All seemed calm as we followed the guide line down to the wreck. Bubbles drifted around my head and toward the surface. A school of fish rushed by. A turtle glided above us.
We touched the cargo ship. In the ocean since World War II, the beauty had been reclaimed by coral and rust. I had never seen anything so incredible up close before.
Throwing caution to the wind, I released the guide line to explore the wreck. My diving team shouted in my ear. I didn’t listen.
I made my way to the bow. Something glittered in the range of my flashlight: gold. I followed the flashing to a watch on a skeletal arm. Startled, I hesitated to approach it.
I reminded myself that this was a wreck, that it was normal to find bodies, and forced myself to swim forward.
“You have five minutes of oxygen left!” I heard someone exclaim in my ear. “Get back on the line and come back up now!”
I approached the skeleton as quickly as I could. Just one close look, then I would go back.
I reached forward to touch the watch when a chill ran up my spine. Everything was still—too still. I looked around. Where were the fish? The other sea creatures? I’d kill to see a shark at that moment, even. For a part of the ocean that had been so full of life minutes ago, it was now so empty.
And yet I knew that something was watching me.
“Do you hear me?” came over my ear piece. “Answer me.”
“I don’t think I’m alone—“
The last thing I saw before I started gasping for air was the vague shape of a gigantic reptilian swimming toward me.
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Stephanie Hoogstad
With a BA in English and MSc in Creative Writing, writing is my life. I have edited and ghost written for years with some published stories and poems of my own.
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Trigger Warning: Suicidal Ideation Mel parked her motorcycle in front of the community pool at midnight. It being the dead of winter, the pool had closed weeks ago and been drained for cleaning. Mel didn’t care, though. She pulled a six-pack and a pair of bolt cutters out of her sidecar and walked up to the gate. The community center had only used a cheap chain—no bigger than eleven millimeters in diameter—and a bike lock to secure it. The bolt cutters made quick work of the chain, and Mel tossed the tool back in her sidecar before taking her beer through the open gate.
By Stephanie Hoogstad3 years ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Now I'm curious about the reptile's shape. Cause crocodilians, turtles, lizards, and snakes all have very unique shapes. I don't suspect this to look anything like Godzilla, but I do suppose that something like a large sea snake would mainly be within the realm of choice, though something like the cryptid of Monterey Bay sounds right up the alley for this, either that or something like the monster from WW1 U-28. Still, besides that oxygen is oxygen, and if I'm running I'm hauling myself up to the surface.