Thunder clapped. The room danced with the waves and took Cyrus as an unwilling partner, flinging her side to side on the hammock fastened to creaking wooden beams like a wild bull trying to buck her off. Damn it all, she thought to herself, retching silently. The room around her shuddered against the wind. It was cold, she bundled herself in a blanket, her feet sticking out abandoned to the chill. A giant wave crashed into the side of the vessel, the ship lurched to the left, tossing her off the hammock. Fuck! She stumbled onto the floor waving her hands for a modicum of balance, but the sea had other plans; the floor moved beneath her, she heaved forward and grabbed onto a support beam, hearing a wet crack as it budged under her weight. Shit! she inhaled sharply, wincing at the sharp pain travelling through her bad leg, breathing slowly through the agony.
“And so, God shits in my dinner once again,” she groaned through gritted teeth, pushing herself off the beam. She urged her meal to stay in her stomach where it belonged. She’d signed up for the voyage knowing a storm was to strike in the night, still she’d never expected it to be as furious as it was. What God have we angered to incur such a fate? She sighed, and reached for her cane, its silver serpent-headed handle dented by the battering; damn it all, that was expensive, she frowned, grabbing the cane, sliding her thumb across a new indent. She limped her way to the doorframe, and leaned against it, feeling the ship undulate with the waves, at the mercy of its indifferent vastness. Her stomach turned, bile clawed its way up her throat, she swallowed, feeling its acidic burn as it travelled back down. Cyrus shook her head, steadying the vertigo. She reached for the locket around her neck and clutched it in her hands. Where’s that damned captain?
***
“Hoist up those fucking sails!” spat Captain Blake, ebony hair matted to her face. The wind tore at her coat, her hat long since overboard. Ripples of water rolled along the deck, the crew gripped slick rope, a game of tug of war with the wind; one with odds heavily stacked against them. Another incoming wave sought the vessel’s wreckage, towering over them before crashing into the side of the ship, tossing hundreds of gallons of water onto the deck, which tore across the deck snatching barrels and boxes of equipment. One such barrel hurtled towards Blake, surfing on the current, it struck in the chest, knocking her down and shoving her into the railings, she caught herself from falling off, but the barrel had struck her rib, knocking the wind out of her; she could already feel the bruise welling. Pray we make it out of this. She panted, catching her breath, and leaned on the railing, looking down into the inky water and her heart dropped, she saw them swimming, underneath the water, luminescent fins flailing underneath the waves, circling the ship. Christ alive, she snapped her head towards her navigator, “Where’s the closest port?!” she shouted, but the rain and winds dragged her voice away. Her throat complained at her for her ceaseless shouting, and she tasted metal, but she steeled herself, forcing herself to carry on. We’ve been through worse, she repeated over and over, trying to persuade herself. Fucking dammit.
Blake pushed off the railing, fighting against wind and water as she slogged closer to her navigator and grabbed them by the shoulder, “Closest port?!” she yelled.
“It’s impossible to tell, Captain!” they yelled over the rain, “The cloud cover hides the stars, and the winds have pushed us far off course! Somewhere between Innsmouth and Shelley?!” they paused, taken aback by what they just said, “No, God, no. Not Innsmouth, please not Innsmouth” their voice was shaking, the rain masking the tears that Blake knew were there, she grimaced, God almighty, protect this ship.
“It’ll be okay, Piper! We’ll make it through this!” she tried to feign confidence, but she wouldn’t have believed herself then either, “Get inside and take shelter! We’ll follow once the sails are raised” Another wave crashed into the ship, knocking Blake backwards into the wheel, she tried to catch herself.
Crunch.
FUCK! Blake screamed, her throat raw, blood making its way to her mouth. Thunder clapped, she fell to her side, clutching her hand against her chest, her finger mangled and bent, the anguish travelled down her whole arm, tense and throbbing.
“Captain!” called Piper, their voice breaking into sobs; they’d managed to catch themselves with the railing, “Captain!” they screamed again
“It’s alright!” Blake yelled through a clenched jaw, “I’ll be fine, get inside!” Piper nodded and scrambled for the door. Blake clawed her way up from the floor, the ship’s rocking back and forth actively fighting against her. Thunder cracked again, louder than before. She looked out at her crew, half-way managing to hoist the last sail. We might just make it, she thought, but she spoke too soon, another large wave came crashing in, washing over the deck. Most of the crew lost their footing, tossed across the ship into one another, their cries sounding above the din of pouring rain and furious ocean.
A scream ripped through the air behind Blake, Piper was tossed across the deck, they struck the railing with their back and flipped over the edge, “Captain!!” she cried before splashing into the water. Blake rushed to the side of the ship, searching the murky water for any sign of Piper, but the sea had already claimed them. Damn it! Damn it! DAMN IT! Thunder clapped again, howling winds tore at the sails, the sails swung around, fissures travelling up the mast.
Crack.
Faults crackled up the wooden mast. “Move! Get inside! Get inside right fucking now damn it!” Blake yelled over the railing, as more cracks appeared, “Run!!” she shouted, her voice breaking under the strain, but the elements had the crew pinned to the deck.
Snap.
The mast fell, striking the deck and cracking it as if it were an egg, crushing three crewmates under its weight, killing them before they’d so much as gotten the chance to scream. Fuck! Damn it!
Another flurry of wind pushed her off her feet, she fell to the ground, but she made no attempt to catch herself. It parted the clouds revealing the moon amidst the stars, as if God itself was shining a spotlight onto their grave.
Click.
A gurgling, raspy breath creeped up from behind Blake, the sound of a wet rag being ripped from the floor over and over.
Scrape.
The sound of claws striking wood, it came from all around the ship. Then they peered over the edge, dark-green slick skin, slit green eyes, a spined fin across the centre of its bulbous, grotesque head.
Dear god…
***
Cyrus stood at the steps to the deck. She felt her heart in her throat, her eyes couldn’t focus. There was a steady dripping noise, wooden planks overhead stained red, a pool of blood cumulating underneath it, the stench was dizzying.
The screaming had stopped a while ago, but she couldn’t get her legs to move. What in God’s name happened up there? Cyrus closed her eyes, trying to steady her breath but to no avail, she couldn’t think straight. Her palms were sweaty. Her mouth was dry. She clutched her locket, hyperventilating, her chest rising and falling rapidly. The rain had calmed, she could see beams of sunlight pierce through the cracks in the deck, but it was quiet, painfully quiet that she found herself missing the rain and thunder.
Thunk.
Cyrus jumped at the sound, tripping over herself and falling to the floor, her cane clattering away. Fuck, shit, fuck, she held her breath, waiting for the sound’s origin to descend the steps for an eternity, but no one came. She exhaled, slow and steady, making as little sound as she possibly could. Another thunk, then another, and another then one more, and it continued. Christ alive, what is that? The sound turned to dragging, she heard large masses being hauled along the deck like wet bags of garbage, accompanied by the gentle squelching of what sounded like wet rags being ripped from the floor over and over. She slowly got to her feet, using the beam behind her to steady herself, making each movement precisely. Don’t. Make. A. Sound.
Crack.
The beam behind her budged, her heart leaped, and she lunged away from the steps, moving as silently and as quickly as possible, hopping on one leg and grabbing any and every wall for support. Cyrus hopped towards the corner behind the steps, narrowly dodging shards of glass, a courtesy of the storm. She spun around the netted wall, hiding amongst the barrels and cargo. There was a broken mirror to her left, she covered her hand with her mouth, pressing tight and watched the reflection with bated breath. Her ears were ringing, she wanted to shut her eyes and pray, but some part of her was forcing her was keeping them open.
Thud.
A wet footstep, and then another. It got louder, and louder until a figure eclipsed the sunbeam, slowing making its way down the stairs. A raspy breath echoed through the hull, an unearthly noise resonated from the stairs, Cyrus swore it sounded like laughter. What is it? Is it toying with me? Does it know I’m here? God help me.
The footsteps drew closer and closer, it stopped at where she had been mere moments ago. She saw it in the mirror now, it had slick globular flesh, its fins squelched against the wood, leaving wet imprints of its feet where it moved. Its webbed hands were tipped with long claws, and it had a row of sharp teeth. Its back was hunched as if its spine curved into itself. My God, a deep one, Cyrus gasped softly. The deep one moved perversely, as if it were mocking the way humans walked. Its neck swayed sideways as it looked around, like a snake being charmed. It dropped to all fours, a spurt of slick from its body fell onto the floor, it craned forward and leaned down, rubbing its gills across Cyrus’ cane, she grimaced. It moved along the floor, its claws clicking against the wood. Its rasped, gurgled breathing getting closer and closer, before it suddenly stopped, raising to its hind legs, resting its claws on the wall beside it with a gentle scratch.
Cyrus held her breath, adrenaline pumped through every vein in her body. Every cell, every molecule told her to run but her mind said there was no point. She watched the deep one breathe, its chest gently rising and falling with its gills, its eyes were glazed over, as if it was blind. It moved nearer; can it smell me? Can it hear me? Can it sense me? Fuck, fuck, God, fuck.
It drew even closer, until it stood right beside Cyrus. It was large, far larger than it looked from afar. It hulked over her, her heart beat faster, at that point she hadn’t thought it was possible. Tears filled her eyes, she fought them back, blinking the wet away and trying to steel herself, seeing the creature through a blurred lens.
Its claws rested on the barrel she cowered behind, leaving scratch marks on its surface, it leaned down, its head craning towards her. It smelled like rotten seaweed and iron, its slick dripping down directly in front of Cyrus, she clenched her hands around her mouth harder, gently pushing herself away with her feet, every tendon in her bad leg screamed at her. She moved farther back, as far as she could until her back pressed against the wall with a soft thump.
The deep one snapped to face her, she gasped, trying to push away but there was nowhere left to go, it placed its claws by her leg, and further still she tried to move. It crawled closer. She kicked harder, her lame leg striking a barrel, sharp pain ripped through her limb, Cyrus bit her tongue, trying her hardest not to scream. Fuck! Stop! Please, please, stop. The deep one crawled even closer, inches from her face. The smell of rancid seaweed and salt filled her nose, she fought back the urge to gag, clutching her foot, cradling the aching appendage.
The deep one made a guttural noise, like earlier it felt as if it was laughing at her. It reached forward, its claws gently grazing her leg. It watched her closely, craning its neck till its head was just beside hers, its eyes gazed into nothingness, yet it faced her. Its gills flared with a sound of raw meat being gently pulled apart, Cyrus watched the wet flesh gently open and close, a voyeuristic fascination.
Its claws scraped against her leg, creating shallow cuts on her flesh, it stung sharply, she winced, clenching her fists and her jaw. Its playing with me.She felt lightheaded, the odour penetrated her skull, clouding her mind. Its breath gurgled again, like a drowning man’s final words. She wanted to cry; she didn’t want to die yet. She moved her hand; it was shaking, and it took all she had to keep it steady. She reached up to her locket, gently fingering the cool metal. She opened it delicately in her hand, a picture of her wife sat inside, her smile gently bathing Cyrus in a warmth, immediately sapped away by the deep one breathing on top of her. She raised it to her mouth and kissed it gently, and she broke, tears welling in her eyes and flowing down her face. I love you, she sobbed.
The deep one dug its claws deeper into her flesh, she screamed now, feeling a rage to fight back. She kicked at the deep one with her bad leg, her foot struck the creature with a wet clunk, feeling its ribs against her bare feet. It fell backwards, leaping back to its legs. It opened its spiked maw, and belted a croaky roar, shaking the cellar, jangling the empty bottles that had somehow not shattered in the night. It lunged forward, forcing its claws deeper into her leg, Cyrus bellowed in agony, grabbing the net behind her, and trying to kick at it again, but the deep one snapped at her leg, grabbing it between its teeth, tearing the flesh open and slathering it in its saliva. It gnawed at it, Cyrus screamed until her voice broke, the deep one tore the limb off, tossing it across the room. Cyrus bit her tongue and almost went straight through, she tasted blood in her mouth, pulling near the edges, drooling out of her mouth onto her clothes.
She sobbed silently, weakly clawing at the wood, a desperate attempt to crawl away from the creature. It pulled harder, its spindly claws going through her leg and coming out the other end. Cyrus pulled her remaining leg, the anguish flowed through her body, her head rocked back and forth, she grabbed onto one of the barrels as the creature tugged again, hooking its talons on her bone, the pain was indescribable. Her eyes rolled back into her head, she tried to scream but no sound came out. The deep one started dragging her away, the wooden deck chafing her limp arms. She was hauled quickly, sliding over shards of broken glass which cut her open, and jammed themselves into her body. The deep one shrieked, yanking at her harder, dragging her up the steps, her head slammed against them, she felt warmth drip down her face.
The sun blinded her when she was taken the deck, her body writhed involuntarily as the cold air washed over her wounds, the salty air caressed her exposed flesh, like scalding water that burned cold. Her eyes drifted; she felt herself lose grasp of consciousness, the pain began to fade, she glazed over the heavens, at the pitch-black sky scattered with stars.
What?
Her eyes weakly moved to what she had thought was the sun, and she saw it. Her pupils stretched, filling her iris. A being, indescribable. It was a small point, but its presence was boundless. Its form heaved to-and-fro like a heat wave, it had wings the size of sails, teeth the size of towers. It had thousands upon thousands of eyes inside its horrible, bestial mouth. It was tipped with appendages glazed in thick black hair, its lardy figure oozed into the inky sky, and spilled into the stars. It filled her eyes, everywhere she looked it was there. Its eyes were unnameable colours. Its skin was smoother than cut marble. It danced like the Northern lights. It was beautiful. Its body was like a mountain, vast as the ocean. It was hideous. It stood immovable. Cyrus smiled, her heart felt cold, her soul drained, her eyes glued to, God? Her hand reached to her locket, and she clutched it in her hand. She was at peace, she was okay.
Saye Kamal 
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