The sun sets over the Pope Plantation. All of the slaves retire after the masters do.

They attend to the masters, before they retire. Here, they place ice under the mattresses, rather than hot coals.

Thomas snores away in his barracks. For once, he doesn't have to share his quarters with anyone.

All around his quarters, he's stashed cloves of garlic. He's got a lantern, near his bed, that generates UV light. It looks a LOT like the Green Lantern's lantern, that Alan Scott wielded in the JSA comics... And the underside of Thomas's bunk is freshly stocked with wooden stakes; all blessed by the Catholic Church of the CAU, and the Russian Orthodox Church.

Russia sure seems to have a lot of interests in the Pacific these days. Crazy...

In the cellars, the slaves sleep on either cots, or rugs on the floor. They don't wear much when they sleep...or at all. But then, that's expected. Clothes and tropical labor don't really mix...except when it comes to sun protection, and maybe bug repellant...

Many struggle to get comfy. They're still not used to this life, after a lifetime of it...

Impatient, starving, and sleep-deprived, Carolyn, the lone black slave here, paces up and down between the rows of rugs and cots. Below her, her fellow slaves wish she'd stop. She doesn't. Unlike other bitches, she thrives on neither food nor rest.

Out here, all the slaves' relationships with the public is at stake. Carolyn's committed to doing something about that. She doesn't care that she's the only slave who is. The public is the only thing out there that has the power to lift her up to a fucking goddess's status...

She pants, and keeps pacing. All around her, her mothers, sisters, and daughters in slavery struggle to go to sleep.

Carolyn freezes in her tracks, and looks around. She's got a feeling that there's something out there...

In the many jungles on these islands, there are shadows. By day, they conceal all sorts of freaks of dark magic.

In such a shadow, a pair of red eyes open, and glow. And they narrow.

From it, a pair of prosthetic front feet emerge, and set themselves down. They're spring-laced mechanical tekko-kagi; weaponized garden tools that East Asian farmers sometimes use.

From behind them, a pair of prosthetic legs emerge. Behind them, a pair of natural legs follows...if anyone would call them that.

Back and forth from a great rear end, a long barbed tail probes around, like a cobra's head.

All over the creature's back, bony spikes are generated. Many of them are like thorns. They're all stiff. Their owner can shed and re-generate them at will.

Out of the jungle, he lumbers. He sees the sea. He slides and rumbles towards it, depending on how the ground cooperates with him. If these prosthetics used to hurt, they don't anymore.

Ankle-deep in the waves, he stops. He senses blood. He looks in its direction. It's a penguin.

He's not sure what it's doing so far away from its flock. He doesn't care. Or rather, he does. From his neck, he sprouts a very long proboscis. He plunges its end right into the penguin's sensitive spot, and drains every drop of blood from his bloodstream. The penguin gawks and gapes, as he's drained of his liquid life.

The light leaves the poor bird's eyes. He falls right back into the water, from where he came. He wasn't born in it...but if he's anything like his fathers, brothers, and sons, he probably wishes he was...if he could've been guaranteed an orca-free home to be raised in.

Nourished, the monster sheathes his hose, and wades into the depths. He submerges.

Down here, he sprouts his hose again. He makes contact with the surface, and respires. His hose elongates, as he treads deeper.

At last, he stops. He's surrounded by shadows. The gravity here is pathetic.

Some of the hills are coral-covered. Like the spikes on the monster's back, the coral can be bony out here.

The monster scans these underwater badlands, waiting for his subject to show himself. He sure likes to take his time...

From the canyon's shadows, the subject emerges. He's like a tiger shark...only with vampiric characteristics. For every fin of his, he's got a much larger red sub-fin, that's frilled and barbed. The end of his tail is sickle-shaped, and very sharpened.

His mouth is like a catfish's; alas, all of those whiskers are tipped with the heads of lampreys. There are two dominant ones, that act as probes, and flash their many teeth to anyone who gets too close. Those two lampreys are to this vampiric tiger shark as a squid's two forearms are to its owner.

Before himself, the monster conjures a wooden chest. Telekinetically, he opens it...in the tiger shark's direction.

The shark poises, gags, and vomits a hoard of gold into the chest. A few hermit crabs come out, too...and crawl away.

The shark swims away. The chest closes itself, locks itself, and vanishes.

The monster sighs, through his hose, turns, and makes his way back to shore. Behind him, a trio of tuna swim past. With his tail, the monster impales one of them, spooking the other two back into the Pacific's depths.

Back in the Pope cellars, Carolyn's still stopped... Alas, she shuts her eyes, shakes her head, and keeps pacing.

She never talks about it, but she just can't stop thinking about Thomas Grant, that new guard from the NAU mainland. There's just something about him...