It is a Tuesday morning in Manhattan and Morgan is
just waking up. After getting dressed, she runs down the stairs and into the
small, well-lit kitchen. Her mother is already awake, making Morgan’s lunch. Morgan,
noticeably excited to go to school, says “Good morning, mom! Did you make a
sandwich for Poncho, too?”
“Poncho?” Morgan’s mother asked, raising one eyebrow
slightly.
“Mom! You know who Poncho is. I told you about him
last week. Remember the fish I found in the green, smelly pond on the way to
school?” Morgan replies, troubled that her mother would not remember something
so important.
Poncho is a small fish that lives in a filthy,
contaminated pond near an abandoned chemical plant. Morgan passes by the green,
vinegar-smelling pond on the way to school each day and feeds him a peanut-butter-and-jelly
sandwich.
Confused, Morgan’s mother asks, “Why do you need a
sandwich for a fish?”
Morgan answers, “Poncho controls the weather. He
says that if I don’t give him a sandwich every day, bad things will happen.”
“Honey, you know fish can’t talk. And nobody can
control the weather,” says her mother.
Morgan defiantly says, “But Poncho can, Mom! I
swear!”
Morgan’s mother, not in the mood to argue about
imaginary friends, says “Fine, honey. Take this tuna sandwich for Pontoon.”
Morgan gasps and makes a face as if someone is
stabbing her in the spleen. “His name is
Poncho and I can’t feed him tuna! Do you know what tuna is?”
It took all the effort Morgan’s mother could muster
to keep from laughing at her cute mispronunciation of such a bizarre word for a
girl her age to know. She says, “Honey, settle down. It’ll be fine. Besides,
that’s all we have right now.”
Morgan, after much argument with her mother,
begrudgingly takes the sandwich and puts it in her lunch bag. She puts her backpack
on, says goodbye to her mom, and skips along to school. On the way to school,
Morgan stops by a green pond that is bubbling and smells like vinegar. She
takes out the tuna sandwich and yells “Poncho, come here,” and immediately a
small purple-and-orange fish swims to the surface. Morgan throws the sandwich
in the pond and watches it fizz while the fish nibbles at it. Then, all of a
sudden, the area around the fish goes up in flames and a cloud of black smoke
comes out of its skin, turning it jet black. In a deep, demonic voice that
reverberates as if many people are speaking at once, the fish yells, “What is this? How dare you give me fish!”
Right then, bubbles appear all over the fish’s skin.
As they pop, tiny white fish with razor-sharp teeth fall out into the water and
begin to flop into the nearest sewer drains. While all of this is happening,
the sky turns green and fiery tornadoes burst from the ground. The clouds
completely block out the sun over Manhattan Island, lit only by the constant
lightning bolts and meteorite impacts. All over the city, the tiny white fish
are speeding through the sewage system, jumping out of faucets, toilets, and
drains and attacking anything they see. Morgan runs home and sees her house,
amazingly, still standing, while all of the other houses in the neighborhood
are smoldering piles of debris.
Morgan runs into her house, hysterical with fear,
and yells, “Mom! Where are you?” The last place she looks is the bathroom. When
she looks in, she finds her mother lying on the floor in a puddle of blood and
surrounded by the tiny white fish that she saw come out of Poncho’s skin. The
fish are bloated with the blood that they just ate, and are arranged in such a
way that spells out the words “Don’t
forget.”
One week later, after the odd weather has ended,
news and rescue crews come to Manhattan to witness the aftermath. What they
find shocks them: Almost every structure in sight is a charred pile of debris,
and what they find inside the remaining homes is the worst shock of all.
Wherever they find sinks, drinking fountains, showers, bathtubs, or toilets,
there are bodies lying in pools of blood. Further analysis shows that all of
their organs are missing, and the flesh remaining has bite marks all over it. When
they look through the sewage system, they find dozens of tiny white fish with
razor sharp teeth. Finally, they come to the section of the island that Morgan
lives in, where they find a small structure made from charred brick fragments
and meteorites. Inside, they find Morgan, trembling, emaciated, and covered in
her mother’s blood. The rescue team decides to evacuate the island of Manhattan
and, since Morgan is the only survivor, take her away. Six months after the
event, Morgan still screams in hysteria whenever she sees fishes or hears the
word “Poncho.”
