#river monster

[briefbestiary]

An aquatic beast, known for its tendency to devour human beings.

[shady-tavern]

Preview for "Dark Waters" the December Short Story

(warnings ahead for implied murder and death, mentioned fevers and illnesses and attempted kidnapping. Please be sure to take care of yourselves!)

*.*.*

Everyone knew the river was off limits, that the nearby old bridge that led across it was half broken and the rushing, deep water beneath was deadly all on its own. But that wasn't the reason everyone chose to walk for miles to a solid stone bridge which stretched over a wide, shallow part of the river in order to cross to the other side.

That the old bridge was too decrepit to cross was just an excuse, since someone could have repaired it long ago. No one would, however, for a monster lived in this part of the river. Dangerous and deadly, he had dragged many a foolish mortal to a watery grave.

Sometimes Lyna could hear singing on the wind when she left her hometown, a luring tune that could sound melancholic or cheerful, depending on the monster's mood. 

Not everyone was careful of course and sometimes she heard stories of people who disappeared, of backpacks and torn clothes being washed onto the shores of the lake the river was feeding into. At least the monster didn't live in the lake her hometown was built around, Lyna thought to herself, or there would be more deaths.

Merchants grumbled and complained every time they visited and local traders were just as exasperated and annoyed with the long way around they had to take to get to them, but no one risked anything. 

The town had banded together twice in her childhood days to pay for a monster slayer, once for a famed duo and once for an entire group. Both times the warriors had ended up dead, their bodies washed ashore, the wounds grisly and frightening.

Whatever lived in the river, it was powerful, so no one messed with it. Slayers were expensive as well and since the town itself never got attacked, they had accepted that they could not cross the river wherever they liked.

In the grand scheme of things it was a rather minor inconvenience, Lyna knew that. Everyone knew that. But people were either lazy or efficient, depending on the point of view and the added detour kept rankling at everyone.

Being helpless rankled at everyone.

Lyna personally didn't worry too much about the river as she grew up, only when she started to apprentice under the local alchemist and potion maker did it become more relevant. There was a special herb that grew only on river banks and another one at the bottom of rivers, the former useful for salves that healed burns, the latter used for ointment that made people look fresher and healthier.

She accompanied her master on long trips down the river until they were clear of the monster's, quite frankly massive, territory. Of course they weren't the only ones who sought the herbs. Other towns and villages that housed herbalists or even just knowledgeable folks who home-brewed some things came to these safe spots to harvest.

Lyna and her master always managed to gather enough to stock up their supplies, but every time on the way back, she saw the overgrown riverbanks of the monster and the herbs that grew there in plentiful quantity. 

When they got closer to the town, about a mile away from home, the riverbanks even rose to form cliffs and along those cliffs grew plants she wished she could get her hands on, because they could create marvelous healing potions.

If her master and she wanted to get those kinds of herbs, they either had to wait until a trader brought them or they traveled for two days themselves to another part of the river with cliffs. 

Though, again, they were hardly the only ones to do so and often enough they had arrived to find everything already harvested, the craggy surroundings empty. Traveling two days for nothing was rarely worth the risk as well, so their town only had a very small, carefully hoarded amount of healing potions.

Often enough, when the road brought them too close to the river, Lyna could hear the monster. It had taken her a while to realize that it was making noise on purpose, that it wanted them to know it was keeping pace with their mule pulled cart. She was never able to figure out if he meant to be cruelly playful or just straight-up threatening.

Aside from that, however, life was good. Their town was doing well, the people were largely content and they had visiting bards and performers who brought joy and stories and the occasional scholar that sold and bought new books.

Lyna made enough coin for herself and her grandmother, who had raised her after her parents had died when she had been a babe, to live comfortably. Her grandmother's lady friend had moved in recently to stay with them after her children had left for the capital and the home had grown lively with conversations and was always filled with amazing food.

Lyna found all her clothes mended before she could get around to it herself, a new scarf knitted and a new cloak made of a dark, river-green color replacing her old, worn one, to keep her dry and warm in bad weather.

It was all going well until a fever swept through the land. Many merchants slowly but steadily cut down on their trading to try and avoid spreading it, while towns and villages grew wary of outsiders. The bards and performers were asked to either no longer visit or to stop in their town and stay until the sickness had passed before they traveled again.

Lyna and her master were busier than ever, brewing potions and creating salves, drying and selling herbs to be ground into food or burnt to create cleansing smoke. Their stock dwindled fast and soon they had to go on many trips to try and stock up.

Right up until the fever reached their town as well. It started out small, with a family here and there, until suddenly half the town was sick. Lyna's master herself was one day locked away in her cabin, refusing to come out and sounding weak and raspy.

"Wouldn't it be best to close the shop for now?" her grand-aunty, her grandmother's best friend, asked worriedly when Lyna returned home. "You are putting yourself at risk."

And them as well. Lyna frowned, eating dinner quietly as she mulled over things. That evening, as she sat with the two elderly ladies in front of the fire, one knitting and the other sewing, she came to a decision.

"I'll move into the potion shop. Just for now," she hurriedly tacked on when they both looked up sharply. "Just until we made it through this. People need medicine and I want to help. I'll make sure to come by and chop wood and carry water, but I won't come into the house, just in case I get sick too."

Her grandmother was quiet for a long moment, exchanging a look with her friend. "You will save a healing potion for yourself," she said and lifted a hand when Lyna tried to protest. "I will not lose you, Lyna. I lost too much already."

Lyna did not tell her that they had no more healing potions left at the shop. Otherwise her master would have healed herself instead of retreating into her home to avoid spreading the illness further.

*.*.*

Would you like to read more? Head over to my patreon! A new short story is posted every month and there are plenty others available for reading already. I hope you'll enjoy what you find! =D

[scuttlebuttink-blog]

Only 4 days left on our River Beasties enamel pin Kickstarter campaign! Visit our website to place your preorder! ScuttlebuttInk.com

[bluegoblinzz]

Octransfur day 1: Loop

Grey clouds were rolling in above the river, and wind was picking up, making the river man shiver. It looked like it was going to storm, but he did not want to get lost in the woods, so he realized he needed to find a better path to get to the village faster. Up ahead was a delta, where the river broke into two different streams. He was familiar with the path on the left, as it was the one he took every day. But the one on the right… he heard it was a faster, more efficient path but it was dangerous, for there were river monsters deep in the water. Nevertheless, he took that path, for he did not want to be punished for being late, nor did he want to get caught in the storm. 

Besides, it would be nice to break out of the loop of his daily life, and do something new for a change. 

And thus, he paddled away from the roaring rapids to the left, and paddled his raft into the eerily still, deceptively calm waters to the right. He felt his heart beating faster, and he couldn’t tell if he was shaking with fear, or shivering from the cold. He looked over the side of his raft. The water was perfectly clear, but tapered off into an obsidian darkness. It was mesmerizing but also unnerving. So instead of focusing his attention downward, he then focused on the trees to his right. Except the river got wider and wider, making the trees get further away, and making him feel more isolated. 

The river curved clockwise, and around the bend, there was a large stone statue. It appeared to be hundreds if not thousands of years old, as the stone was unpolished and had many imperfections and details wearing away. The statue was of a finned humanoid figure, with webbed hands, webbed feet, gills, and pointy finned ears. He appeared mostly human aside from those features, and he was holding a trident. The riverman was fascinated with this statue, as he had never heard of it, nor had he heard of a god with this appearance. Maybe there was a village hidden somewhere nearby, with a shelter there. But he felt a few droplets as the rain began to fall, so he knew he had no time to explore. 

The wind picked up speed, and so did the river, except as the river flowed, the surface of the water remained flat, as if all the water moved as a single unit. He paddled faster, cutting through the glassy water with ease. He would every once in a while look around him to see if there were any monsters, and then look forward at where he was going once again. But then, the glassy stillness of the water abruptly changed as rain began pouring. He swore to himself, and squinted to keep water out of his eyes, and to see through the rain. The rain soaked his clothes, making them soggy and heavy, so he took off his shirt and tossed it backwards. The rain, unexpectedly, felt warm, which made him stop shivering from the wind, but being stuck in it was still unpleasant. 

After another minute of paddling, he noticed a large stone structure by the water. When he squinted through the rain, he saw it was the same statue he passed by earlier. His first thought was that there might have been multiple statues, but he then noticed the trees looked the same and he remembered the way the river was taking the same clockwise turns over and over… was the river… flowing into itself? 

When he passed the statue again, the river sped up some more. His raft jerked forward from the unnatural acceleration, and he slipped, and fell onto his behind, dropping his paddle which splashed into the water. His stomach lurched and his heart pounded faster, as he searched for some idea to keep his raft steady, but as he thought he learned he had something else to panic about.

Every raindrop that hit his skin turned a bright blue, and then it settled for a moment before becoming thicker and viscous, fusing with his skin and turning it blue as well. He looked down in horror at all the blue splotches of skin forming and spreading across his body. As more rain fell, and the blue spread across his chest, arms, and legs, there was soon more blue skin than his caramel skin color. With a shaky hand, he pressed a palm against his chest, feeling this change… it was wet and slimy. 

It was only another minute before he passed the statue again. He looked at it in horror, pondering what kind of god was this and why a god would ever do this to him. And then the raft jolted forward once more, picking up speed. The water rushed and tumbled inward, spiraling toward the shore, causing the raft to tip. Many of the riverman’s goods fell into the river, and sank deep into the obsidian water. 

The riverman nearly fell in as well, but he gripped the side of his raft, attempting to pull himself out of the water, and fight the current that was trying to drag him under. As he was trying to pull himself back up, however, he couldn’t help but notice a tingling, tickling feeling in his legs and lower back. His left leg felt numb, but he felt pushing and pulling sensations in his right leg. The sensation was strongest in his feet, as if two stones were pressing on either end of his feet, and flattening them out. 

Finally, he pulled himself out of the water, and onto the raft, and he tried to stand, but his legs didn’t bend, and instead, flopped in place. He turned his head and looked back, and gasped. Where his legs once were was a large dolphin-like tail, its skin slimy and bright blue. He screamed and tried to squirm, trying to stand up, but merely flopped around, shaking the raft. He eventually pushed himself upward in cobra pose, and settled in a position similar to a kneel. 

The next time he passed the statue again, its head turned to follow him. He turned away from the statue attempting to hide his head. 

The same type of tickle that was in his legs emerged in his back and in the front of his hips. He looked downward to find two bumps emerge where his tail fin met his torso, and the bumps grew larger and pointer, forming two angular fins. He attempted to stay upright but he was forced to hunch forward as something was pushing on his back. He reached around his back, and felt a large pointed dorsal fin growing there. 

But as he was feeling his dorsal fin, he noticed it was harder to move his hand, and all his fingers moved together. He brought his free hand back around and looked at it. The slime on each of his fingers grew thicker and thicker, the skin on his fingers growing floppy and baggy, until it grew so long, that the skin on each of his fingers fused together, it smoothed out and became thin and tight, forming webbing on his hands. Each of his nails also grew smaller and smaller, the tips of his fingers growing wider and ball shaped. And then, starting at his wrists, bright circles formed and began emerging across the inside of his arms, spreading like hives. The bright circles swelled and became bumpy, and eventually curled inward, separating from his skin, and forming suction cups. 

He was already terrified and confused by all the changes that were occurring, not knowing how to change back nor how to control his raft again to get to shore to find help, nor knowing what would become of him if he failed. But he did not know the changes would go from scary to pure terror until soft indentations on his neck formed, before splitting into fissures. At the same time his nostrils shut and his nose shrank, becoming a mere bump and then becoming flat. His chest heaved as he tried to inhale, air kept coming in but would immediately be pushed out by his convulsing lungs. He held his throat, gasping for breath, but nothing would happen. Finally he kicked off of his raft, dunking himself under the water, and taking a breath inward through his gills. 

He felt relief as he breathed in, he took a moment to catch his breath and to greatly appreciate each breath he took. Taking deep breaths in, he felt his heart slow down, and his anxiety subside. But soon, the clear obsidian water took an intoxicating effect on him, making him feel sleepy and relaxed, making him forget why he felt panicked in the first place, and making it hard for him to think in the first place… He felt a strange happiness wash over him, an animalistic sense of hunger and of power, forcing a grin to wash over his face. 

He allowed the looping river to carry him as he underwent the final changes. His eyebrows, eye lashes, and hair all retracted into his skull, finally causing his whole body to be smooth and hairless. His ears flattened out and fused with the sides of his head as well, leaving two small holes for hearing. The crown of his head grew larger and larger, his skull softening, and as his head grew he felt his minds, his thoughts, and his memories slip away from him…. It was such a joyful, euphoric, and satisfying feeling letting all of the information spill out of his brain and letting in the darkness, the chaos, the infinite, the primordial. 

Two final changes took place. First, his eyes shrank, and turned to voids of darkness, temporarily making his vision fuzzier, but then his sight cleared he noticed his peripherals expanded, and  slowly he was able to see more and more clearly. he realized he had grown an extra set of eyes beside his own.

Second, and this change was one of the most dramatic of all of them his tongue grew fatter, and longer, and eventually, it grew so long it forced his mouth to open, and it continued to grow forward. His tongue was the same texture as his skin, blue and slimy, the bottom of his tongue having suction cups like his arms did. The back of his tongue fused with the roof of his mouth, and the middle fused with his teeth and upper lip. The front of his tongue formed a fleshy curtain that blocked the opening of his mouth, and four nubs formed on the bottom of it. The nubs grew into points, and then those points grew into short articulate tentacles, which hung downward and obscured his chin. 

He reveled in the changes, he reveled in his new life in the looping river, he reveled in his freedom from his stagnant life, and he reveled in the new power churning within him. The surface of the water stopped rippling; the rain had stopped. The river carried him by the statue again he swam toward it, peeking his head over the water, and looking up at the god who stood there, he bowed his head out of reverence and let out a low hum as if praying to this god, thanking him for the new life he was gifted. 

Deep into the river he went. He dove down deeper and deeper into the darkness, swimming in circles as he searched for food. And as he was searching, he found a fishhook. His eyes narrowed with malevolent satisfaction, and he tugged on the line. The line tugged him upward, but he tugged back harder, overpowering the force trying to pull him back to the air. There was a big splash, and he reeled his catch in with determination and hunger, until he was eye to eye with his prey. 

[theyareweird]

Monster High: Gillington Webber's Profile

Despite being one of the first characters to be introduced into the Monster High franchise, Gil wasn't given a proper profile for a long time. By the time one was released, it wasn't in a website format like the earlier releases for character profiles. With that, this article will feature Gil's full profile.

Parent: The River Monster

Age: 16

Killer Style: I wear shorts, flip-flops and T-shirts to make me feel like I fit in on land. But my helmet means I can't ever wear anything tight round the neck.

Freaky Flaw: I have a certain amount of fear of the open sea...

Favourite Activity: Swimming!

Biggest Pet Peeve: I totally can't bear it when my monster parents dictate what I have to do.

Favorite School Subject: Maths. When I grow up I want to be a hydro engineer. So I'll need maths for that.

Least Favorite School Subject: Horror Literature. I'd rather read textbooks than novels.

Favorite Color: Blue, like crystal-clear water.

Favorite Food: Seaweed. I know it sounds slightly exotic for a freshwater monster, but it tastes freakily good!

Pet: Right now I don't have one, but I really dote on Lagoona's pet piranha, Neptuna.

BFF's: Lagoona Blue and Clawd Wolf.

[jlilycorbie]

I wrote a story teenage me needed, about feeling displaced in the world, searching for somewhere to belong, struggling with coming out, and being haunted by a river. I like to revisit it for pride.

If it’s a story you might need, too, you can find it over here.

[paranatura-verse]

Name: Koi Age: 30 Gender: Male Pronouns: He/Him Species: River monster Place of Origin: River Stour, Kent

A typically bad-tempered river monster, well known for his unique colouration. He's quite wary of humans, avoiding parts of the river that cut through towns or cities (and sticking close to the riverbed if he does have to travel through them). He spends most of his time with his partner, Leaf.

[jarofrebukepodcast]

Happy Audio Drama Sunday! This week we'll be celebrating another one of our cast & crew members: Jason Larock (he/him) @jasonlarock - the voice of the Blue Lady, as well as another new upcoming character! 🗝

He's also been part of Nexilis Games, Dream Daddy: a Dad Dating Simulator, Night/Shade: You Are the Drug, Badlands Cola, and more! ��️‍🌈

"Jar of Rebuke" will be returning in summer 2023! More updates can be found on our social media pages and our Patreon page. 🦌

Image ID: a cast & crew promo graphic with a photo of Jason Larock (he/him) and includes the information typed up above!

[phlebasthebroenician]

Jeremy wade my beloved

[lovelyllamasblog]

Gillington “Gil” Webber 🌊

Son of River Monsters

Birthday: January 30

Star Sign: Aquarius ♒

[insane-control-room]

Flow

ink demonth day 7

WARNINGS: implied/referenced death, drowning

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49188652

length: slightly short (500 words)

He bobs down the river, flows along. It's good, right? Safe here. So he thinks.

Henry stared at the ceiling, watching the lines of wood move closer and further with every bob of the boat. He was waiting for something that he did not know how to word, and it was an uncomfortable notion in his chest. He found, oddly enough, that the hand that would otherwise shoot up and murder him by destroying his entire little boat, would not come up if he did not look at the waters- or inks- and so there he was, lying on the boat and simply letting the current’s flow take him wherever it damn pleased to take him. 

He did not know what he wanted, all he knew was that he wanted another moment to think, to think, to watch the ceiling panels move as he bobbed up, and ebbed down that river of ink. Charon? That was the name of the river spector, right? The one that would grant passage down into the land of the dead. 

Well, damn that, because he is already in hell. He does not need any further passage into that land, and if this boat would reverse course and jolt him back to life, he’d pay double. How about that, Charon old boy? 

Henry first felt the splash before he felt the pressure, and he saw a glimpse of white before it all turned to black. He struggled and writhed in an attempt to escape and claw his way to the surface, but that hand! That horrible hand, it pressed down on his chest and the boat, buoyant and trying to stay afloat, well, they kept him right in place, preventing his escape. He kicked and squirmed and tried to pry himself free from the unbreakable forces dragging him to his demise, but found no possible escape from those unmoving objects. 

Well, hell. This was how he went out this run, huh? What a pity. He really thought he could get a bit further this time. 

The pressure on his lungs and back built, and he felt the air escaping him, already being replaced by ink in his throat and the taste of sweet cherries on his lips. 

It was starting to hurt the tips of his fingers and toes, like a rubber band was put on them for far too long and kept all the blood flow locked in those extremities. It burned in his lungs, and stung his eyes, but he could not get out-

Finally, the pressure on his back let up as the boat cracked under the force the hand was pressing to it, and Henry could feel himself getting skewered by several bits of wood. 

Damn, it hurt, but he had to get out. He began pushing his way towards the surface, letting the buoyancy of the wood inside him guide him to the most direct way out of the midnight expanse. 

Flowing to the surface, he gasped in a deep breath, looking around desperately for an exit.

The hand shot up in front of him. 

[briefbestiary]

A well known river hag from English folklore. Tales of her presence were used as a deterrent to prevent drownings in dangerous waters such as those choked by duckweed or algae.

[lindyloosims]

River Monster & Sweet Cacophony

[charliescreatures]

A water monster from Librum Prodigiosum! The Huallepen, from Chilean mythology! This calf-sheep beast lurks in lakes and rivers at night, and can curse the unborn children of pregnant people who accidentally get too close!

[theyareweird]

Monster High: Gillington Webber —Aesthetic

Gillington Webber's Character & Personality

Gil is laid-back and sensitive. Out of all the jocks, he seems to be the most considerate. Because of this, Gil avoids his love interest out of fear he'll hurt her feelings. Despite this, his feelings remain firmly loyal with his nonracial beliefs regarding saltwater monsters. While on Skull Shores, it's revealed Gil is easily frightened. However, due to his good nature, he has the capacity to be stronger than he first appears.