to lay in wait and hidden out of sight by the fin itself.
Finally removing yourself for your drunken stupor, you decide to seek out your girl and get outta there. You don’t know what’s going on, but you don’t want to be here anymore. She has evidently been oblivious to transpiring events and is still in the water. She sees your disgusted expression and starts to race towards you, wondering what is amiss. Yet as she does, she suddenly flops over, not as if tripping but rather as though she no longer has legs.
You race to aid her when the sight of her flesh makes you gasp. Her feet, her legs, and her hips are simply dissolving away, turning to jelly as they bloodlessly fall off her body in a splat on the sand. Soon there is no trace of them on the beach, not even a drop of moisture to denote their former presence.
She tries to scream, but not a sound comes out, as though her vocal cords no longer exist. She looks to you for help, but you can already tell the features in her face are starting to distort, the skin paling towards that pallid shade her legs acquired before dissolving away. Her eyes, her hair, her nose, and even her skull dissolve into a jelly-like substance. She desperately tries to reach up a hand, but you can tell that the neural connections in her mind are removed with the rest of her mental facilities. It falls helplessly to the ground and starts to turn pallid and dissolve, as is the rest of her.
Yet she is not dead, as near as you can tell. Her change is much more drastic, but something is still happening to her mutating torso. Her contours, her folds, and, much to your disappointment, her breasts, melt into the fleshy mound of her torso. You stare helplessly as her skin starts to thin into a translucent gel, and in horror, you realize that you are seeing through her, the outlines of organs and bones, and other things no one should have to see inside a live human being.
All her bones, muscles, and tissues are turned to jelly and fade into nothing, evidently not required for her simple shrinking form. Parts of her system seem to light up before their familiar structures begin to melt away. Nothing remains of her bones, head, lungs, liver, stomach, or even anus as all are eliminated in her new primitive. All that lingers is the empty sack of her trunk on the ground.
You want to run to your girl’s aid, but part of you is scared to touch her. She is changing much faster than the shark-woman, and you wonder if that is a result of the less complex change she seems to be undergoing. You have no idea how she is changing, but what if it’s contagious? You yell something about going to get help, but you don’t believe she can heat you. In truth, her changes make you want to vomit, and you wish to distance yourself from them, if at all possible.
As you do, you notice the girl with the shark fins is shrinking, allowing her swimsuit to fall to the sand and exposing her naked body. You can’t help but think that you would have found her attractive, had she not been a little pudgy. But now that layer of fat is melting away like butter and taking away the contours of her femininity. Her breasts dissolve into her torso as her entire body grows streamlined, the dark brownish skin on her back giving way to a pale yellow that runs all the way down her flattening belly. You try to get a look at her sex, more for curiosity than any lust towards the partially shark-woman. Yet you can’t see anything save for a pair of fins growing from the edges of a fading slit, now completely obscured from view.
The shark-girl’s friends are struggling with protruding growths from their back ends, seemingly confirming your fears. Yet these three women appear much smaller in their bathing suits as they shrink rapidly before your eyes. Their tiny tails sit exposed to the air, the tips forming twin thin webbed fins. Their entire bodies shake violently as hair and nails fall away, and a small fleshy lump rises from their spines, reminding you of the dorsal fin that the shark woman sports. But this one is greatly reduced, with fin-like ripples adorning the far side.
Their bathing suits fall off, and their twitching tails writhe frantically as their skin starts to bubble into raised scale-shaped patterns. Arms reach out in desperation but rapidly go limp, hanging useless from their torsos as the fingers form a fine webbing between them. Their shapely breasts are gone as well, flattening into a torpedo-shaped body as their asses recede, and their reduced genitalia merges with what remains of their anal canal. Their eyes grow wide, at first in terror, but then by design, as they become the lidless eyes of fish. Their pupils become round, and the eyes swell to nearly the entire diameter of their heads.
Your mind is racing from the horror all around you. What the hell is happening? How can people simply melt into new shapes, looking far too much like the myriad of marine life that exists in the nearby reef? You would think yourself drunk or high, but the screams of terror and shocking profanity echoing in your ears alert you to the knowledge that it is indeed happening. Yet it doesn’t matter why. What matters now is escape!
Almost every other beachgoer sports nightmarish appendages as they try in vain to flee. Several have fins poking out from their ass or back, constrictive until their shrinking bodies make their clothing obsolete. Some of the changes mimic the Lovecraftian horror you witnessed happening to your girl. Those unfortunate souls collapse into sacs of flesh, lacking the piscine appendages that would at least still allow them motility.
No one seems to be spared from the changes, which fills you with worry. You catch a glimpse of your hands in the sunlight, and the sight sends shivers down your spine. Your fingers are stretching longer, losing the ability to articulate! You frantically try to move them, but it is as though the signals are no longer reaching your hands. Your fingers seem to be thinning, stretching outwards as the skin begins to discolor to a pattern of brownish-red and white. More bumps start to protrude from the thinning flesh like additional fingers from your non-existent palms but soon project at various angles beyond the span of your human hand. Fuck, it’s happening to you too!
You moan as something starts pulsating from your back, and you are instantly reminded of the dorsal fin you’ve seen sprouting from so many other former humans. But instead of a single fin, as many seem to possess, multiple spines are bursting forth from your own flesh, at least four or five, but you can’t be certain. You are afraid to touch them with your other hand for fear it will spread the changes there as well. Glancing, back you can see them lengthening above your neck as something slimy and webbed pokes up behind them. You can feel your skin growing colder as patterns of brownish-red and white skin scales spread down over your flanks.
Your ass starts to ache as your spine begins to extend, a tiny protrusion that thickens and wriggles as your shorts fall off. You want to pull them up, but you don’t bother. Most of the beach patrons have lost their clothes, and even if your penis is on display, you don’t think you’ll maintain one for long. The writhing appendage above your ass seems a little short, the peculiar sensation of spine-like fins swaying independently at its tip, making you nauseous.
Even with your own changes, the horror befalling the entire beach makes it difficult to avert your gaze. As much as you know you should try something, anything, to reverse the changes, you aren’t sure what will help. So many people appear to sport piscine features now. If their transformations complete away from the ocean, what will become of them? You decide to hold your ground, for now, looking around at the panicked masses for guidance.
One man desperately tries to remove the shirt that has become tangled by a spiny protrusion sticking out of his back. Yet the webbing in between his swelling digits makes the task difficult. He requests assistance from a woman beside him, his wife, by the looks of it. Yet she is undergoing her own series of piscine mutations, struggling with a skin shaded protrusion pulling at the back of her loose pants.
The man seemed unable to work his digits in any meaningful manner as an agony-inducing crack radiates from the joints and tendons within. You watch him desperately trying to operate the fingers, but it is obvious they do not flex the way he requires them to. The webbing seems to thicken as hand as the shade of his skin lightens to white. The tips of his fused fingers grow pointed even as the forming fin encompasses any trace of its former human shape. The entire tip pushes outwards, unhindered by bone or muscles as it flattens into a piscine fin, the protrusions where his fingers once lay leaving only thin ridges.
With an audible snap, you hear the bones in his arms start to break apart, the complexity of the human limb dissolving away. His arms grow limp, and the remaining flesh starts to reabsorb into a flattening trunk. You can see him trying to move them desperately, but it is no use. The entire surface reduces into a single elongated triangle hanging from a melting shoulder blade that the poor man can no longer control.
His thinning chest starts to press at the edges of his shirt as his belly thins laterally and widens dorsally. A strange fin pops down from below his belly as all the features of his chest start to melt into the streamlined piscine anatomy he is evidently developing. You can see a bluish sheen coat in his form that you assume is made of scales. Like his wife, he too is sporting a growth above his ass that seems to wiggle in discomfort.
His wife, meanwhile, seems to be shrinking in her own clothes while a wiggling bare-skinned tail pushes away her underwear. You can observe its pointed end forming twin fins as it stretches down half the length of her body. Her eyes glaze over, and she looks to her husband, trying to mutter something akin to “I love you”. But the words fail to escape her mouth as her bottom lip presses outward to form a piscine underbite and her mouth gaps wordlessly. You can see small, pointed nubs where her teeth once were, and her nose melting into protruding fish lips as her hair falls away while her forehead starts to slope. You wonder how much intelligence she retains in her changed state with her head as distorted as it is.
Bits of her skin become exposed as her shirt falls off her, a mix of blue and white with dark spots as a long, rectangular fin protrudes from her back. She is helpless to pull her clothes back on with compacted shoulders and thinning arms, but there is nothing for them to cover, like so many of the other piscine women on the beach. It seems like such a waste to you to see their breastless chests growing streamlined, their cloacal opening the only thing remaining of their sex. Yet even you berate your sex-starved mind; these women, these people are losing far more than that. They are no longer human. As soon you will be.
You see her reach out one hand to hold her husband’s, the one still retaining an obvious wedding band. But as soon as the two hands touch, both slip away from one another. Their tactile abilities seem to dissipate as fingers begin to fuse. A tear rolls down the husband’s eyes, though his wife’s own cannot cry ever again.
The shark girl is still changing, standing now about 4. 5’. Yet it is her head that gives you the most fright. Her human hair is dropping from her head, leaving her bald, but that is the least of her worries. Her skull cracks as it starts to dissolve abruptly, caving in on itself as the area where her mouth once protruded pushes outwards. Her nose widens, giving her visage a box-like configuration as her mouth runs down the lower part of her head. She tries to blink a few times, but even at this distance, you can tell her eyes are changing to black, and she stares in your direction with soulless orbs. The bones under her skull, or cartilage now, you assume, start to form ridges above each eye as her head continues to warp.
You wonder if her skin is getting dry or irritated. She reaches up, rubbing the spots around her neck where a series of small slits are beginning to pulsate under her touch. You realize in horror that she is developing gills and that it is likely her lungs are collapsing inside, losing their ability to extract oxygen from the air. Soon her arms fall away from her thickening neck as they lose the ability to rotate. The webbing between them fills in and forms curved structures as her shoulders sink into her trunk.
You stand there, as stiff as a statue, unsure what to do. You want to run to the resort, but if your changes complete, you know you too will soon have gills. You don’t want to die on the beach, suffocating without knowing why this is happening to you. Any life is better than none, right? And maybe there is a way to change back. A way for both you and your… but no.
The decision is literally taken from you as the changes accelerate. Your own lungs start to burn as you feel a tingling ripping down your fat neck, an opening making itself known as a flap of hardened scales sticks out from your cheeks. You’re growing gills! You want to reach up with your remaining human hand to feel them, but even that too is robbed from you as your fingers burst out into spines. Your shoulders crack as they compress into your thinning truck, and the ability to flex what remains of your arms is lost.
Right now, survival is the only thing on your mind as you dash towards the ocean, racing to the only salvation from death, perhaps an even more dire fate. You spare one last glance at all those whose fate you now share, desiring to see what happens to them while you still retain your human awareness.
At last, the shark woman, evidently suffocating and desirous to live, despite the grotesque changes to her form, makes her way into the water. Her legs are starting to give out, wobbling as the skeleton and muscle all started dissolving at once while thick webbing forms between her toes. She wades out to her waist before her legs give up, and with a splash, she falls into the ocean. Her tail starts thrashing, and soon, she is gone under the waves, likely forever.
Her friends, too, are quick to join her, their shrinking bodies making the journey arduous. Their thickened necks force their eyes to the sky, now almost half the size of their heads. Their jaws curve into frowns that open and close as though gasping for air. The reason is apparent as a large gill slit opens up to be covered with a thick curved scale. The scale patterns covering them are uniform, glinting silver in the sunlight, save on the flesh of their shrinking heads which are devoid of them.
As soon as the frigid waves touch their skin, a layer of webbing encompasses their feet as their limbs lose all motility. Yet the fall is not too far for their tiny fusiform bodies as they slip into the waves, the last bits of their humanity altering before they disappear from sight. They have become sardines now, though you don’t know or care about the species. They will likely find a school to feed with and spend the rest of their short lives trying to dodge the myriad of creatures that prey upon them. Will that be your fate, as well?
With immense trepidation, you decide to gaze in the direction of your former lady, now a pile of gelatinous mess on the beach. Yet there is a pattern there that you can readily recognize. The ballooning flesh of her stomach seems to have formed a thin circular membrane around her entire translucent trunk. You can see the primitive remains of her internal organs, reduced to only a stomach and an array of four glowing gonads that are forming a series of loops in a horseshoe pattern.
Yet the most distinguishing feature is her near translucent epidermis that has extended from her trunk in a circular pattern, though it is difficult to discern from the dilapidated shape it has collapsed into. Still, you can make out the umbrella-like pattern that has become of her sides, and a slightly more bulbous “head” where her torso once was. And in the center hangs several sets of growing whips, though unable to move by their own power. You think they resemble tendrils of some form though you can’t be certain.
Thankfully she is close enough to the surf that the waves pick her up and pull her towards the ocean with each crash onto the shore. You are thankful for that. You would throw her into the sea if you still had hands, but you know her translucent tentacles contain thousands of cnidocytes, poisoned barbs which you have no idea how will affect your changing physiology. Her? Does she even have a gender anymore in that body? She is moon jellyfish now, swept into the sea as her motor neurons fire, and her umbrella-like body ungulates as she moves away.
At this point, many of the beachgoers are making their way to the water, understanding their eventual fates. The initial changes seem not to take away their legs or lungs, which you view as some small relief. Yet some people stubbornly cling to the hope they will find salvation at the resort and are struggling to balance their massive tails and shrinking legs even as their gills form. You don’t want to think of what might become of them if they don’t make it to water.
The married couple are among those that decide that they would rather live as fish than drown on the beach. The woman seems to be struggling as her legs began to weaken. You can see her husband wants to reach out to help her to the sea but no longer possesses the limbs to do so. Her clothing has fallen off her frame now, and you can see pelvic and pectoral fins hanging from her belly, currently useless. A second fin has grown above her back, and her arms are cracking as the webbed hands start to recede into her streamlined trunk. There is nothing left of the human appendages as her collapsed shoulders draw in the remnants of muscle and bone, leaving only a pair of triangular fins that beat uselessly in panic.
She is hardly able to move as her paired fin tail begins to drag along the damp beach, the webbing between her toes more prominent as they start to dissolve. She stumbles forward, only a hair’s breadth from the life-giving water. You can see her silver-blue flesh glistening in the sun, scales dotted by black as they darken towards her back and remain light on her belly. The pattern of a prey species of fish, you begin to realize.
The man’s changes are nearing completion as well as he desperately tries to make it to the water. He is smaller than his human self but significantly larger than his former wife. Like her own, his eyes start rolling back in his head as he loses his eyelids, forced to forever stare straight ahead. His lips pucker and push forward while his head flattens and starts to compress, hair falling out to make room for his spreading blue scales. The flesh of his head is nearly black, while his belly is white, recognizably common piscine camouflage.
His own tail fin grows more pronounced as his legs start to web and shrink into what will be his anal fins. You can see a pelvic fin protruding from where his belly was, but his truck has already flattened so much it hardly looks out of place. He stumbles forward as did his wife, though he still retains much of his legs. In a last effort to save her life, he uses his bulk to push her forward enough that she reaches the water even as her legs give out completely. Her new tail is sufficient to push against the beach and into the waves. Her husband, too, takes the plunge into the ocean where he will likely spend the rest of his days.
Eventually, both seem to swim away. But you can’t help but notice the predatory look in the former man’s eyes as he watches the spotted mackerel dash away in front of him. The reality of the situation hits you full force with a pang of sorrow. He is very nearly a bluefin tuna, a predator of many species of smaller fish. There is a very high likelihood that even if he did retain his memories, he would have no way to know each day if the prey he consumed was once his wife.
It is soon to be your life, too, as your changes race on, and you need to either join the ocean ecosystem or forfeit your existence. You can feel new soft rays fanning from your back, lower than your main spines, and flowing down towards your anus once was. They are smaller and closer together than your dorsal spines, but still flexible, if not under your control. Part of your intellect recalls they are poisonous, and the large cycloid scales that accent your former human skin serve as a warning to potential predators. Your spines contain a potent toxin that can be dangerous even to humans. You are at least thankful that you will be safe from predation in your new life, but that is of little consolation that you will be spending that life as a fish!
As your shorts fall away, you glance down at your flaccid maleness for what might be the last time you have the flexibility to do so. Your penis is being drawn into your body, your testicles following with a disgusting slurp of flesh. You can no longer even feel them inside you as your rectum starts to move down your peritoneum and closes in on the hole where your penis once lay. You perceive a sickening sort of tug as the two internal openings merge into a single pore, one that will release your sperm as well as your waste from now on. You can’t even tell if you are still male!
You can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for the human life you have lived. It is a silly thing to reflect on your life and have regrets, but you do. You were not the best person, even on your good days, caring too much for your own pleasures and desires. But even so, you weren’t any worse than so many other people spared this fate. What crime have you committed to have your humanity robbed from you in such a humiliating and disgusting fashion! ?
Yet the changes seem to have no intention of stopping. Your face bubbles around your chin as the entire surface begins to flatten, the changes to your skull reverberating through the air as your entire facial structure rearranges. Your eyes start to bulge as your lids disappear, a different type of membrane now covering them. The world blurs, your vision limiting and better suited for aquatic life. You can feel them ballooning out of your head as they find their place near the top. You can still hear the crunch of bone and flesh, but that too is soon robbed from you as your ears fade away, evidently unneeded to your new body. Yet there is nothing to hear on the beach, the screams of panic forever lost as the last sets of vocal cords are made vestigial.
It is difficult to see as your neck thickens, and your head is unable to perform dorsal or ventral movement. Yet you are still aware that your lips are growing puffy, thickening as your lower lips press outwards. Little is left in the bones of your teeth as they become pointed, your gizzard, and gullet the primary source of predigestion now as small pointy spines are all that remain in your mouth. Parts of your still-human skin begin to droop from your lips, forming fleshy growths whose purpose you can only begin to guess at.
Your body is so much smaller than before, and the crunch of your ribcage and spine resonates through you, even though you can no longer hear. Your entire body is thinning painlessly, even as the circular scales take shape over what remains of your pale human flesh. You can feel a sickening squelch as more spines pop out from where your chest once was, waving in the air as you desperately try to struggle to the surf. You know you don’t have much time. Your hips are aching and starting to fade as much as your arms had. Your toes are starting to splay, separating into multiple protrusions that will soon be anal spines.
The blessed water is so close, and your legs are about to give out. You leap forward, your belly hitting the surf with an almost painful slap, but the water is deep enough to pull you along into the sea. You are somewhat aware of the last beachgoers making it to the surf as well, and know that the ones that have not are lost to this world. Yet it is getting hard to focus on such things as your mind grows fuzzy. Part of you is terrified as you slowly start to lose yourself. But you have no control over your actions as your thrashing tail propels you out into the sea.
You start to submerge yourself, craving the comforts of the deep ocean, and afraid of being above the tides. Yet as you start to sink, you realize that you have no control over your tail. At first, you think it is a survival instinct, but soon it is clear your body indeed has begun to react of its own accord.
You are still aware of your new anatomy and take a reprieve from the fear to fully engulf yourself in the sensations of being a fish. You can see in front of you, but there isn’t much of interest until you reach the bottom of the reef, and the light makes it difficult to discern familiar shapes or patterns. Yet your other senses easily compensate. The vibrations your whiskers can detect are far more acute than touch, literally reaching for miles into the ocean. Your lateral line intercepts the electrical signals of other creatures, and that in turn elicits a hunger response. You are a predator, you realize, forced to eat other fish that might have been human once like you. But with the needs of your new body, you have little choice in the matter.
You are now a lionfish, steadily making your way into your new habitat near a reef ecosystem. You are tired from the changes and the new circadian rhythms in your form. You will fully awake in a few hours as the moon rises and start to feed, on crustaceans, mollusks, fish, and anything else that resides on the bottom of the ocean. You might also seek a female to perform a complex mating ritual with, that you might spill your seed over her eggs and spawn the next generation of your kind. Part of your human self is still there, and may always remain, aware of all the actions of your piscine form. But without control of your mind, you find it easier to let your thoughts sink into the fish you’ve become as you begin your new aquatic life.