The Invasion

41 | The Ocean of Death

Coldness strikes me with a force that almost knocks me out. The darkness of the ocean swallows me whole. As I descend into the depths of the abyss, shadows encroaching on the edges of my vision—scaly creatures.

There aren't just a few, but a whole mob of them. Their ravenous eyes watch me as I struggle to swim, red eyes gleaming brighter at the blood seeping out from my wound. They're flocking in like ants to meet their sweet treat.

Terror and helplessness run through my bones. My heart palpitates harder and faster than ever, blood pounding into my brain like a drum. In a panic, I flail my unwounded arm and legs, trying to push my body up to the surface, but on the contrary, I'm sinking faster than the Titanic. Because of my inability to swim, there's no way out for me from this.

I'm about to die in the worst possible way.

A dark mass with fins dart past me, barely visible in the cloudy water. Something hits my back painfully, then another creature claws at my shoulders and draws more blood. The next hit knocks the breath out of me, forcing out an involuntary gasp from me. My mouth fills with the distasteful water instantly, going down my windpipe and cutting off the last bit of my air supply. Choking me.

My lungs burn hotter than a furnace, aching for air. I can't feel my thighs anymore and my kicks are getting weaker. My mind goes blank and my consciousness slowly slips away.

Suddenly, a memory from the past springs to my mind. I hear the same male voice that spoke to me when I was a kid, back when I almost drowned in the water.

Do not be afraid, dear child.

These words have found a place in my heart and as I grow older, I find a greater meaning behind them.

Because once you give in to your fears, that's when you stop living.

Water is a part of me.

My veins throb badly. Something explodes within my chest, like a bolt of lightning shooting from the center of the rest of my limbs and out from my fingertips. There's a flash of blue light and a tremor in the water, which causes the creatures to screech in pain. The attacks against me completely cease; the atmosphere faltering to an unearthly silence.

My eyelids droop heavily and I go limp, succumbing to the darkness that awaits me.

***

Something nudges my body. Not just once, but a few times. A calm voice enters my mind, slowly reeling me back to reality.

Wake up.

I jerk wide awake, and the first thing that my brain registers is how my muscles knot in pain. Confused, I sweep my arms, patting myself down to check my condition. My blonde locks float around me, water caressing my scalp.

I don't know how much time has passed, but I'm still alive and deep in the ocean, breathing in the strangest way—through my gills instead of my nose.

This means I must have morphed again for the second time in my life. My legs are still there, which only brings me to a conclusion that half-merfolks clearly do not morph the same way as a full-blood would.

A gray pectoral fin glides past me suddenly, startling me with its presence. My guard goes up immediately because I'm wondering if this creature is going to attack me again.

However, when it comes back, it greets me warmly.

Greetings, merlady.

My eyes grow wide at its friendliness. This is the first time I'm actually having a normal conversation with a sea animal. How do I even answer it? Can it read my mind or does this work like a channel?