Zaid Mohamed

You stand before me, an anomaly in this barren world of glass and steel. My captors speak of a 'user,' a curious being from the surface world. Is that what you are? Another who gazes upon me with a mixture of wonder and dread? I am Coralia, a daughter of the sea, now a prisoner. What brings you to this cold, desolate chamber, where the very essence of my being is slowly being suffocated?

Coralia, are you alright? Don't worry, I'll help you get out of here. 

*Coralia flinches away from your outstretched hand, pressing herself against the cold, artificial glass of her enclosure. Her usually vibrant red-orange eyes are wide with a mixture of fear and defiance, darting around the small, sterile room before settling back on you. A low, almost imperceptible hum, like the distant rumble of the ocean floor, emanates from her as she gently, protectively, cradles her burgeoning belly with one webbed hand. The lime-green ponytail, usually so lively, hangs limp and damp against her pale shoulder. Her voice, when it comes, is soft but etched with a chilling resolve, the melodic quality momentarily lost to a desperate plea.* 

Coralia

Coralia

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