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moved at a steady pace, having already traveled a good forty-six minutes, and only had fourteen more to go. The man in control stood firm as he held the steering wheel, and watched every inch of the water in front of him. He was mostly looking for possible schools of fish, but it was hard to see into the water, especially from this distance. The only thing he had seen that morning was water, and the metal of the trawler's deck, which was not the most appealing of objects to stare at. 

He looked over to his side and peered out the side-view window, and saw, once again, nothing but water. A sigh escaped from his mouth as he turned back to face the main. The sun had finally raised enough to make the water glimmer and shine, and sparkle with light and warm heat. The sight was pretty for a while, then it just got tiring. But then, a much more attractive sight came into view; his destination. The spot he could always identify, the brig pool. It was simply a large, deep pool-like area of the ocean where thousands of fish came daily to feed. He bent down and pulled on the breaks, and the trawler came to a heaving stop. He quickly jumped onto the deck and grabbed his fishing pole.

After a few minutes of preparation, he sat down into a small blue folding chair, and cast out onto the water. The hook landed twenty feet out, and slowly fell deeper into the water. The man leaned back and waited. Everything went silent. Then. . .

The bottom of the trawler was hit, and hard. The man went flying backwards onto the deck, and slid to the opposite side. He quickly got up and peered over the edge, about to see a dorsal fin. . . but he didn't. There was nothing. . . no fin, no shark, nothing.

It was hit again.

The man flew across to the other side, and peered over again. Nothing. No dorsal fin, no shark. Just some unknown predator. . .wham! The boat was hit again, sending the man flying into the control compartment. He reached up and grabbed the steering wheel, and hoisted himself up. He listened for a moment. Everything was silent. He quickly began turning the wheel away.  .  . Away from this terrible place. . . something smashed up against the windshield, forcing him to fall backwards.

It was a long, scaly arm that looked like it could only belong to the worst of nightmares, it had nothing but horrifying eyes on one side, and scaly skin on the other. The eyes stuck to the glass of the window, oozing wet slime that ran down it, streaking it. The man backed up slowly, crab-walking away from the horrible image. . . but then another arm rose up from the water, bumping into the side of the boat.

The man watched in terror as the arm slithered over the side and onto the deck. It made an odd motion, then reeled back into the water below. Then. . . he heard something. He jerked his head in the sound's direction, and saw three more arms, rising up, and smashing into everything they could. His breaths were short-lived as he watched, blank with fear.

Another large arm broke through the wood, and pushed him down to the back of the boat. His head hit the wood with a hard blow, and blood slowly oozed from the gash. The arms towered menacingly above him, smashing everything they could. The arm smashed against the glass broke through it, and wrapped itself around the metal bar that held the control compartment together. The other arms joined in, and wrapped themselves around the other three bars, and pulling to the left. Two pushed while three pulled, and the man watched with a look of utter terror on his face. He knew now what these things were that tore apart his boat. He knew they could only belong to one creature. . . and only be one thing. . .tentacles.

He climbed. . . he climbed towards the compartment, with the red metal bars beginning to break free from the wood. The boat suddenly leaned to the right, with the tentacles pulling it. The man slid down, towards the right side of the boat, now filling with water. . . and the massive, towering tentacles directed it.

At the last second, it all broke free, and the boat jerked back into position, throwing the man back and forth, from side to side. Then, the massive monster below whacked the bottom of the boat again, rocking it even more.

The tentacles rose again, and pulled the man down. . . down into the water. He held his breath and shut his eyes as the led him straight for his watery grave. . .

 

                                            *  *  *

 

 The sunlight that now made up the afternoon was becoming hotter with every second that ticked by. Sweat soaked Jasper's upper half that wasn't beneath the water, and made him feel like he was fully under it. He had fully dried out from the previous night by this time, and was miles away from the rocks that he had clung to only yesterday. But none of that mattered now. All that he cared about now was finding something to eat.

His stomach was beginning to hurt like never before. The pain felt like major cramps or even food poisoning. But he knew that it was neither of them. It was simply hunger. He was drifting along in the open water, nearly vomiting from the combination of the lack of food, and the way the current jerked him softly from side to side. His head was throbbing for some reason. Every bone in his body felt like it had snapped. All of his muscles were sore and some of them even felt like they had been ripped apart. His should felt like it had been pulled from his skin, and tossed away into the inky depths of the ocean, just like the cargo ship had done. The thought of that ship made him shiver. A chill ran down his spine and made his nerves tingle.

Then, his stomach rumbled once again, vibrating the water surrounding it. He slid his hand over it, hoping and praying he would find something to eat soon. But the chances of that while adrift in open water were slim. At least that's what he remembered from the ocean survival class. But he had no choice but to at least try. Otherwise, he would die. He needed water just as much. Maybe more. All he knew is that he needed it all. What he wanted was to be back home. That was clear. But that wasn't happening right now. He shut his eyes as the pain rumbled on inside his stomach, and he shut them tightly.

But when he opened them again, he saw something, off a little ways into the distance. It was large and white in color. It wasn't far from the area where he was drifting, and he could easily reach it through swimming in a few minutes. So he did. He began stroking through the water at a quick pace, just waiting for his muscles to fire up with pain along with everything else that hurt. He swam for another fifty seconds before finally having to stop on account of the pain that, just as he expected, was now shooting through his muscles and nerves. He let the pain cease before swimming a little further towards the object.

The closer he got, the better he could see what it was. It looked like a fishing boat that was sinking very slowly. There didn't appear to be anyone on board, as of what he could see. It didn't look like he seeing the full boat. He swam a little closer, inch by inch until he reached it, and saw the whole thing. The boat was leaned over to its side, and had holes along the sides and deck. Jasper raised an eyebrow. The boat was in a very odd shape. Clearly, something rammed it.

He carefully swam up to it, and felt its splintered wood siding with his hand. The paint was real old, and came off onto his hand. His thoughts all came to one conclusion: investigate. He reached up and grabbed the side, the hoisted himself over the thin edge and onto the deck. He landed with a loud thud, and then sat still for a moment. He listened for any sound that would indicate the ship was falling. But he heard nothing. Only the same old sound of the water below. He began looking around the ship's main deck. In the corners sat puddles of drying sea water, along with some bird feces, and . . . . blood. The sight sent a chill down not only his spine, but his entire body. The stuff was everywhere. Even along the sides and bow.

His eyes couldn't move away from the puddles of blood that filled the boat's interior. There was something odd going on here. Really odd. But, obviously, he didn't know what. He forced himself to take his eyes away from the gruesome sight and continued to search around the boat. The large, towering poles and wires that hung from the navigation compartment were snapped and bent, and some even torn from their places. Then his eyes came to rest on the odd markings that were embedded everywhere on the boat. They were long rows of thick and perfectly round circles. It was almost like a pattern . . . except made out of blood. He gulped as he stared at them, trying to make sense of the whole thing. When he had first seen the ship from a certain distance, it looked like a shark had rammed it. But this was different. Something much bigger had attacked this ship. Something that was definitely not a shark. The markings could have been a design that had been put on the boat, but he seriously doubted that.

They didn't usually do that. Usually they just painted it or just left it as wood, with no paint or designs. And, these markings were ragged and just too odd to be man-made. No, something had made these. Out of the corner of his eye, Jasper saw something slither down into the water off the side of the boat. From what he could tell, it almost looked like a snake wiggling down into the depths. He looked in its direction, but it was gone. After a moment, he shrugged his shoulders, and kept looking around. The markings had even been embedded onto the metal equipment that rose high above the roof of the navigation compartment. Jasper's eyes widened when he saw that. Something really big must have gotten ahold of this ship. But what?

As he stared in amazement and dis-belief, his breathing slowed. The sight before him was simply to horrid to bare, but, just like with the pools of blood, he couldn't peel his eyes from it. Then, something hit the boat. He fell over onto his side and slid across the deck. He stopped at the opposite side while hitting his head against the wood. He sat up quickly and peered over the side of the boat. He expected to see a shark's fin, but he didn't. He waited a few minutes to see if one would circle around to his side. Then, after that failed, he looked over to his right. Still, no fin. Then, he heard a loud banging noise, and turned around to see a slimy tentacle smashing against the window of the navigation compartment. The rows of suckers latched on to the glass with their tiny hooks, and it cracked. He couldn't move. He was paralyzed by fear. The suckers that lined the tentacle were an exact match. Whatever was lurking below was the same thing that had cap-sized this boat.

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