Shark Suit Blanket Novels & Stories

Even though her words were dishonest, her hands and eyes lingered longingly on the blanket. “Oden’s father, tell the children.” She turned to ask John to talk the kids out of their plan… this was too pricey for their humble existence. John had a silly grin. He now understood what they meant before. Oden’s lips curled up as he saw through the farce. The blanket had his mom’s and dad’s name embroidered on it. “This is so soft…” Anne-Marie touched it fondly “So warm…” Joan and Emma edged closer to touch… their eyes widened… even their mistress didn’t have one of these.

She trembled slightly, curling tighter beneath the heavy blanket that now covered her. The blanket was like a shield of feathers, heavy but protective, draped over her to guard her from the remnants of the darkness that still lingered in the far corners of her mind. As it settled around her, cocooning her in its embrace, Elara felt a sense of safety return. It wasn’t the same as the warmth she had felt before, but it was enough to make her body relax once more.

The screen was full of their faces. "Is that what Cayden will wear?" "Oh, I think Uncle Cayden would look really cool at the photo shoot." Emily laughed at the expressions of the mother and daughter. "I do think so. Do you guys like the design?" Sky and Summer nodded. "It looks cool. I think the material you used is comfortable," Sky said. "And soft! I think it would be good as a blanket!" Summer exclaimed. Sky spontaneously nudged her daughter's arm. "Summer, that's a shirt. Why do you want to use it as a blanket?"

"What is this?" "Your uniform for the 'Moonlight Room' tonight," Min-ho said. "Get moving. We open in twenty minutes." I retreated to the small, mirrored dressing room, my hands shaking as I shook out the fabric. My face went pale as I opened the fabric. It wasn't a suit. It wasn't even a shirt. It was a black, high-cut spandex bunny swimsuit. It featured a plunging neckline that dipped to the navel, a back that was almost entirely non-existent, and a pair of satin rabbit ears attached to a headband. There was even a fluffy white tail pinned to the rear.

Her hair whipped about and she gave up any thoughts of having good date hair. Parker retrieved the shovel and blanket from the backseat and then popped the trunk. “Can you carry the blanket? I’ll get the rest of our supplies.” A large duffle bag sat in the trunk, zipped shut so she couldn’t see what it held inside. “Why do we need supplies?” And what sort of supplies? They walked to the cement barricade coated in a cracked layer of tar. He helped her step onto the path cutting through the dunes. “We’re building a sand castle.”

I tried to shake off my curiosity, focusing on the relaxing sensation of hot water cascading over my body. After a luxurious bath, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and reached for my bathrobe. But instead of finding the familiar softness of my robe, my hand brushed against something foreign. I curiously pulled the item off the hook and was met with a brightly colored racing outfit. It was a one-piece suit, with a helmet and gloves to match.

Even knowing sharks lurk in the blue water below, the image is preferable to the ruin left behind by the catastrophic war. I pull my gaze from the ocean, unbuckle my seatbelt, and head to the lavatory to check my appearance. I've grown accustomed to military fatigues provided to government workers. The dark blue suit jacket, skirt, and clunky heels I'm wearing are incredibly uncomfortable. I tug on the short skirt as I walk and almost trip. They put me in this getup to garner male attention. I'm not happy about it. I'm nothing but a piece of meat to the U.S. Federation. Believe me, meeting a group of monsters who grow six-inch fangs is not a time to feel like food.

Three sleds disabled. Two functional. Then the two functional ones surfaced. They came up at the basin's edge on the western side, the entry points of the aquatic suits breaking the surface with minimal splash. The suits were sleek and dark, built for exactly the environment they'd been in — full coverage, sealed, with the helmet-mounted systems that gave them the Archive's standard situational awareness package. Each of them was carrying a standard Archive sedative rifle in one hand. And in the other hand, a canister that Silas identified from the deployment documentation before either of them activated it.

I said. My voice was calm. Dangerous in its stillness. “You let me rot.” I reached into the bag I’d brought with me. Unfolded the thing I swore I’d never touch again. A blanket. Tiny. Blue. Soft, except for the stain in the center, deep and brown now, where red once soaked through. Ivan’s eyes followed my hands like a trapped animal. I said nothing. I laid it across his bare thighs like it was royalty. Or a curse.