Deep Sea Madness

Captain Davis spent weeks preparing for his mission. He was certain that he was ready. He saw the submarine for the first time the day he was to begin. “This is the MS-Pebble,” His superior informed him.

It had to be as small as possible. Captain Davis knew his objective was to dive into enemy waters and spy on the navy forces to report on the features of their ships and submarines. Captain Davis was to go in alone. The mission was for a week, but Captain Davis packed for two weeks just in case. He wished his friends goodbye.

“Take this with you,” His sister insisted. She gave him a small framed photo of their father, the former commander of the navy before he was lost to them by an enemy ship. His body could never be recovered, so Davis and his sister always said that he was watching over them. Every wave that broke on the shore was a sign to them that their father was looking out for them. “He’ll give you good luck on your mission,” She said.

Captain Davis gave her a nod and a long hug. “You take care of things up here,” He told her. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Davis entered the Pebble. He listened to the cheers with pride as the Pebble embarked and sank into the depths below. Captain Davis started the long trip towards enemy borders. He listened to coordinates from his superior. He hummed his favorite songs. Captain Davis had been piloting submarines for nearly eight years. He felt at home in the cramped space and the silence. While usually, he had a crew, he didn’t mind the serenity of a week all on his own. He had the radio to call in his reports and plenty of books for his downtime. He was hardly even nervous about being in enemy waters. He was so small and the little ship was made to be able to dive so deeply that he would be easily overlooked.

Captain Davis had submerged for the crowd, but as he was traveling through friendly waters he remained on the surface. Normal radio signals could reach him that way and Captain Davis enjoyed an occasional word or two with his superior. “There’s a lot of water here admiral.”

Admiral Smith chuckled. “Get used to it Davis, you’re going to be seeing it for seven days.”

Enemy waters were fast approaching. Captain Davis called in. “Preparing to dive, Admiral.” Once he submerged, he kept himself at 200 meters. He smiled at his father placed by the ELF Radio, his main tool for his mission. Making his way to a depth and location where he was nestled and hidden from enemy ships was easy enough. Captain Davis left the controls and set up his radio to listen in on the enemy’s conversations. Once he was set, he grabbed a book and a ham sandwich from his provisions and waited.

There was nothing to report for two days. Captain Davis kept himself busy with reading and sketching in his notepad. With nothing to report, he started journaling as well. ‘June 8th, nothing to report. I read most of Moby Dick today. I figured it was about time I gave it a read. I saw a whale this morning. I’m glad it didn’t get close.’ He looked to the picture of his father. “You’re my only company now, dad. You would be so proud to see me walk in your footsteps, I think.”

Captain Davis believed day three would be as boring as the rest, but then he heard of something he never heard before. “Has Destiny embarked yet?”

Captain Davis leaned in and fumbled for his pen and notebook.

“Destiny isn’t due to embark for another two months. They want her to be perfect.”

“Then what was it that embarked yesterday?”

“The test ship, a smaller version of Destiny. What was it called?” There was a pause. “SGB-381. They’re running the diving tests and such.”

Davis wrote frantically every word he could. Destiny was planning on being able to withstand a test depth of up to 500 meters and hold a total of 200 men. It was unheard of, but here they were, talking about it as though this groundbreaking achievement was just around the corner. It was, in fact, apparently only two months away. What Davis failed to hear, however, was what they planned to do with a sub that went so deep and held so many people? War subs didn’t have to go that deep, unless…

‘Ping,’ Davis sprung out of his chair. ‘Ping,’ He’s been spotted! ‘Ping,’ They’re getting close! Davis rushed to the controls and dove as fast as he could. His report claimed that the enemy submarines had a crush depth of 280 meters at best. The Pebble could go as deep as 350 meters. If Davis could just bottom out and turn off the engine in time, then the submarine pursuing him could lose him. ‘Ping,’ Davis reached 300 meters. ‘Ping,’ The enemy sub was still gaining. ‘Ping,’ Davis moved his sub to a trench nearby and went lower. ‘Ping,’ 340 Meters, Davis rested The Pebble on the ocean floor and turned off his engine. He held his breath and stood perfectly still.

‘Ping… Ping… Ping…’ The radar stopped. Davis let his breath out very slowly. He knew instantly the sort of trouble he was in. They knew he was in the trench. Even if they couldn’t go down as low, they knew he was there. The Pebble was a one-manned mini-submarine. It had no weapons, it was built to be fast and go deep. The enemy sub, whatever it was, would no doubt have some form of weaponry. It followed Davis past the assumed crush depth with no hesitation. He wondered what other assumptions he made that were wrong.

Davis cautiously started to breathe again. He had to wait out the enemy sub, but for how long? He was stuck in a trench. If they spotted him before he got out, he would have no time to escape enemy fire. Curiously, Davis looked out the small window of the sub. He couldn’t see anything. Frustrated, he snuck his way to the picture of his father. He looked down to it. ‘Looks like I really got myself in trouble this time, dad,’ He thought.

The silence was nearly unbearable. The lack of voices around him left a ringing in his ears. He wondered what his sister was doing just then. Davis sat at the control panel, eyes closed, waiting. He wondered if it was possible to send a distress signal to Admiral Smith, but that thought was quickly snuffed. If it was too dangerous to start the engine and try to get out of the trench then it was certainly too dangerous to try and call for help. Even deep signals wouldn’t be able to reach him. He was so close to crushing depth that it made him uncomfortable.

Davis’ eyes shot open. He looked behind him. Weird, for a moment he thought he heard muttering. He turned to the radio but it was as still as the sub. “Keep it together,” He whispered to himself. He was astonished of how much better he felt hearing his own voice.

Day four arrived. Davis slept soundly, but he didn’t want to move the submarine yet. It had been less than 24 hours, no doubt the enemy was still waiting for him.

Davis took the opportunity to write in his notes what happened and finish reading Moby Dick. The Sub would occasionally creak, and every time Davis would freeze and wait. He would strain to hear the sonar even though he knew it would sound bright as day. The week came at last. If there was a day to try and escape, Davis thought, this had to be the day. Captain Davis sat at the controls and started the engine. He waited a few seconds. No pings. Davis jolted the sub to life and started to follow the trench a ways before ascending his way out of the long, deep crevice.

‘Ping ping ping ping,” Davis’ grip on the wheel nearly failed him. He couldn’t believe it, four submarines around him, and they all spotted him on the radar! Quickly, he dove again, deeper, deeper. He watched the dots on his radar getting closer to the trench. He saw them surrounding him. Two more submarines appeared on the screen. As he dove for his life, the lights of The Pebble caught a large gray mass that he was quickly gaining on. “Whale,” He cried as he hurried to slow down his sub. Davis was going too fast, he froze and waited for impact.

‘Boom,’ Davis felt himself jolt violently to the left. ‘Crash,’ he was knocked violently to the right. ‘Thud,’ the sub came to a complete halt. The sub’s alarm was going off, informing the captain that there was damage. Davis crawled over to the controls and turned off the engine. The pain in his left leg, head and abdomen were indescribable. He was still. He waited to die. He waited for the water to crush him. He waited for a torpedo to hit him. While waiting, he blacked out.

“Harry.”

Captain Davis’ eyes shot open. He didn’t know what was worse, the ringing in his ears or the pounding in his head. Davis groaned and rolled over, clutching his stomach. “Ow,” He shouted when the pain in his leg shot up his entire body. ‘Ping,’ the radar went and Davis instantly froze. Was he still in the Pebble? Were they still looking for him? This was no good, maybe they were waiting for him to try and escape again.

“Harry.”

Davis’ eyes shot over to the picture of his father. The picture was laying at arm’s reach, glass shattered on the frame. “Dad?” He whispered. Davis dragged himself to the wall and propped himself into a sitting position. His head was spinning, his side was bruised, and he was sure that his leg was broken. He scanned the sub which had little to no light. All he could see was the sharp red blinking on the console and the portrait Davis had in his hands. The voice he was hearing before was undoubtedly his father’s voice. The sound of his father calling him by his first name was such a clear memory that Davis was sure he was suffering a concussion which caused him to hear it. Even so, it made his heart ache for home.

“Dad,” He muttered. “I think I’m going to die here.” Davis took stock of the situation. He had a month of water but only a week of food. He was in need of medical assistance and he was no doubt past the Pebble’s crushing point. He was either going to get sick and die, starve and die, get crushed by the ocean and die, or get torpedoed and die. His eyes watered from the pain and the hopelessness of his situation. He was scared. He was alone. The only witnesses to his existence now were the unknown and unforgiving creatures that swam 260 fathoms deep. Davis quieted his ragged breaths and cradled his stomach while resting against the wall. The pain and the dizziness were too much. He fell asleep once more.

“Harry, don’t lose hope.”

Davis opened his eyes softly, the red light blinking, a tall figure stood before him. Davis was too tired to respond.

“What is this? Are you just going to quit and let yourself die? I thought I raised you better than that.”

“Dad?” Davis whispered. “You’re dead,” He stated.

“And you’re not yet,” The shadow figure replied. “If you just sit here you’re going to be like me before long.”

Davis’ head rested against the wall. “I’m in so much pain. Maybe it’s better if I die.”

“Harry your nation and your sister need you. You can’t let go now.”

Davis was silent for a moment. He turned his head and spotted the water supply and the cooler with a sandwich waiting for him. His stomach growled.

“Focus on the goal and go for it, Harry. Keep your eyes on the goal.”

Davis dragged himself across the room to the water supply. His leg had gone numb. If he didn’t look back or feel the resistance in his dragging, he would have thought the leg was gone. Davis gripped the faucet. He grabbed a cup that fell on the floor during the crash. The moment the water reached his lips, Davis felt as though he was regaining his own life. He pulled open the cooler and grabbed a sandwich. He unwrapped the clear plastic and stuffed nearly half of the sandwich in his mouth in one bite.

Remembering his father, he turned back to the figure only to see the red blinking light, catching nothing except the shadows that were always there. “Dad?” He called out to no avail. Davis put a hand to his head. It was the concussion, that’s all it was.

He felt his chest tighten.

After he had some food, Davis looked around for cloth and support for his leg. He wrapped it up in old bandages and blankets in an attempt to keep his leg still when he moved around. Davis barely succeeded but it was better than nothing. “Okay,” He said to himself. “Time to assess the situation.” Davis first checked to see how deep he was. 480 meters. He felt a lump form in his throat. He wanted to see if the engine would run, but he couldn’t make enough noise that the radars of the other submarines could find him. Davis looked out the window.

Everything was completely dark. The vast black depths were like a brick wall in front of him. Davis wondered if he was, in fact, facing a wall until he saw in the distance some sort of light. Davis strained to look harder. At first, he thought it could be a school of bioluminescent fish, but if they were they would be strangely stationary in their swimming pattern. Davis’ eyes widened. Was it a submarine? If it was, it would be huge. Bigger than any submarine he’s ever seen. He thought again about Destiny. “How long have I been out?” He felt a chill up his spine.

He remembered that the soldiers were talking about how Destiny wasn’t due to see water for two months. Could it be one of the prototypes? No, it was too big. It was the size of a ship.

It was a ship.

How could there be a ship this deep? In fact, Davis realized that the more he looked at it, the more he could see the outline. The lights in the windows were bright, warm and comforting. The sails were tattered but otherwise, they looked pristine in shape. It occurred to him that he was seeing the ship better and better because it was moving closer and closer.

‘Ping,’ Davis’ bones chilled to stillness.

‘Ping,’ The signal was the ship.

‘Ping,’ It was getting closer.

Could the other subs pick it up out of the trench? Why was a large ship signaling the sonar, and how did it dive into such a dangerous depth? Unless…

Davis shook his head and closed his eyes. He waited until the sound of the sonar died out. With a sigh, he opened his eyes.

Revisiting the window, Davis reeled back and nearly fell over on his leg again. What was looking back at him was a round, white sphere with odd, smaller lights blinking and watching him. Captain Davis stood perfectly still, besides the trembling. He held his breath save for the short bursts that escaped from genuine trepidation. Davis was petrified, staring down the bizarre thing that kept its gaze so intensely before sinking down and away. Davis rushed to the window to see where the thing went. Below him, the sea floor shifted and turned and slithered its way down the trench.

“I have to write this down,” Davis realized.

He wrote down everything that happened from the escape attempt to the strange eye looking at him and the mysterious underwater ghost ship.

“Do you think anyone will believe you if they ever read the journal?” The captain’s father asked from behind him.

Davis spun around to see, of course, no one. “Of course. I have no doubt they would read it. I was sent here as a spy, no one is more capable than myself. Of course, the journal will be nothing if we end up getting crushed by the ocean.” Davis froze. “I meant to say if I get crushed,” He corrected.

Days more passed by. It was hard for Davis to keep track. He wasn’t able to rest as well as he hoped with a leg being broken. The pain woke him up often. However, there were some moments of complete silence where he was able to sleep despite the pain.

‘Ping,’ Davis’ eyes shot open. ‘Ping,’ He got up as fast as he could to see what the sonar was picking up. ‘Ping,’ He looked out the window and saw, once more, the ship passing through the trench. He felt a pit in his stomach drop. He tried to gather as much information as he could about the ship. He looked around for the creature. He searched for the giant glowing eyes as big as the Pebble. He scribbled the details of the ship, doodling as fast as he could. The ship faded away, and in its place, there was the brick-thick blackness. Immediately following that blackness, however, there was the orb of lights staring into the window with such desire and curiosity. “It’s just an illusion,” Davis’ shaky voice began. “Davis, there are no underwater ships. There are no large bright-eyed monsters. There is no ghost of your father.”

“Are you sure about that?” He heard a voice ask. He turned to the picture of his father that he since propped against the control console. “Yes, I’m perfectly sure. All of this isn’t real. None if it can be real.” The eye faded away like it did before and Davis was left alone with his father.

“You know you have to get out of here, son,” Davis said.

“I know dad,” Harry replied. “I’ve run out of food. I think, maybe, it’s time to assess the situation.” Harry started to limp as he paced, leaning against the desk and chairs and the control console when he could. “Every few days, the ship arrives and my radar goes off. Maybe the enemy’s radar goes off for the ship as well. The monster comes around at the same time.”

Davis pivoted and kept limping. “I thought you said you didn’t believe they existed.”

Harry pivoted and kept limping. “I did, but maybe, the other subs can see it too.”

“Do you think you can sneak out while the enemy is distracted from the ship?” Davis asked.

“It’s the only chance I have to survive. If I stay here much longer, I’ll surely go mad,” Harry concluded. “Okay. So the next time the ship arrives I’ll start the engine and go the opposite direction as fast as the sub can go.” With his plan made and his mind set, he went to lie down and see if he could manage just a few more hours of sleep.

Three days without food. These days were easy to record because Davis’ stomach refused to let him forget. In almost as many days he was unable to sleep. Davis kept his attention to the window. He waited for the ship.

“Remember, your nation and your sister are counting on you to tell them about Destiny,” Davis said.

“I know, dad,” Harry responded.

“If you make it out of here alive,” Davis told himself. “Just know that I’m very proud of you.”

Harry quickly turned his head in the other direction. “Do you mean it, dad?”

“I do,” Davis turned his head again. He nodded. “You did good, son.”

‘Ping,’ Captain Davis stood up. ‘Ping,’ He fumbled to the controls and resurrected the Pebble’s engine. ‘Ping,’ Davis ignored the loud flashing warning signs. He ignored the other subs that appeared on the radar. There were four, six, eight, nine subs total. Davis trusted the subs to be confused between his and the underwater ship’s signals. Four ships were going after him. Davis went faster, the adrenaline and liberation causing his hands to tremble. He started to laugh through his nose softly, then louder and more confident as the Pebble sped away and left the enemy subs behind.

He was free.

“Yes! Yes I did it,” He screamed and cheered. The sub’s tank was leaking. He was running low on fuel, air and speed. Captain Davis prepared to breach the ocean surface. Once the sub found its way to open air, the Pebble’s engine gave out. Davis was able to shoot two flares up into the sky. There was no power, no radio signal, and no food, but Davis was in friendly waters again. He had no doubt that help was on the way. He wrote the details of his daring escape in the journal, unaware of the large dark shadow that began to rise below him.

Once the rescue team arrived hours later, they were greeted with the sight of a floating, open submarine named the MS-Pebble. A detail of three marines and two medics searched the cramped submarine for clues. They found the flare gun that was shot two hours before. They found a bundle of blankets and bandages and they found the journal. However, the captain that embarked on the mission with the Pebble was nowhere to be found. Once his sister received the news, she was devastated. She demanded to read the journal he left behind, but Admiral Smith strongly recommended against it. She would not be satisfied, however, and Smith reluctantly let her read it.

The details of Destiny were taken into account, and with the warning a month in advance it changed the tide of the war. The rest of the entries, however, the captain’s sister was able to keep as his next of kin. She thought of burning it and along with it all the evidence of her brother being driven mad. However, one detail terrified her to the core and instead of kindling turned the journal of madness into an heirloom. The coordinates Davis wrote where he breached, the location where the last traces of him remained, was the same coordinates of the ship their father was in before his body was lost to the sea.