Chapter 2 – Clamp Attack

Money certainly was a factor to Serge16.

The prize was one of the richest companies in the world’s piggybank.

You’d have to be crazy not to participate.

At least, that’s what Serge thought as he walked the coastal areas of the island. His Voltorb rolled along side of him, having a little trouble maneuvering in the sand.

“I wonder if Mega told our families about what was happening.” Serge asked himself. He stretched as he walked, and ran his hand through is wavy blonde hair.

Serge honestly didn’t believe that his parents would care about him. Dad was a convicted felon, and in prison. He must’ve been more than happy to see Fedora’s goons break him out for that short time. Mom was a two-bit whore, turning tricks in Chicago. She probably jumped at the chance to experience any bit of luxury Fedora offered her during the kidnapping.

Serge frowned, and reached down and picked up Voltorb. Voltorb was a little heavy, but he could carry him fine. Voltorb seemed pleased that it no longer had to struggle to move about in the sand.

“Is it a kidnapping if the people kidnapped are old folks?” Serge asked Voltorb. Voltorb let out a buzz, as if to say it didn’t know.

The waves gently fell on the sandy beach, and Serge briefly thought of escape. He wondered if he could swim far enough out to find a boat or something. He knew the rules said that escape was forbidden, but there had to be some way of getting off this island and escaping with his life.

He wasn’t built that well for endurance. He was kind of lanky, but muscled a little more than the average guy was. Plus, he was briefly on the swim team during his freshman year of college, but a terrifying encounter with a shark off the coast of California laid a permanent end to him getting in any water. Ever. He found himself now getting chilled and weak kneed at the thought of swimming.

“No. I was brought here, might as well make it fun.” Serge said.

His mind raced back to his home. His friends. He didn’t care about his family at all. Hell, Mega could’ve killed them. No worry to him. All that he cared about was his girlfriend.

Serge and his girlfriend (a pretty cheerleader only 23 years old) had been dating for 2 years. Serge was completely sure he had fallen in love with her. He was sure that she had fallen in love with him. They spent as much of their time together. Some joked that they were grafted to each other’s legs.

Serge looked down at the seashells on the sand and thought of her. She loved seashells. She had a collection of them back at her home. He figured bringing her Fedora’s cash along with one or two seashells would show her just how much he thought of her on the island. He hoped it was at least good enough for some head.

He got on his knees and gently put Voltorb on the ground. He began running his fingers through the sand, searching for the perfect seashell. A large wave crashed on the shore, and washed up a particularly large purple shell near Serge.

Serge looked at it, and smiled. It’d be a little bit of a pain to cart around with him all this time, but it’d be worth it. His girlfriend was the woman of his dreams. Oh, yeah, plus the head was good.

Serge reached down to pick it up, and the shell slowly opened itself. Serge stopped, and laughed at his foolishness. It wasn’t a shell. It was a clam. Still, good enough for his girlfriend.

He reached down to pick it up and the shell opened itself wider and wider until he saw a small blob of black inside of it. Two eyes stared at him from the blob, and slowly a tongue began to inch its way out of the blob. Serge stared down at the clam-creature, a little mystified by what he was seeing. The clam quickly made its move.

It jumped up onto Serge’s nearest hand and clamped itself down on it. Serge quickly stood up and screamed as the shell thing clamped down harder. There seemed to be an orchestra of cracks coming from Serge’s now broken hand.

Serge waved his hand about frantically, trying to get the shell off of him.

“Electrocute it!” Serge yelled at Voltorb.

Voltorb began to glow, a small arrow of electricity flew at the shell. Serge was still flailing about and waving his hand, and the electricity missed the shell. Voltorb fired off another blast of electricity, and once again missed because Serge was flailing.

“Aaaaaaah!” Serge yelled. He looked down at his wrist that was protruding out of the shell’s mouth, and saw blood freely pour out from it. He waved his hand once more near his face, and the shell deftly let go of his hand and clamped itself on the front of Serge’s head, shrouding his face in blackness.

Voltorb fired off a burst of electricity, and missed once again. Serge was moving too fast! Serge fell backwards on the ground, blinded and unable to see because of the shell on his face. He heard someone laugh and heard Voltorb fire off a blast of electricity. He heard the sound of someone kicking something, and then a splash in the water.

The shell squeezed harder, and Serge felt incredible pain in his cheeks and jaw. He felt his teeth grind and tear into his other teeth. He felt the enormous pressure in the front of his, and screamed.

The shell tightened itself once more, and that was the end of Serge.

The back of Serge’s skull ripped open. Blood poured out onto the sand. Serge’s brains soon were spread out, turning the yellow sand into a dark red. The shell released itself, and spun around. It looked at the man standing above it, and hopped up and down.

“Damn, Shellder. You should’ve seen how far that Voltorb flew. It was like I was kicking the world’s lightest football.”

Shellder began to rub itself in the sand, trying to get the blood and sinew off of it. The contestant above it smiled.

“Jesus, don’t worry about that there blood. Ain’t no thing. It’ll wash. But, hey, not in this water.”

The contestant pointed out in the ocean, and Shellder saw the shiny red of Voltorb floating in the sea. The contestant picked up his Shellder, and walked away from the brainless corpse of Serge.