Sunken Bones

The coastal town of Ayrloft often had a constant salty mist rolling through the cobbled streets from the Casbalt Ocean. The ankle-biting cloud cover always appeared at the worst times, and tonight was no exception. After verifying his trusty vessel, a seasoned dock worker slung his pack over his shoulder and made his way down the rickety old plankway to the town. Every other crew member had turned in for the night, and the soft glow of the streetlights was his only company on his journey home: that and the mist. The sensation always brought a slight smile to his face, the tickle the moisture brought against his hardened skin, and the playful dance the particles did in the light. The little things like that kept him sane.

A sharp right took him down a familiar alleyway, a shortcut to his house. The echo of his footsteps made a familiar musical as they bounded down the corridor. His pack was heavy tonight, and his shift's long hours were starting to get to his weary bones. Stopping to heave his pack back to its regular position, a move he almost always did halfway through the corridor, something caught his sleepy attention. His footsteps had stopped their song, but another chorus was in the alleyway tonight. Not just footsteps either; he heard a voice whisper a wicked wisp across the wind.

“Hunter…” the voice cooed to him. Hunter swung his head left and right, dropping his pack at some point to survey the immediate area. He saw nothing, and after calming his raised heart rate down from panic, he slowly picked up his pack and began down the alley once more. His path would bring him to the end of the alleyway, where Hunter would take a left, marching down a street that overlooked the ocean before delving into the densely populated part of Ayrloft. He turned to make his left at the junction when something compelled him to stop and pull his gaze to the right.

“Funny, them street lights usually on,” he muttered. The mist wasn’t helping either, and the visibility down the opposite path was next to none. His ears strained at the faint noise emerging from that way, and Hunter squinted to see further.

“Hunter…you forgot me…” the voice spat at him, louder than before. The beating of his heart in his chest rattled his ribcage as every instinct told him to run. Hunter’s legs were frozen, and a new sound was now berating his eardrums. First, it was the crashing of waves and muffled screams, and there was something familiar about those sounds. Then, a cacophony of scraping and moaning noises erupted from the alleyway, assaulting his senses, but still, he could see nothing.

His legs moved at that point, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as his instincts took over. The pack desperately tried to remain comfortable on his shoulder to no avail. Down the scenic overlook path, he ran, not stopping once to look at the ocean that he usually admired. The crashing of the waves against the stone hid hidden whispers that were louder the more he ran. Hunter turned over his shoulder to the darkened alleyway where he heard the scraping noises, failing to see the jutting cobblestone mere feet from his current stride.

His toes crunched against the mislaid stone, and down he tumbled, the pack slamming down on his back and spilling the seafaring contents in front of him. A ringing in his ears accompanied the double vision as he stirred, multiple warm streaks running down his face. He shook himself into full consciousness and sat upright, the mist now thicker than before. Hunter touched his forehead and brought his fingers back down, drenched in red. 

“Ugh, you’ve got to be kiddin me, running from the dark ya big idiot,” he groaned as he uprighted. The bag's contents weren’t of much concern except for one item, the star catch of the day. They hadn't caught a massive species of fish in many weeks, and it would sell for plenty. Hunter’s eyes strained against the no longer playful blanket of stinging mist. He looked for five minutes or so with no success.

“Are you serious? I lost it? How can a dead fish grow legs!?” He shouted into the night, his frustrated tone carrying a hint of pleading for someone to help. Hunter’s subtle hopes for assistance were not fulfilled. Instead, the night and his past brought him something much more sinister. Shifting his focus from the fish to his surroundings, he noticed that the only streetlight still lit was the one directly above his head; the rest of Ayrloft was abyssal black with a shimmer of salty mist.

“Hunter…” the voice called again, now almost indistinguishable between the scraping and actual words. Hunter’s eyes darted all around him, looking at the familiar landscape he walked every night warped into a nightmare.

“Show yourself!” Hunter screamed at the voice, frightened beyond anything he had ever felt.

“5 years, 8 months, and 4 days, Hunter, do you remember?” the voice called back to him, ignoring his request.

“Why in the hell would I remember that? Do I know you?” Hunter yelled back, his fright now mixed with anger and confusion.

“Of course, you don’t; you only care about your damn fish,” the voice replied with malice dripping on every word. The scraping was growing louder, and the dance of the sounds seemed to be purposefully throwing Hunter’s senses off of their creator.

“I’m a fisherman. Of course, I care about my fish, you idiot. If you just show yourself, then we can work out whatever hate ya got for me, but this ain’t the way to do it,” Hunter said, hoping to reason with his unseen company. Once again, to no avail.

“Oh and such a good fisherman you were Hunter. So good in fact that it didn’t allow you to be anything else. Especially not a Captain. That date, was our last voyage together. We finally landed a Scalefin, and I was about to reel it in. It took a dive and I lunged forward and lost my balance. I dropped the rod…” the voice regaled, more angry with every passing word.

“Holy shit, Jake? I thought you were dead? I tried to save you!” Hunter yelled back into the blackness.

“Save me?” Jake laughed. “You grabbed my arm and the rod and well “Captain” Hunter, you quickly realized the Scalefin weighed a lot more than me. So who did you drop Captain?” the voice hissed.

“You know that I had to make a decision, I thought you were gonna be able to handle yourself. We had been on worse sea states and had tangled with Scalefins before. Am I wrong to have faith in my crew Jake?” Hunter replied trying to calm his former crewmate down.

“You chose a fish! Over me!” the voice screamed, and the height of the yell the last streetlight flickered out. Surrounded in complete emptiness with the thick mist choking Hunter’s breath, his gasps came quick and panicked. The voice came out once again.

“This is what I saw as I plunged into the black water of the Casbalt, the cold gnawing my flesh and the waves battering my bones. I was in disbelief that my Captain had let me go over the side and meet my end. Take your current experience as my mercy, for you only experience the blackness, not the ocean's cold grasp,” the voice finished. Hunter couldn’t form words. His mind was too preoccupied with survival. He turned to run and suddenly felt a slicing pain across the back of his heel and calf. Hunter screamed and toppled to the ground before calling out.

“Please, Jake! I let the fish go after I saw you go over! I tried to save ya!” Hunter screamed. The voice replied cooly.

“And a mighty fine job you did with that, Hunter. What you experience now is the second feeling. Helpless as you see the abyss crushing down on you, too injured to do anything about it. I drowned that night. Unfortunately for me, the small bit of mist won’t do the job.” Hunter winced as he grabbed his bleeding leg. The voice continued to speak evilly. “Unfortunately for you, the Casbalt is near and welcomes you with the same open arms…IT DID ME!”

A wrinkled, wretched, writing arm lept over the side of the small wall that kept the road and the steep bank that led to the ocean separate. Its nasty claws dug into Hunter’s flesh and locked into bone.

“HELP! HELP!” Hunter screamed out into the quiet streets of Ayrloft. The arm tugged with unholy strength, and Hunter’s body slumped over the wall. The cloud cover parted for a slight moment, allowing Hunter to look down and glimpse the face of what was at one time his old crew mate. The creature screeched with its terrible maw and with blinding speed, dragged him almost into the ocean.

Hunter’s fingers dug into the sand, trying desperately to fight against the monster that would seal his fate. Feeling the icy cold touch of the water, he knew his struggle was futile. Hunter turned to the impossibly black abomination and stopped his battle.

“I’m sorry, Jake.”

The husk screamed one final time and dragged the Captain deep beneath the Casbalt surface.