Submission (#6661) Approved

Casimiro woke with a gasp aboard a creaking vessel that took him several panicked inhales to realize it was the small rowboat that they had taken to sail into the barrier.  Instead of the fishing vessels they had taken here bobbing in the distance however, there was only a thick fog.  The air was heavy with a weight and scent unlike he had experienced before—there was salt, yes, of the sea, but also something rotten, fouled, of plant matter or vegetation, and distinctively not of the sea.  More alarmingly, the paddles of the rowboat were missing.  Eyes wide, breath coming in quick gasps, his paws searched the wooden floor and sides for anything that could help him steer the boat, but found nothing except an oddly damp, almost sticky sensation to the wood, and the rocking sensation of the waves.

A sharp wavering note unlike anything he had ever seen made his ears park and his panicked breathing catch in his throat.  The tune, or melody, or call seemed to emanate from nowhere and everywhere all at once and sent the fur rising along his spine.  Casimiro sucked in a breath, straining to discern the source, and only thinking of those old wives’ tales of mermaids or sirens luring sailors to their deaths.  The sound was a dirge, tinted with a mournful sort of despair that could not be brought forth by any creature he knew of.

As he strained to see through the mist, through the waves, through the sky itself hoping the stars could provide any guidance, despite knowing that this low in the water he would be lucky to even catch the barest glimpse of the moon, his boat rocked suddenly, nearly throwing him off the edge as something brushed by too close for comfort.  He gazed down, only to meet with a monstrous shape, a shadow rising from the depths of the water, a creature coalescing into horrid shape as it drew closer once more.  The cry came again, impossibly deep, impossibly loud as the creature approached, eyes glowing like beacons as it lifted an enormous head built upon a slim snake-like neck from the waves.  Unblinking, its eyes fixed on Casimiro with an intensity that spoke of rage, of hunger, of something that the young kittom could never understand.

But the creature did not remain still, instead it drew ever closer, moving unnaturally, gliding, and breaking through the waves as if they were blank air and not the mighty force of wind and the interminable weight of the sea.  Its maw opened slowly as it drew closer—some appendage, a tail or tentacle cutting off any hope of escape.  The air was suddenly so very cold that Casimiro’s panicked breath misted before his eyes, and still the creature came.

As the boat teetered, as the creature drew closure, as Casimiro’s heart pounded in his ears and his chest screamed for breath, the kittom frantically scrabbled against the edges of the boat.  There was no room for forethought or sense, only the maddened fright of prey staring into the eyes of a predator.  He heaved himself over the edge of the boat and threw himself at the mercy of the waves.  Sunk past the creature’s curling tail.  Above him he heard the unmistakable sound of wood splintering between the jaws of the creature, a froth of water as it shook its hapless prey.

As Casimiro sunk below the waves, past the impossible coils of the monster’s shadowy body, the haunting melody of the creature reached a cacophonous fever pitch that felt to be deafening him even as he sunk lower into the ocean’s depths.  As he fell, he saw fish with the faces of his friends moaning grotesquely from their bellies as if swallowed whole, bodies of all kind of creatures floating by as if suspended from the air, ships wrecked in impossible ways—torn in half, masts torn asunder, even one with what seemed like the carcass of a great beast wrapped around its middle.  Each new face seemed to increase the tenor and volume of the cries until, even as his lungs squeezed for breath that could not be had, Casimiro pressed his paws over his ears to quell the sound.

And then, it came, because it must come for him.  The monster sunk, following his trail, eyes wide and glowing like beams in the darkness of the water.  It thrusts its mighty coils, swimming after its escaped prey, jaws cracking impossibly wide as it swam closer and closer.  Casimiro reeled, kicking weakly as the creature drove closer and closer.  Casimiro finally gasped for breath, and felt the ocean come into his throat, his lungs.  Felt his body grow colder and colder as the sea enveloped him, as the monster drew closer.

And with a jolt that sent him reeling, Casimiro sputtered awake on the deck of a familiar ship, water leaking from the corners of his mouth, heart racing.  Above him, another familiar sight—an elnin’s orange and blue eyes, a trail of smoke flowing from the left.  A smirk touched those lips, but Casimiro was still swaying from the dregs of the nightmare to manage much more than an incoherent sputter.

He collapsed back onto the damp wood, chest heaving with each ragged breath.  Overhead, hung the moon and the guiding stars, glowing brighter as if in challenge of all the sailors had seen.  As reality settled around him, the reality of what he had seen and heard crept back to his attention and racked him with fear once more.

“Don’t worry,” Kawa said, eyes narrowing, “you’re safe now.