Under the Sea ♪♫♩
Posted: Mon Jul 11, 2016 2:59 pm
As the two halves of the HMS Dauntless slowly sink beneath the waves there's a pair of eyes that opens in the murky depths. It had been following the cluster of shadows above, following the sense of foreboding doom the fleet carried with it. And now it would reap it's reward. Panic and fear permeates the waters as sailors and cavemen are pulled down with the ship. The pair of eyes darts through the darkness and into the metal bulk. Still sinking the metal hallways move and shift but that doesn't deter the shadow. Effortlessly it glides through the shifting maze, searching. It comes to a tilted room still full of air and a three sailors taking shelter in it despite their inevitable doom.
They can see the shape slip into the room under the flickering emergency lights but almost immediately they know that it's not one of their own or even one of the cavemen. It's the inevitability of being dragged beneath the waves, of sinking. The dark promise of a sailor's grave. One of them suddenly disappears, yanked beneath the water's surface. Panicked screams echo off the metal walls as the water churns and soon is tainted red by a spreading cloud. Something wraps itself around the second sailor and he clings to what once was the rung of a ladder, now on the 'ceiling' above him. The shape briefly rises from the waters and with a wet tearing sound the sailor's arm is cut free. It remains hanging on the rung while the rest of him is pulled into the red waters. The last soldier can only watch in horror until the thing rises from below again. It breaches the surface and the narrow face of what could only be called a fair maiden looks at him with big eyes. Her her clings to her face, red with blood. A fishtail swishes underneath in the water and as she opens her mouth an almost unreal sound fills the small pocket of air. A hauntingly beautiful dirge is the last thing going through the sailor's mind before the siren's lips peel back to reveal countless needle-teeth.
They can see the shape slip into the room under the flickering emergency lights but almost immediately they know that it's not one of their own or even one of the cavemen. It's the inevitability of being dragged beneath the waves, of sinking. The dark promise of a sailor's grave. One of them suddenly disappears, yanked beneath the water's surface. Panicked screams echo off the metal walls as the water churns and soon is tainted red by a spreading cloud. Something wraps itself around the second sailor and he clings to what once was the rung of a ladder, now on the 'ceiling' above him. The shape briefly rises from the waters and with a wet tearing sound the sailor's arm is cut free. It remains hanging on the rung while the rest of him is pulled into the red waters. The last soldier can only watch in horror until the thing rises from below again. It breaches the surface and the narrow face of what could only be called a fair maiden looks at him with big eyes. Her her clings to her face, red with blood. A fishtail swishes underneath in the water and as she opens her mouth an almost unreal sound fills the small pocket of air. A hauntingly beautiful dirge is the last thing going through the sailor's mind before the siren's lips peel back to reveal countless needle-teeth.