S. Welles - To Ocean's End

“Wakie, wakie, little soul,” a high-pitched, mischievous voice taunted. A collection of voices cackled. Their voices echoed off what sounded like a hollowed-out cavern.

Oh, god. Not this place again.

I kept my eyes closed and just floated on my back in the lukewarm water. I wanted to pretend I wasn’t here, but no amount of pretending would change the situation. The pain from my fatal injury didn’t carry over to whatever dimension this was; just my soul and a physical manifestation of my body and attire. I didn’t come here during every lockdown; only when sustaining a fatal blow. I didn’t know how it all worked, but this was where my soul went, until I clawed my way back to the mortal plane. This was all part of my curse.

The creature snarled, and then I got a nose full of water as a small hand shoved me below the surface.

“Wake up!”

I popped my eyes open and flailed back to the surface. The water swirled around me as several fishy creatures darted away, laughing. I treaded water and took a moment to get my bearings, along with let it sink in that I was back in this horrible place.

I was in a deep cenote. Didn’t matter where in relation to Earth’s geography since I wasn’t anywhere near there. Hell, I wasn’t far either. All I had to do was wake up in the mortal plane and my soul would be reunited with my physical body. The only problem was, in order to do that, I had to exit the cenote via the dark, gaping hole above us. My company didn’t want me to do that. They’d do their best to keep me stuck; however, I’d escaped before, and I’d escape again. It was just a matter of time. Hopefully this escape wouldn’t take a year, like last time. My then crew from over fifty years ago had understandably taken me for dead. I had to start life over with a new boat and new crew. That had taken a lot of strength of will to get back in the saddle.

So yeah, even though I couldn’t die, this hellish place was the reason I didn’t commit suicide between lockdowns. Slogging through an unnaturally long life full of losing people I cared about was better than sending my immortal soul to Amphitrite’s vicious pets.

The cenote’s vaulted rock walls were lit by glowing plants and worms, and crawling with all sorts of mythical water monsters, mostly nereids. None of them were larger than wolves. They looked mostly like frogs with teeth and claws, and they clung to the rock and flora like lizards. They had bulbous eyes, fanged mouths like crocs, and finlike tails that packed a good smack. They were too many for me to contend with as a human, but no match versus my demon form. However, transforming was exactly what they and Amphitrite wanted.

I swam to the edge of the water and pulled myself onto the rocky bank. A dozen nereids backed away and crouched by the wall. I sat on the lip and let my feet stay in the water. Keeping contact with it helped me keep track of where my company was and how many there were. The glow worms and such cast the cenote in a mix of greens and blues, and bioluminescent fish swimming among the monsters kept getting blocked out by dozens of froggy silhouettes. I was surrounded by hundreds of nereids.

“Amphitrite’s little demon pet has come back to play,” the monster nearest me said. “It’s been a long time. He doesn’t visit often enough.” Others cackled. The ones on the bank began to inch closer.

I got to my feet and water dripped onto the rock and back into the pool. My company shied away. Their skittishness was partially an act. If I provoked them, they’d eagerly tear into me. This was just a game to them, to see how long before I cracked. I took in their sheer numbers and let out a resigned sigh. I was already on the verge of cracking. First the water show after lockdown, then the stunts in the train station and La Havre, and then my lash-outs versus Tethys. What was one more? “This visit’s gonna be much shorter. I’ve got things to do back where I belong.”

“What things?” another asked.

“Take care of my crew, make a few deliveries, and try to get rid of my curse.” It didn’t matter whether or not I told them the truth or anything at all. They just liked to bicker with me. I was the sideshow freak in this place, and I felt like it.

“No!” A third said. “Forget about them. Stay with us and play.”

“Stay cursed. It’s more fun that way!” More cackling.

Something cold pawed at my hand. I spun and put up my fists. A naiad crouched before me and didn’t flinch. She was smaller than the nereids, had breasts like a woman, and bigger lips and wider hips than her male counterparts. She looked up at me with her bulbous eyes.

“Why do you hide in your human shell? Your demon form is so much more fun.”

“Human is boring!” another shouted.

“Says you,” I said.

“Says all of us!” another said. More voiced their agreement. The cenote echoed with dozens upon dozens of voices. The nearest creatures began creeping towards me again and their voices unified into a chant.

“Demon, demon, demon!”

I glared at the nearest monsters. “No,” I said firmly. They stopped their advance. The chanting lost its uniformity and the word “no” rippled out among them, some saying it in disbelief and others questioningly, but at least it got them to stop goading me.

The nereid who’d woken me stood on its hind legs and held up its arms. “No!” The rest fell silent, letting the sound of water drizzling into the pool fill the humid air.

At the creature’s full height, it stood no taller than my stomach. It glared at me, undaunted by our size difference. None of them frightened me, not even their sheer numbers. They filled me only with dread and misery.

“Then we will make you!” it said.

Several tackled me into the water and we went under with a big splash. The sound of bubbling and swishing filled my ears, along with their dolphin-like calls. I rolled and flailed, and they let go. No sooner had I figured out which way was up did they tackle me again. I flailed some more, shaking them off, but not before they pulled me a little deeper. I swam for the surface, got a gulp of air, and they pulled me down by my ankles. The struggle began anew.

I fought my way to the surface several times, getting a little closer to shore with each gulp of air. They were toying with me. I knew it. They knew I knew it. I also had to concede it was probably a matter of time before they got what I didn’t want, but I’d exhaust all my other options first.

Right as my face broke the surface for the millionth time, I opened my mouth and gulped down water instead as they prematurely yanked me back under. I coughed it out only to suck in more water. I began to panic as I fought the urge to inhale. My chest tightened. I’d only black out for a while if I drowned in this place, but who knows how long that’d be on Earth? I couldn’t afford to waste my opportunity with Jessie.

I called water to me and launched myself and several nereids onto the rocky shore. My attackers let go as I landed on my hands and knees and coughed up water. I gagged a couple of times, then gasped for air. A few tried to sneak up from behind but I swept them away with a crescent of water. They began chanting for my demon form again.

Ironically, I wasn’t entirely sure what my demon form looked like. No one had ever held up a mirror to my transformed body. I just knew it was fifty feet tall, had fishy features, a grayish-blue hide, and a few extra abilities my human self lacked.

I looked at the water teeming with monsters, and then at the cenote’s dark opening a hundred feet above me. There were plenty of outcrops and plants to help me climb up, out, and back to consciousness, but they’d never let me climb unmolested. This left me with another idea I doubted would work, but I had to at least try or I’d never know.