Terror from the Deep
Fear freezes your massive heart as a huge black shape passes underneath you, a broad flattened head followed by yard after yard of flailing tentacles. A cold amber eye glints in the dim light as it swims ahead a small distance, before you. It then opens up its tentacles into a sucking, nightmarish star, its beak clicking menacingly in the center, hungry for your flesh.
<JESUS TAPDANCING CHRIST!!!> Your whale brain screams. Your tons of muscle flex and clench as you try to turn about, but you're slightly less maneuverable than a city bus. It's like the squid knows, and the squid is hungry. Your momentum carries you right into the ravenous tentacles that latch onto your body. You cry out as you feel the beak dig into your side and begin to feast.
No man's mind is ready for this kind of nightmarish sensational overload, or the degree of horror that washes over you. You realize you're utterly alone, with nothing but the dead depths holding creatures of slime below you. Your nerves send signals your brain was not meant to interpret, your instincts rush down neurological paths your genome has never known. You can hear you sanity snapping, your consciousness snapping like matchsticks. Your body flails and swings its titanic tail about like a lethal club, completely independently of your conscious mind. Once, it connects squarely with the beast's head, but the squid is a creature of slime, boneless and slippery.
So the pain continues, the horror, the utter isolation, as you're slowly eaten by the giant squid, lacking hands or thumbs or tools, the weapons man has so perfected, with nothing but your rapidly failing mind for company. You wonder if this is the end as you pray to every god for salvation.
Written by Mr.Peaches on 21 June 2010
The end (for now)