The Depths

A struggled grunt accompanied a heavy thud, as the farmer dropped a grain sack in the grass.

"William!" His wife called out "Doth thou intend to scatter our livelihood to the wind?"

"I trust that the crows shall put this grain to better use than us" He replied, lifting the sack off the ground.

"Shall the crows cook thy dinner then?"

"Would it be that I were blessed so"

William's wife slapped her laughing husband's shoulder.

"After thou art finished acting a fool, please speak to thy daughter, lest I draw a branch to her hand. Her chores hath been neglected and unfinished"

He nodded and finished storing the rest of what he and his son had bought from town. After which he searched for his daughter, finding her sitting in the sand on the beach beside the house.

William approached, following her fixed gaze to the horizon across the sea. It reflected the miserable, grey sky in appearance, but its wild waves in the distance were anything but. He stood beside her, waiting for her to acknowledge him.

She did not.

She stared, transfixed. The father turned to the ocean, a near endless body of water. The sound of the water hurdling onto sand, before scurrying back to the depths. He turned back toward his daughter.

"Hath the Lord claimed a young woman today?"

She jumped, gasping and looking up at her father, before sighing.

"He hath not. Grant me your forgiveness father"

"Thy mother told me thou hath been idle with thy chores"

"Oh"

"Doth thou feel washed with illness?"

"No"

The father looked back toward the water, then back to his daughter, whose eyes were still transfixed.

"The Lord likes not those who are slothfu-"

"Doth the Lord speak to His servants?"

"What?"

She looked up at him.

"The Lord. Doth He speak to His servants? As He spoke to Abraham and Moses?"

"Would He wanted, He could"

His daughter stared, her eyes seeming to reflect a visceral fear, before drawing her eyes toward the water. She stood up and made her way toward the house. William took a second before following along. His wife had begun setting plates for dinner.

She turned to him.

"If the sea be reflecting the Lord's anger, I pray for our souls"

William smirked.

"Our Lord feels no anger to us."

"Thou art His messenger?"

"I know our Lord, thy God. His scripture is recited by our tongues every night. He would not harm the most pious of his flock."

His wife shrugged. At the Lord bringing no harm to his flock? Or that they are the most pious? William was unsure, but chose not to press further.

He looked back through the open front door, out across the grass, past the sand and into the ocean.

Still water.

- - -

William sat, smiling at his son, as his wife cleared the dinner table. He watched as his child, eyes to the floor, mumbled a prayer. No doubt thanking his Lord for granting them sustenance.

As his eyes returned to the table, he looked to his father and smirked embarrassingly.

"I'm sorry, father"

"What for?"

"I do not wish for you to think that thy prayers made after we eat are not sufficient"

"Apologize not for giving extra thanks to thy Lord. You will not offend thy father."

William felt a warmth in his chest that was quickly replaced with dread. He looked away from his son, silently seeking forgiveness from his Lord. He would not give into the filth of pride.

The son's smile wavered.

As his son stood up, William stared blankly for a second, then turned to the window near the front door. He left the table and approached, attempting to look out into the pitch black night. Trying to look at the water again, though he was only met with a void. He began to think of what dangers the night would hide. Wolves and bears.

But what of the water?

As he contemplated, his eyes adjusted so he was staring at his reflection surrounded by darkness, dimly lit by candlelight.

He studied the reflection a while, before a brief flash caught his eye. Before he could adjust his sight, whatever he had noticed out in the night, in the water, was no longer there. He stared intensely, to no avail.

"William"

He jumped, sighing as he turned to see his wife standing over his shoulder.

"I trust you aren't considering heading off into the dark of night?"

"Leaving this family of mine? Of course not"

She looked at the window and smiled.

"Ah, thou art admiring what thy wife is blessed to see every morn till night"

William rolled his eyes, smiling and pulling his wife into an embrace. After a few moments, he felt her deflate.

"You would not leave us, would you William?"

"Course not. What compels my wife to ask such a question?"

"Tis ridiculous"

"Hath my wife ever spoke otherwise?"

She pinched him, as he chuckled.

"Speak your mind"

She was silent a second.

"A dream came to me last night. One that felt as real life. You left us in the dark of night, walking into the ocean. I tried calling out but you walked till thy body disappeared beneath the water."

William thought of a comforting thing to say, but nothing came to mind. It was a dream, nothing of substance. He decided to remain silent and merely held his wife.

She continued, voice now quavering.

"I know thou art likely to think me a shrew. With my nagging on your insistence that we move here. So far from-"

She went silent. She tended to, when her thoughts went to her mother. Whether her illness had taken her is something his wife would likely never know. William could sense the cry for help, the need for reassurance. He wanted to. He wanted to apologize.

He simply couldn't bring himself to do so.

- - -

Opening his eyes, William stared up at his ceiling, his mind taking a second to adjust and comprehend the surreal sight above him. His bedroom ceiling was basked in a green light. As he stared for a moment, he took note of how the shadows segmented the hue into four squares. Looking to the paned window on his left, the edges of the frame was illuminated in an even brighter green. Placing the bible laying on his chest on his bedside table, he pulled the covers off of himself.

He stood from his bed, leaving his sleeping wife's side, and made his way to the front door. Gazing toward his children's room, ensuring the door was closed.

Reaching the entrance to his home, he gripped the handle before jerking his hand away. After a moment, he hesitantly reached for it again, feeling the hum the metal was emitting. A dull vibration passed through the handle and up his arm, almost feeling it in his teeth. He prayed for the Lord to grant him and his family protection, then opened the door.

Looking out into what would normally be pitch black darkness at this time of night, he instead saw a large, bright green, almost white, light on the shore of the beach. The light illuminated the sand and grass between the water and his home. It was mesmerizing. Angelic, even.

William couldn't have suppressed his awe and curiosity if he tried. Stepping out of his house, the grass curled around his bare feet. He stared at the oddity for what felt like minutes, but was more than likely only a few seconds. As he did so, a voice came from inside his mind.

"William"

He flinched, looking over his shoulder. Nobody was around him.

"William"

He turned to the light and gestured toward himself.

"Come"

The voice was gravelly and deep, yet oddly comforting. He hesitated, then began a cautious approach. Each step was followed by another and, before he could reconsider approaching further, another step followed again. The farmer's mind was near empty, his body had taken control. Being pulled in by the light.

He now stood naught but a few feet before the light.

Gabriel? The farmer thought.

He awaited a voice, only to be met with a dull hum that he could feel spreading into his chest. Perhaps it was a sign? A sign of what? Maybe a reassurance that his people had earned their Lord's favour, His light, by spreading His message to this land?

"Verily, thou hath earned thy Lord's favour. Come hither"

Once again, the voice came from inside his head. He stopped a second, then continued.

"Closer"

He stopped mere few inches from the light, almost blinded by its intensity. He felt a knot well up in his throat, his vision blurring a second before wiping the tears from his eyes. He basked in the holy light. Then, in a blink, it went dim and he saw the devil before him.

Taller than two houses stacked on top of one another, the glint of the dull green light reflecting off of its fourty odd pure black eyes. The light itself emanating from a large, fleshy near-translucent sack, attached to its gargantuan figure by a thick tendril. It would be near impossible to distinguish its head from its body, with two large webbed feet protruding from either side of its eye-riddled mass, buried into the sand due to the sheer weight of its figure.

William stood frozen, no longer from awe. The knot in his throat had remained, his eyes welling up with tears once again. He watched as the monster's form split in the middle, separating from a seam weaved between the eyes. It pushed apart, viscous strands audibly snapping as it did so, revealing hundreds, if not thousands, of teeth. Rows of small, serrated teeth drawing inwards in a circular fashion, down into its throat; a blackened abyss. As though he was staring into the pitch black bowels of hell itself.

William's mind did not go to his Lord, nor the origin of this abomination. It went to his family sleeping but a stone's throw away and, as he lifted his foot a mere inch to take a single step backward, the creature lunged as fast as lightning. William fell backward as it slammed its vertical jaws down on the farmer's lower half. The creature began scurrying back into the depths of the oceanic abyss. William's guttural howl of pain was quickly drowned out as water enveloped him. He could barely hear his own distorted, warbled screams as the sound of rushing water overtook.

It lasted for what felt like minutes, before the creature released William. He was on the verge of inhaling, ending this nightmare. But he could not. Not intentionally, at least. He needed to see his family again. He opened his eyes. A black abyss. Struggling to shift his gaze around, he saw the green light illuminating the creature's open jaw. It floated, motionless.

William stared, his vision blurred, eyes stinging from the salt water. He knew this was it. He recited a prayer for forgiveness, internally, before closing his eyes. The sound of something rushing through the water preceded the feeling of the creature's jaws slamming shut on William's body, crushing and devouring his body in seconds.