Chapter Text
“I can’t do it. I don’t want to die.”
Wimp.
“It would have been easier if you had just said yes.”
Weakling.
“You’re murdering me! I don't want to die! Don’t send me off to die! Please!”
Dastard.
“All those kids you’ll be saving, think of them.”
Coward.
Ryland’s head throbbed excruciatingly, his muscles aching as he moved to sit up. “Uhg…” He groaned, “that dream again?” Cold saltwater slid sluggishly through his gills, tasting metallic from the depth.
“♪♫ Grace ok, Question? ♫♪” Came a clacking noise from beside Ryland. He turned to find his best friend Rocky, the Atlantic rock crab.
“Yeah bud, I’m fine.” He yawned, stretching his cramped tail muscles to wake them up. “We should probably continue to Erid.” Rocky chirped happily at the mention of his home colony, scuttling around happily in his bubble. Ryland was still absolutely amazed at how smart his little crab friend was, not to mention his ability to create a super strong bubble membrane substance that allows him to explore the deep sea with Ryland.
They collected their meager supplies, dwindling more with each passing day, and swam out of the small alcove where they had spent the night. As they emerged, the great deep blue greeted them. The water beyond their alcove pressed against Ryland’s skin like wet stone, heavy enough to make his bones ache. It was almost pitch black, with little promise of life, their only light being a makeshift lamp made from an Atolla jellyfish. Its dull bioluminescent glow pulsed weakly through the dark, staining Rocky’s shell an eerie blue whenever he scuttled too close.
Small deepsea creatures would pass them from time to time, but the waters were painstakingly stale and void of sound. Even their movements seemed swallowed whole, every kick of Ryland’s tail disappearing into the endless dark without an echo. Ryland and Rocky tread carefully through the darkness, never knowing what monsters could have made their home within the quiet waters.
A pale siphonophore drifted above them like a torn veil, reminding them of the ghostly creatures lurking in every crevice. Something massive shifted somewhere below them, disturbing the water with a current Ryland felt more than saw. Rocky shifted closer to Ryland, a small reassurance of protection for both.
The water thickened around them like molasses, every push forward slower than the one before.
“Gosh Rock, the pressure down here is no joke.” Even after days in the deep, the pressure still made his ears pop painfully when he spoke; the words coming out strained and breathless. Ryland panted, his lungs constricting upon every intake.
“♪♫ Rocky is strong. Rocky okay. Grace weak sea blob. Grace not okay, statement. ♫♪” Rocky moved in front of Ryland, causing him to stop and take a breather. His gills ached as the stale water refused to move through them freely.
“No no, I’m ok Rocky. Just give me a moment.” He wheezed out, moving past the stubborn crab. “My species are just not made for the deep sea.” Pressure wrapped around him like grasping hands, covering his gills and keeping him from moving. Every breath burned. Thick, unmoving water dragged across his gills without giving him anything back, leaving his chest tighter and tighter.
Ryland couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move.
“♪♫ Grace! Grace! Grace! Need rest! Need help! How help question?!♫♪” Rocky scuttled around Ryland, his claws clicking frantically against Ryland’s scales through the bubble, sharp little taps that barely registered through the numbness creeping into his limbs.
“I’m… fine Rock…” He forced out, “my pump… from my bag…” Rocky was quick, jumping up to the satchel on Ryland’s hip and pulling out a small water pump. He handed it quickly to the suffering merman and Ryland was quick to start pumping it near his gills, reawakening them to the movement. It was a genius invention he had made himself, back when he thought it would be used for other mers and not himself. Before Stratt packed one for him herself. He took in a few steady breaths as his gills loosened again. Fresh currents rushed through his gills at last, cool enough to sting. “Thanks rock.”
“♪♫ Grace stupid! Why wait till almost pass out before trying pump, question? ♫♪”
Ryland chuckled, “I don’t really know actually, our species is just stubborn when we need help I guess.”
“♪♫ Why Grace laugh? Not humor to Rocky, no no no. ♫♪” Rocky stomped his foot, making angry little clicking noises.
“I’m fine Rocky, I promise. And from now on, I’ll carry the pump and use it regularly, sound good to you?” Ryland clipped his Jellyfish lamp and water pump to his bag, ready for quick use. Rocky grumbled a small yes before they continued.
Every so often the darkness flashed with distant bioluminescent eyes.
The journey continued in uneasy silence.
Through the quiet, Rocky’s shell would click softly against a passing stone, the only reassurance that Ryland wasn’t completely alone in the endless dark. The deeper they swam, the stranger the water became. Colder. Still. Heavy enough that every movement lingered painfully in Ryland’s muscles.
Then something changed and Ryland paused mid-stroke.
“Rocky…?”
“♪♫ Grace hear too, statement. ♫♪”
A low groan echoed through the water.
Not alive.
Not quite.
The sound rolled through the abyss like a whale call dragged across rusted metal. Ryland’s lamp flickered faintly as another current swept past them, carrying the scent of old wood, oil, and decay.
Then shapes emerged from the dark.
Ryland froze. Ships. Dozens of them.
Broken hulls rested against the ocean floor like giant skeletons, their ribs split open from centuries beneath the sea. Some leaned against jagged cliffs while others had collapsed entirely, spilling their contents into the deep. Torn nets drifted lazily between masts coated in pale barnacles and ghost-white coral.
The graveyard stretched farther than Ryland’s light could reach.
“Holy…” Ryland whispered.
A massive anchor lay half-buried beneath the silt beside him, its chain disappearing into darkness overhead. One wreck still had its mast intact, though the wood creaked horribly whenever the current shifted.
“♪♫ Human dead place? Question. ♫♪”
Ryland nodded slowly. “Yeah… I think so.” His voice came out quieter than intended.
Something about the graveyard felt wrong. Not dangerous exactly, but sacred.
Like the ocean had swallowed these ships whole and never bothered to spit them back out.
Ryland drifted toward the nearest wreck carefully, brushing his fingers against the hull. The wood crumbled instantly beneath his touch, dissolving into clouds of debris that spiraled through the water like ash.
“Okay, wow. Definitely old.”
Rocky scuttled closer, bubble gleaming softly in the dim blue light. “♪♫ Why humans make floating wood caves, question? ♫♪”
Ryland huffed a small laugh.
“For carrying supplies mostly. Sometimes people. Sometimes for exploration.”
“♪♫ Exploration dangerous. Humans strange. ♫♪”
“Yeah,” Ryland muttered, staring into the darkness between the wrecks. “You have no idea.”
A sudden metallic creak rang out somewhere deeper in the graveyard. Both of them snapped still.
Another groan followed, long and slow. The sound of something enormous shifting in the dark.
Ryland tightened his grip on the jellyfish lamp.
Far below them, a pair of bioluminescent eyes blinked open.
“Rocky…” Ryland’s voice quavered, “...what is that…” He took a few careful strokes backward, ready to bolt the moment the eyes moved.
Rocky made a small whine as he backed up as well, pressing himself against Ryland’s side. A small but comforting touch.
The eyes didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just stared. Eerie and quiet.
After a couple minutes of nothing, Ryland released a small breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding.
“H-hello?” He tried, inching a shift closer. “We aren’t here to hurt you.” He tried again, this time growing a bit bolder. The eyes seemed to be peeking from a rusted submarine, its metal hull swallowed by rust and silence.
“♪♫ What Grace doing!? Grace get us killed! ♫♪” Rocky clicked, attempting to keep the curious fish from going any closer.
“What if it needs help?”
“♪♫ Soon we’ll need help if Grace keep being stupid! ♫♪” The worried irritation came through clearly with every tap.
Ryland moved closer again, but this time something shifted. The glowing eyes moved slightly, shifting to reveal more around them.
Ryland flinched, his tail thrashing to stop his forward momentum. They weren't eyes at all. They were bioluminescent lures, bobbing at the tips of long, ghostly whiskers.
“Yeah, no. We’re leaving.” He breathed out, backing away further, “Nope, you were right Rocky, any creature with lures like those is dangerous.” His heart pummeled his rib cage as he backed away slowly, trying to draw as little attention to them as possible.
Then he stopped.
Dread sparked deep in Rylands core as a metallic taste penetrated his senses. He shifted quickly, peering back to the rusted submarine, a deep black substance drifting into his jellyfish light.
Dark clouds drifted slowly through the water below.
Ryland’s stomach dropped.
Blood.
So much blood.
