Heavy waves rock a boat in the middle of the ocean. A large scientific vessel in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle area filled with Black Eagle soldiers and research staff keeping tabs on The Triangle and checking for unusual activity. Their job is simple: Maintain the anchor buoys, and look for signs of dimensional leaking or Cryptid activity. Any and all anomalies are reported directly to the main headquarters. Everyone on the boat moves with precession, they have gotten used to the conditions out here. At the helm, the older gentleman steers the boat with professional accuracy. He grumbled lightly to himself. “The water's choppy tonight, more than usual. But it's not raining or storming yet. Hopefully things calm down soon. It's hard to get anything done like this.

  Eventually, the waters do calm down, and the anchor is set while the crew looks for damages. The captain was finally able to be at ease as the sky cleared. “The sea has been extra temperamental lately. Something big’s a comin’, I feel it in my bones.” The old captain takes a seat in a chair near the wheel and watches the now calm seas. “But for now, I'll just enjoy this calm.” After allowing himself to relax in the chair with his hat over his eyes, the elderly captain fell asleep in his chair, taking a well earned nap.

  Eventually someone busts through the door. “Captain Abraham! We've found something unusual!” “?The captain was quickly woken and sighed. “Aye, the classic “Come take a look at this” cliche. Yeah, just give me a minute.” The older man got up from his chair and followed the younger crewman. The crewman led the captain to one of the analysis rooms where inside a transparent cage was a large ugly fish with some red substance on it. From what the captain could tell, it was an angler fish. Despite being out of water in the cage, the creature continued to flop around. “What exactly am I looking at here?” Captain Abraham asked.

  The crewman gestured to the red mold-like substance on the fish. “We spotted this ugly mugger way deep near a thermal vent of some kind. This stuff looks like algae or mold but the sample we analyzed was like nothing we've ever seen. It seems in line with the Cryptid psudo-dna crap but its frequency isn't like anything on record. If it's a Cryptid it didn't originate from a fear, or anger, or lust, or child-like joy, or even hope. Whatever spawned this hasn't been recorded as a spawn point. Not only that, but carbon dating of the rocks it was growing on and parts of the substance suggest it's older than recorded history. Maybe even older than the Antarctic temple group Delta found.”

  The captain rubbed his chin. “That would mean this thing has been under the sea floor since The Great Cataclysm of Atlantis. One of the original Cryptids. But weren't all of those fear and rage based?” The crewman nodded. “Based on the information gathered by Subject Beta extracted from Subject Alpha, that would be the conclusion. However, that information is incomplete. Subject Alpha would have had a limited point of view and Subject Beta only got the information in chunks. The extraction wasn't perfect or even intentional according to the reports.”

  The captain continued to rub his chin. “I've read all the reports on Subject Beta. I don't understand how it can be allowed to function as an asset of Black Eagle. Is Director Hawkes insane?” The crewman shrugged. “The success rate of Subject Beta missions is undeniable. It's the only asset with a one hundred percent success rate. It's captured, killed, or safely relocated every Cryptid it has been sent after. It even aided in two cases outside the jurisdiction of its handler and both cases were solved. Including a forty year old cold case that was dropped.”

  The captain nodded and hummed. “It still makes me uneasy, knowing a monster like that is allowed to roam free. Were it up to me Subject Beta would have been contained or killed as soon as I was aware of it. Helpful or not, if there is even a one percent chance that… thing might turn on us, we should treat it as an absolute certainty.” The crewman nodded. “Hawkes felt the same, but apparently the board disagreed. Hawkes may be the Director, but he's not the Black Eagle owner. Even he has bosses and people he has to listen too.”

  The captain sighed and looked at the still flopping fish. “Shouldn't that fish be dead by now?” The crewman looked at it. “Yeah, about that… according to our scans it's technically already dead. The substance is hijacking its body somehow while it eats it and forcing its body to stay alive even if it's effectively braindead.” Captain Abraham continued to rub his chin and stroke his beard. “So if it didn't spawn from fear or hate but is an original Cryptid… what could it have spawned from? All of the first round Cryptids should have been from what most people consider negative emotions.”

  One of the lab techs walks over. “Does that really matter? It's a Cryptid, we treat it the same as everything else we deal with that can't talk. We contain or kill the monster and contain any information about it. We don't always find what spawned a Cryptid, it's not always obvious. Knowing that just helps us lump it in a category.” Abraham nodded. “Yeah, I guess you're right. Keep doing scans and maintain containment until we can hand it off to a proper lab. Send another diving team to look for more just in case. Contain or eliminate all subjects found getting fed on by the red substance.”

  The orders of Captain Abraham are carried out as he checks the rest of the ship for activity. Everything seemed calm so he stopped in the mess and got himself a meal. He sat and ate some of… whatever it was he was served. It looked like grey goop in a bowl and tasted like cardboard with the texture of slime. He sighed knowing they couldn't eat the fish here. Especially if that algae-like substance has spread. They were going to have to close down the entire area and come up with a cover story. An oil spill or something. They needed to keep normal civilians out of the area until it was safe.

  Captain Abraham took his radio and called in the find so the area could be closed off. He let out a sigh of relief once that was finished, knowing that the area would be sealed off and no one would get hurt by wandering in by mistake. Once he was done with that he relaxed in the ship’s cabin for a bit, completely unaware of how badly things were going to go for him and his crew. Unaware of what exactly it was he just welcomed onto his ship. Unaware that his days were numbered.

  Meanwhile, back in the lab, several more specimens with the red substance on them were put in containers. All deep sea specimens. The science team continued to annualize the data, unaware of what's to come. They think it's safe, because the specimens are contained. Not a single worry hits their minds as they take samples and handle them with care. Unaware that all it would take was a small mistake. One small mistake was all that separated them from the end of their worlds.

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  A lab tech loads up a petri dish and starts to examine it under several different kinds of microscope, trying to learn as much as possible. The red still still moves even after being removed. The lab tech noticed that the speed the red stuff eats has been slowly building ever since the samples were brought to the surface. They didn't think too much about it, thinking it was just reacting to a change in pressure or temperature. They weren't tracking the rate the metabolism of the thing was growing. It went from slow crawl to suddenly finishing its meal in under an hour. Now the angler fish was just a red lump, completely consumed by the substance.

  One of the lab techs decided to test the substance's reaction to heat. Putting the small container over a bunsen burner. The substance becomes extremely active and starts hitting the walls of the container. The tech loses grip, and the small sample hits the floor with a crack. The tech jumped slightly at the clumsy mistake and the sound it made. “Crap. Thing leaped right out of my hands.” He went to grab the container, getting a small cut from the broken container. He placed it in a larger container before running to wash his hands. It was too late however, the damage was done.

  The lab tech shook his hand before putting a bandage on his finger. A small cut. He has no idea that that small cut has already ended his life. All it took was a small mistake and now everyone on the ship is doomed. Not a single soul here is ever going to see home again. But for now, they remain blissfully unaware of their future demise. The lab tech continued on with his day until later on he felt ill and ran into the bathroom clutching his stomach. Sounds of pain, anguish, and regurgitation echo from the bathroom. Then after some short screaming, silence.

  Meanwhile the rest of the ship is unaware of the danger that has begun on the ship, completely unaware of their dark fate. Unaware that they are, each and every one of them, already dead. Crewmen and lab techs walk the ship, completely clueless as to what's going on. The mess hall is filled with people eating, the captain sits at the bridge, samples twitch and writhe on containment cells, getting more active in response to the increase in its mass that the people on the boat are unaware of. The lab tech with the cut is no more, just a mass of red sludge with teeth moving through small air vents and piping. All it knows is endless hunger. It is gluttony given form.

  Captain Abraham left the bridge to start waking the outer area of the boat. He pulled out a ton of cigarettes and pulled the only one in it out. He doesn't light it, just holds it in his mouth. On closer inspection one would find its fake, made of wood. Only existing to substitute an old habit. He let out a sigh as the sun set on the calm seas. The calm before the storm. A storm he won't even live to see. Somewhere in the shadows of the dusk, the sounds of creaking draw the captain’s attention. However he shrugged it off and started walking his way down the deck of the ship.

  Unbeknownst to Abraham, the red mass of flesh that eats crept towards him on the ground. Moving slowly, stalking like a predator. It leaps, making a sound as it pushes up its mass from the deck causing Abraham to turn. His face fills with horror but he can't react fast enough to do anything. He is already dead, he just doesn't know it yet. Part of the mass starts forcing itself down his throat as the rest latches to his body. Abraham wants to scream, but he can't. He starts to suffocate before he feels a burning sensation all over his body. Somehow he knows exactly what is happening.

  His body, its cells, aren't just being consumed. They are being transformed. The parts of his body disassembled and repurposed for the needs of the creature. His mind is still intact, but his body already belongs to the creature. Eventually, the pain ends as his consciousness fades and everything goes black. He finds himself standing on the oil rig he once worked on before joining this crew. The memories of his traumatic experience were nothing but a distant fog. Although his mind was fading, although he was already dead, his body was forced to continue. Now a part of the endless hunger. Nothing more than a part of the flesh. The flesh that eats.

  The rest of the shit is still blissfully ignorant. Moving unaware of the danger or why the samples are acting up. The flesh moves forward, aiming for the lab. Aiming to be whole once again. Its hunger is stronger here, its movements are faster. No longer slowed by the cold of the deep. But it still feels that cold. Parts of its whole are still down there. Waiting. Grabbing whatever biomass it can and reshaping it in the effort to gather more. All it knows is the endless hunger, all it knows is the bottomless need. All it does is in the pursuit of more.

  Sliding through vents and air ducts, the now larger mass moves unnoticed. It makes its way to the lab, to reclaim what it has lost. Two lab techs move around the lab doing work. “Hey Bob, have you seen Josh?” The female tech asks. The male tech responds. No Sarah, I haven't seen him since earlier today. He was running to the bathroom holding his face looking pale as hell. Mess food must have not sat right. He'll probably be holed up in the bathroom for hours. I haven't gone in there to check. I imagine it smells like death in there.”

  The lady tech makes a sound of disgust. “Yeah… gross. Not that I blame him. The mess food is gross too. Though I understand that we can't exactly eat the fish here right now.” There was a sudden thump and the two lab techs started looking for what caused it. While they're looking the flesh moves unseen in the shadows before putting a part of itself on a containment unit and working its way to the sample inside. It quickly dies the same for the other samples before starting to move on. It doesn't leave the room though. After all, there was still food here.

  The techs notice the empty containment units and run for the lockdown button. However, the male is grabbed by a stretched out thread of red that hits him on the back of the neck. The flesh had him. The lady tech managed to hit her button and the alarm blares while the boat locks down. As the flesh pulls in the guy, now working its way through parts of his now trapped body to use them for its needs. It shoots a part of itself at the last tech to start breaking down and using her body for parts it plans to use to put in more food somehow.

  Elsewhere as the alarms go off the rest of the crew get ready and start moving to try and contain the entity. With vents and doors locked the flesh in the lab is sealed off from the rest of the boat. Unfortunately for the crew, the flesh is Legion. All its parts connected regardless of separation. All its parts hungry for more. Calls are made, people are notified of the situation, Black Eagle gives its orders. Contain or kill the anomalous entity, at any costs.

  Crew grab flame throwers and wait outside the door, expecting it to be contained. To their surprise a second threat came from the water. A mass of red flesh and miscellaneous parts taken from different deep sea life. Dozens of crab legs arranged like a centipede, tentacles from deep sea squids and octopuses, and other bits and bobbles amalgamated together by the red mass. It let out a strange sound, produced by a borrowed voice box of a dolphin. A distorted sonic cry. Then it moved, faster than anyone would expect the amalgamated mass of parts and flesh to move.

  Quick skitters of spider-like grab legs drum like an ultra fast death march as the mass moves in a blur to attack the closest crew member. It stabs them with a leg while grabbing a second with a tendril. The other crewman started shooting at the monster with flame throwers but the heat and fire only seemed to agitate it further. It quickly grabs the crewmen, slowly adding them to its mass. The flesh attaching to, claiming, and funding new uses for the parts of its new meals. Before he loses all ability to move, one crew member uses a radio to send a message.

  The creature then started breaking down the door from both sides before the two large amalgamated masses lumped together and started moving and reassigning parts. The ship was claimed, now void of humans, void of food, but anchored far away. No one was coming anywhere near the ship, not with the area already quarantined and the message sent. The amalgamated mass of flesh simply sat on the ship making distorted sonic cries. There was nothing in the area left to eat, but it still hungered.

  It simply waited in the dark, crying out to nothing for a while as the boat was rocked by the waves. It couldn't sense any food nearby, even the area of water it had command of was now empty. All it could do was try and draw in something from beyond its reach. Matching sonic cries both outside and in the water. Distorted cries meant to draw in curious animals and potentially even humans from further out. It wailing continues as the sky above it ripples softly. Its crystal stopped its noise to look up, and shrinks down, sensing a larger predator may be on its way soon.