The Ones From The Deep

The water was like moving glass today. It was so clear, so pure, and I moved through it as easily as the rays of light that spun down from the sun and dug deep into the blue depths. I let the bubbles trail out from behind my lips and sunk slowly deeper. This. This is what heaven must feel like. To be alone, but to also be part of something so much bigger than yourself. I could feel the heartbeat of the planet pulsing through the waves, embracing me in warmth and wholeness and autonomy.

Sleeping through the drafts of the sea breeze made time stand still, holding open its arms on either side like a great welcoming god. I drifted into its chest, huddling there for comfort as the world passed me by. No responsibilities, no worries, no impending decisions.

But the water changed as I dove closer to the depthless chasms. It was colder, sharper, a slick thrust of unnatural movement far below. I close my eyes to try to get back to that place, the one where I didn’t have to care about anything, but some thrill of fear descended down my spine like the light touch of a lover’s finger. My eyelids swing open and for a minute I see nothing to incite alarm.

I squint into the gloom and kick towards the crack in the earth, trying to close off the fear that follows me. I start to see something flicker, something white that stretches out like grasping fingers. It’s joined by two other pinpricks of white and then two more. They look like stars, but as they come closer, get bigger, I can see wisps of dark twine attached to them. I strain to make them out.

They move a couple more feet closer, than another, and I have to fight the urge to swim back up to the surface. I have to see what they are. The first one is almost upon me and I see the roundness of a skull, the trail of a squid like form behind it, and my panic starts to takeover. I strike out, palm first, but my hand connects with only the surrounding water.

I struggle back, but the thing moves faster and finally rears its face. Huge milky eyes stare at me from out of hallowed cheeks and tight skin. Its small jaw moves up and down almost touching its chin. The inside of its mouth is as vast and dark as the abyss below. Sound rockets out, surrounding my head, making me cry out in shock and clutch at my ears.

We are here now. The wild has answered your prayers.

All my air is lost in fat, frantic bubbles that climb high above our heads. My vision sways and dips and I desperately try to claw up, but thick tentacles bind my legs and arms. The last thing I see is that jaw unhinging and darkness swallowing me whole.