Work Text:
You never see it coming. You’ve been drinking steadily for days, and the only sound is the unrelenting rain. (You wouldn’t have heard him anyway.)
When he shoves you off the dock you're not quite dead. Water floods your airways, cascades into your lungs. Twenty seconds to your death. Then the crabs come, and the smaller fishes, nibbling your flesh like tiny kisses.
You caught a glimpse of him before he pulled the rope taut. You were almost proud of him for once. You'd entertained many fantasies about killing your own father, until you gave up and turned into him.