Koi is Short – A Story

Hurried breathing accompanies muffled footfalls slapping against wet cobblestone as Koi charges through a door marked with a golden harp. The trilling of bells hanging from the doorknob slam against it, piercing the quiet, still air. Koi, his face a mask of terror, stares in disbelief at his hands and torso. Orange, white, and gold scaley flecks slowly grow from his skin-like hair, but not. He was naked. He becomes less so as more scales appear all over his body. He is now covered in orange, white, and gold scales from shoulders to knees, much like a tight form-fitting cocktail dress. From his backside appears to be part of a fishtail. Below his knees are two normal hairy human calves and feet. At the ends of his scaled arms are scale-covered thumbs and two fingers. KOI winces at the sound of the bells from the door, raising his hands to where his ears once were, now finding only small earlike holes. He stumbles on uncoordinated calves and feet and places a hand on the white and black surface next to him. Discordant notes erupt from the piano.

Making a gasping sound, Koi is now unable to breathe and quickly tries to stand and back away from a strange voice that echoes painfully in his ears, “I’ll be with you in a minute!” He stumbles into a rack of bass and six-string guitars that clatter to the ground in a cacophony of angry strings.

An unnatural wheeze comes from his throat as he reaches up to touch it, his hands no longer containing any fingers, now appear more mitten-like, his calves no longer there, a fishtail now in place of where his legs and feet used to be. He loses his balance and falls into a drumset and onto the floor.

From a distance, the voice echoes again, this time on deaf unhearing ears, “I told you I’d be there in just a moment!”

Koi, now a large, white, gold, and orange fish, flopping on the floor, his newly formed tail hits the high hat, his body the bass pedal, rhythmically, gradually slowing. The flopping ceases. A final guttural sound leaks from Koi’s mouth.

From the shadows of a stairwell, the owner of the voice steps out towards the commotion. Seeing a large, silent, and unmoving Koi entangled in the drum kit, she lets out a frustrated sigh and mutters to themselves, “Not again. I told the hags to leave the poor tourists alone.”