Chapter Text
It had all started as a nice, ordinary dive between friends. The weather was perfect, a warm sunny late summer day, with a light cool breeze they could barely feel on their skin. As the car made its way down the dirt path to the rocky beach, Soap took in the sight of the deep blue ocean shimmering under the sun. He took a lungful of air, thick with the smell of salt and warm sand. The water looked calm, low waves lazily rolling and crashing into the large pointy rocks that rose above the surface of the sea.
The car came to a halt, sand and gravel creaking under the tires, and Soap was out before Gaz even pulled the handbrake. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he took a second to enjoy the scenery. No other cars around, no trace of people anywhere on the beach or in the water. Unexpected, but they weren't about to complain about it. The spot was a bit isolated but well-known from other divers in the area. With the sharp rocks surrounding the little cove both above and under the surface, the many crevices and the steep slope that Soap knew was awaiting them just a few feet after entering the water, the place was dangerous for swimmers, but a favourite of experienced divers.
Soap turned around as Gaz opened the trunk of the car and started to help him get everything out. Together, they dragged all their gear, heavy bags and metal tanks, all the way to the wooden pier further down the beach. It was old and full of shards that they had to be careful not to walk barefoot on, almost half of it was currently submerged due to the high tide, but they knew it was still sturdy enough.
Once they were done bringing everything from the car, Soap turned towards Gaz and lightly punched his shoulder.
“Last one of the week, mate!”
“It’s crazy we’re the only ones here,” Gaz answered, just as excited. “I thought there’d be at least another team.”
“We have the ocean to ourselves. Could even go in naked and no one would know!”
“Go ahead, I can’t wait to see you freeze your arse off five minutes in!”
They continued to chat and banter as they changed into their wetsuits and assembled their gear, connecting the tanks with the regulators and jackets, before carrying everything they needed to the edge of the pier. There, the air between them instantly became more serious as they started to get ready. They turned the small valve on the side of the tanks until they heard the characteristic hissing sound that let them know air was now flowing to the regulators and inflatable jackets. Soap turned on his camera and took the time to set it up. It was a small, compact, waterproof device that would be more than enough for today. Meanwhile, Kyle entered parameters on his watch-like computer before attaching it to his wrist. They sat on the edge of the platform, and Soap shivered slightly when he let his bare feet touch the water, so cold that he could feel it seep through the thick fabric protecting his legs, but not enough to deter him.
They both took the time to put on their fins and masks, then to adjust the straps of the heavy jackets on their shoulders and torso. With barely a word, they turned to check each other’s gear in practiced motions. They had been partners for several years now, and even more as teammates in the military. Soap had taken Gaz with him one day as he’d volunteered on his leave to initiate a small group of tourists to scuba diving. He had hoped for a fun outing with a friend and the opportunity to share his hobby, but it had worked way better than expected. They would then share most of their leaves together anywhere they could find a body of water, and even more often since Soap had retired. Gaz had passed his certifications so fast that John could now entirely trust him to take the lead when he wanted to focus a little more on observation and taking pictures.
For today, they were planning a simple excursion, to relax and enjoy the last rays of sunshine of the season, before the wind and the cold took over. They wouldn’t go any further than twenty metres deep, maybe even less, to avoid the colder, darker water. With their tanks full and at this depth, they could afford to stay underwater for almost an hour without worrying about having to make a decompression stop on their way back up.
Soap ran his last checks, made sure he could breathe just fine through his regulator, that his knife and flashlight were secured to his thigh, his camera to his wrist. Then, looking at Gaz, he waited for his signal. When it came, a simple nod and a relaxed smile around the regulator to answer Soap's own, he threw one last look at the horizon, the deep blue of the ocean blending with the clear sky in a grey line miles away. A small impulse to jump from the pier, a splash of water, a pull of the valve to deflate their jackets, and just like that, they entered a different world.
The sun wasn't blinding anymore, the shrill cries of seabirds couldn't reach them anymore. On their slow descent, Soap slightly pinched his nose to gently blow through it until he heard the tiny release of air that relieved the pressure in his ears before it became painful. He watched as his partner did the same, attentive to any sign of discomfort. As they finally kneeled in the sand at the bottom, barely five metres, still close to the wooden pole of the pier covered in algae, Gaz joined his thumb and index finger in a circle. Both an affirmation that everything was fine on his end and a question directed at Soap, that he answered with the same signal.
When he looked ahead, in the same direction he had before getting in the water, Soap couldn't help the sigh of relief that left him and sent a column of bubbles above their heads. No more sky, clouds, wind nor sun. No more horizon. Everything around them had been replaced by a vast nothingness made of various hues of blue.
To many people, it looked scary ; an unknown, unfamiliar, mysterious environment, unnatural for humans to be in. Impossible for humans to be in, without a bottle of the air that their life depended on.
But Soap loved everything about this foreign world. Found it comforting. Even the immense weight of the water that he was aware could crush him if he went too deep felt like a blanket to him, enveloping his entire body, soothing him. It all looked so slow and calm, yet bustling with life when you knew where to look and what to look for. He knew it wasn't a place he belonged to, and every trip felt like a privilege, a luxury to be allowed here for only a few moments.
He smiled again, and doing so, let a little of the salty water enter his mouth. How he would miss this during the cold and rainy winter months. He couldn't wait to capture new wonders and memories for their last time here before next year.
Refocusing on the present time, Soap lifted his camera up and looked at the small lit up screen. Everything seemed to be working. He gently caught Gaz by a strap of his jacket to get him closer. Taking a selfie underwater could be tricky, and never of an amazing quality, with the way movements were slowed and visibility was reduced. And the fact that they wore large masks on half of their face, and a breathing device on the other half was not the most flattering of looks. But, holding his camera a bit too far in front of him, at a weird angle to be able to press the button, Soap snapped his first picture of the day with his best friend anyway. Then, on Gaz's signal, they finally set off on their journey.
The swim was mostly a straight line – or as straight as it could be with the tide trying to pull them astray –, to reach the spot they were interested in today. Large, tall stone walls and pillars, sticking out at the bottom of the slope that the divers called the hollow cliffs. It was the area where most of the species were concentrating, thriving among the kelp, corals, anemones and countless of crevices and even small caves sculpted by the waves for hundreds, if not thousands of years.
It was then, as they arrived at the edge of the steep slope and started to descend further, that Soap could tell something was wrong. People often described oceans, in a poetic feat, as the world of silence. And sure, compared to the busy, bustling surface filled with shrill bird cries, explosive thunderstorms, booming music, hectic car horns, overlapping screams, crackling flames, stuttering gunfire— Underwater felt like a blissfully quiet immensity.
But it was loud. Only slower.
Air pockets dislodged from crevices by a school of colourful fish passing by and sent back to the surface in a high-pitched flurry of bubbles. Ethereal, majestic chants of whales calling for their peers across the ocean, reverberating from miles and miles away. Low and vibrating grinding of stone against stone, cracking ice, movements of the Earth itself. All sounds that were only perceptible here, where they met no obstacle.
But now, halfway through the descent towards the bottom of the cliff, there was nothing. No sign of any movement, no sound except for the air Soap and Gaz were blowing through their regulators. The water suddenly felt thick and heavy, heavier than it should be at this depth, and a sense of dread settled in Soap's stomach. His legs felt like he was trying to swim through mud, and he had to focus to keep his breathing even.
He noticed Gaz had slowed down as well and was looking around for a sign of threat. Soap lightly tapped on his tank to get his attention. And maybe also to try to reassure himself by making some noise. When their eyes met, Soap brought a hand to his face, thumb touching his forehead and fingers pointing towards the surface to imitate a fin, before tracing a circle to indicate the area.
Think there’s a shark nearby?
It was the only reason he could think of for it to be so calm around here. There was probably a shark or some other predator wandering in this part of the ocean, prompting all living things to hide or flee. Most were relatively harmless to humans, even the bigger specimens, as long as they kept their distance. They weren’t usually a cause for concern, if anything Soap would even be a little excited for a rare encounter. He’d had his fair share, and quite a few close calls as well. He knew what to look out for and how to deal with most situations. Yet somehow, this apprehension that was clinging to him like cold, sticky seaweed told him it was something else. Something bigger and actually dangerous.
Gaz shook his head before answering with his own series of hand signals, pointing at his eyes and around them both, closing a fist on his chest.
Let’s take a quick look and get out of here.
It was all Soap needed to know that his partner felt the same as him. Remembering his camera still attached to his wrist, he decided to switch it to video mode. Just in case, he thought. But in case of what, he had no idea yet.
He stayed even closer to Gaz than before as they finally swam the remaining distance separating them from the hollow cliff. The water was dark and felt considerably colder. Soap kept telling himself it was normal at this depth, but it wasn’t enough to soothe his nerves, especially since he still couldn’t see any sign of a life. Every fish seemed to have fled the area, and all the other creatures that could not were hiding in their shells, underneath the sand or in deep cavities. Soap was trying to think of what kind of threat could cause all life to desert the area. It was too close to shore for predators like orcas or large sharks. Some smaller species like barracudas could be seen rather frequently, but none that would justify the place to be so still and empty even of creatures that weren’t prey. And it didn’t justify the way Soap felt either, anxious and on edge, as if he was a prey himself or had just entered a trapped building and was expecting a bomb or an enemy behind every rock he could spot.
He was snapped out of his spiraling thoughts by Gaz pointing his flashlight somewhere just a little further down from them. At the edge of where the light could reach, he could make out a hole in the stone, large enough for a human to slip into. Deep enough too, judging by how dark it looked despite the light. It was then, as they stilled to examine their surroundings, that Soap noticed. A thin but steady stream of bubbles. The two divers exchanged a confused look, and Gaz continued to approach the cave slowly. Could this be the reason for the eerie emptiness of the area? The bubbles were so small the air was dissolving in the water before even reaching the top of the stone pillar. The only explanation Soap could think of then, rather than any sort of dangerous animal, was the release of some gas pocket from even deeper underground. The region was not prone to any seismic activity, but maybe some small vibrations could have been enough to…
Soap’s blood chilled in his veins mid-thought. For a fraction of a second, at the edge of the hole, the flashlight had reflected on something. Something scaly. Something moving.
He barely had the time to join Gaz with a powerful kick of his fins and grab his jacket to pull him back. Too late to dodge the serpentine tail that hit him. There was a flash of silver before the lamp flickered and died, immediately replaced by a blueish glow coming from the inside of the cave that froze Soap on the spot. Everything was pitch black all around, save for this fluorescent blue that outlined a coiled shape, like the skeleton of a huge snake. Ready to strike again.
It was the feeling of hands and elbows repeatedly hitting his chest that broke the spell. Soap let the instincts of both the experienced soldier and scuba diver take over. Take Gaz to safety. It was the only thought going through his mind, the only objective. Time seemed to slow down as the creature started to move again. Tightening his grip on his teammate's vest, Soap pulled him close and brought his right hand to Gaz’s face to make sure he wouldn't lose his regulator in his panicked state and, as the mesmerising blue light was getting dangerously close, he started to swim away with all the strength that adrenaline could spare.
When his eyes were able to catch some light from the surface again, his mind registered that Gaz had lost his mask upon getting hit earlier, and had probably been blind since then. Completely dependent on Soap. It didn't seem like the thing that had attacked them was following them. But what made Soap finally stop was the furious beeping of the computers, warning that he was ascending too fast. Focused on fleeing as quickly as possible, he hadn’t really paid attention to the direction. Once he was sure they were far enough and back in an area devoid of any life — which he somehow found more reassuring now —, Soap quickly assessed Gaz’s state. He tapped lightly on his tank, using morse code to communicate now that his partner could not see anything. The metallic sound was almost deafening in the surrounding silence and newfound quiet.
S-A-F-E.
It was both meant as an affirmation that they were out of danger and a question as to how Gaz was feeling. Soap could see a small cut above his nose, probably caused by his own mask, that looked to have already mostly stopped bleeding. He seemed to have calmed down and was breathing fine. Still, he only let out an actual sigh of relief when he answered with a hand signal that he was okay. Then half-frowned, half-smiled and showed his eyes with frantic gestures that Soap could roughly translate to ‘salt hurts like a bitch’. He chuckled in his regulator and some of the tension lifted off of his chest now that he was sure they were both okay. Now to actually get them out of here and back on land.
He looked at the small device on his wrist. Still sixteen metres to the surface. He was surprised to see the timer say barely twenty minutes had gone by since they had jumped off the pier. It felt like they had been in here for double the time. But it at least meant they would only need a short safety stop near the surface. The ascent should take about five minutes all in all.
With a few more taps to inform Gaz they were going up, Soap started to swim towards brighter waters, this time at a reasonable speed, still not letting go of his partner’s jacket.
He had no idea how far off the coast they were, between leaving the lead to Gaz who was now incapacitated, the tide carrying them and his mad rush to get the hell away alive from… whatever that was. He only knew that he should head South as much as he could, using Gaz’s compass, while simultaneously going upwards. Then if he couldn’t find the exact way back, they would have to figure it out at the surface. At least they would be able to see and breathe normally.
Luckily, his strategy paid off. Using the three minutes of the safety stop to continue swimming horizontally, making sure to stay five metres below the surface, Soap finally found himself directly back at the top of the slope. Relief washed over him. It felt like leaving a dark, dead and dangerous world. And in a way, it was. There was actually some life here, he could see shells and crabs and eels scurrying in the sand, small groups of gleaming silvery fish fleeing in all directions as he went through them.
When the computer finally beeped to allow them to swim the remaining distance, Soap did so with a lighter heart and a longing for fresh air he had never felt so strongly during a dive. The cool wind striking their faces greeted them first as they emerged, followed by the sound of waves crashing and seabirds overhead. The surface was just as they had left it. They were back. But Soap’s mission wasn’t done. Somehow, now that the pier was only a few strides away, the feeling of urgency was back in his stomach. Gaz barely had any time to rub the salty water from his eyes before he was hauled again by his jacket to cover the last few metres and guided to climb the ladder to the wooden platform. Soap was on him the instant they were both out of the water, quickly unfastening his own jacket and letting it fall at his feet. He made him sit and took his face in his hands, searching for any sign of injury beside the cut that was slowly oozing blood.
“How do you feel? Weird? Any pain or difficulty breathing?”
“I’m fine, Soap, just– Soap!”
But Soap was already running to the car to retrieve the first-aid kit. When he returned, Kyle had already gotten rid of his gear, neatly placed next to Soap's tank and fins that he had picked up from where they were carelessly discarded. He did seem fine, although Soap couldn't help but notice the slight tremor in his hands and how he sat as far away from the waves as he could on the small pier. Hardly a surprising reaction after getting attacked by an unknown creature in dark waters.
As he started to tend to the wound on his forehead, Gaz took his hand and looked him in the eye, his gaze soft but serious. Apparently he had noticed that Soap's hands were shaking as well.
“I'm okay, I promise. You did everything right, Soap. You got us out.”
It was exactly what Soap needed to finally release the deep breath that blocked his chest with anxiety. Steadying his hands, he went back to treating Gaz's wound and neither of them spoke for a while. Why he felt so worried and distressed over a small cut and wildlife incident, he wasn't sure. They’d been through countless life-threatening situations and way more serious injuries in their years of serving together. But what had happened today—
“What the fuck was that?” Gaz suddenly asked, voicing Soap's own thoughts.
“Hell if I know. Did you see it before the light went out?”
Gaz shook his head. “Barely. I thought I saw something move below us and then there was this huge shadow coming out of nowhere, it looked like— I don’t even know. Next thing I know it slammed into me and I was blind.”
Once Soap was satisfied with his work as an improvised nurse, they both got up and started to walk back to the car, continuing to debrief the encounter as they put all the gear in the car, got out of their wetsuits and dressed again.
“After you got hit, that thing lit up like a damn Christmas tree! Well, if Christmas trees were all that creepy bright blue.”
That got Gaz looking even more puzzled. “Some deep-sea creature? Why would it be so close to the surface?”
Soap could only shrug. “Maybe it followed some prey here and got stuck, or maybe it’s wounded.”
“You got anything on your camera?”
“Battery’s dead, I’ll need to check the card when we get back. Hey, maybe we just made a major scientific discovery!” Soap grinned, but he was only half-joking. A glint of curiosity had chased away the lingering worry in his eyes.
It earned a small chuckle from Gaz. “Well in that case, I sure hope you caught it in 4K ‘cause I am not going back in there! I'd rather be alive than be famous for getting eaten by the big abyss tinsel-shark.”
Soap winced at him. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll let you choose the name.”
Kyle lightly punched his shoulder before getting in the passenger seat, Soap insisting to drive on the way back. As he sat behind the wheel and started the car, the mood became serious again.
“Whatever that was,” Gaz said in a quieter tone, “it’s dangerous enough to make the entire spot empty. We need to warn others to avoid coming here for a while.”
Soap hummed in agreement. In the mirror, he glanced at the sea as they were slowly driving away, still shimmering under the sun in blue and golden hues, so seemingly peaceful and far away from the eerie glow in complete darkness that his mind was endlessly going back to.
—----------------—
It was already late at night when Soap settled in his room with his laptop. Gaz had gone to sleep in his own room, on the other side of the small flat they were renting during his week of leave. They had spent their evening with a few friends and fellow divers, mostly discussing their little incident of the afternoon. Their advice to avoid the spot for a while was taken seriously and everyone tried to make their own theory about what they had seen. But soon enough, the conversation had shifted to other topics, their friends’ own sightings and plans to explore different areas in the following days. Soap had barely listened, his thoughts drifting the whole time to what might be waiting for him on the memory card of his camera.
He drummed his fingers on the side of the screen, waiting for the files to load. He knew he should expect the video to mostly be a blur of dark blue shapes and shaky movements, but part of him couldn't help but hope to discover exactly what he had seen, if only to confirm that Gaz and him hadn't gone mad with narcosis down there.
The first few minutes were just what he thought. A deep blue filter over everything, the only colour to remain at this depth, the darker outlines of the rocks and Gaz’s silhouette, with the regular flicker of his flashlight sweeping around as they went further and further, and Soap could feel again the uneasy sensation from earlier settling in his stomach. As soon as the light went off and the picture became completely black, he slowed the video to try and make out any detail he could. He had let go of the camera immediately to go help his friend so the movements were chaotic to say the least, following his speed and panic, every frame a new mess of grey and black pixels. But hopefully…
There. It was faint, and blurry, and shaky, but there was no mistaking the fluorescent blue cloud-like shape right in front of the camera. Soap’s breath caught in his throat. Feelings of relief from the confirmation that he had not imagined it, slight excitement at the discovery and fear of what could have happened washed over him. Still, he couldn’t help the half-nervous half-amazed smile slowly spreading on his lips as he skipped to the next frame, then the next one, until the figure became clearer.
“Fuckin’ creepy…”
It looked huge. As large, if not larger, than he had thought. With the erratic movements of the camera, it was difficult to get a clear shot, the subject going in and out of view and focus. But as Soap zoomed in as much as he could, brows furrowed, he was able to make out more details. The electric blue was almost blinding through the lens, the diffused light drowning most of the picture. But within this eerie glowing aura, he could discern some patterns. Dots, lines and curves, defining the shape of the creature and yet concealing it firmly in the dark, unrecognisable. A ghost. That was the only word on Soap’s mind. And the more he looked at each frame of this only two and a half second segment, the more it reinforced his impression despite all his efforts to think about any other more rational option.
Sure, he was not a marine biologist by any means, and sure, there was still a whole lot to learn about the oceans, especially the deep sea, but Soap was still familiar with most species, at the very least in theory. Bioluminescent patterns would usually originate from a central point and spread along the edges of whatever type of fish, squid or jellyfish. But these, the long lines he could barely discern, running and curving along the body without actually outlining it– Soap couldn’t help but think of those phosphorescent, silly-looking skeletons people used as decorations on Halloween. Only this one was actually terrifying. It still looked like the giant seasnake he remembered seeing at the time, fine rings of neon blue coiling more and more tightly along what Soap could only assume was a tail. The rest of it appeared kind of messy, though, abstract. Like the patterns were definitely supposed to be symmetrical, but something was covering them, haphazardly interrupting lines here and there.
Soap found himself fascinated, his eyes following the shapes to try and make sense of what he was watching, as if squinting and tilting his head to the side would somehow improve the quality of the blurry, dark picture. It didn’t. Some quick adjustments of contrast and brightness, however, did the trick. More or less. Now he could somewhat differentiate between shadows. Could notice where the jagged edges of the cave entrance started and where the lines of the glowing patterns ended. Could tell that part of the creature still remained hidden deeper in the dark and that it was probably even larger than he’d imagined.
Zooming in on the darker parts of the body, he figured out that what was obstructing the patterns was probably a fishing net of some sort. Soap somehow felt his nerves settle a little. No matter how scary, that thing was a trapped, wounded animal. It was no wonder it had attacked on sight, without following them afterwards.
The itch that Soap had been feeling in his brain since the moment they had left the beach was slowly but surely growing more and more difficult to ignore. It might already be too late, but maybe if they could go back… The creature was probably getting weak, unable to hunt and feed in an empty area, stuck in a small rocky den that was sure to become its grave if it couldn’t get itself free. It was likely struggling to breathe as well, with how painfully tight the net looked to be, around at least half of its body, all the way to where the blue lines faded on both sides, to the tips of the fins.
Fins that, now that he could watch very closely, looked awfully like human hands.
Soap flinched and rubbed his tired eyes as adrenaline sent a wave of heat down his spine. But when he looked at the screen again, the picture was still the same. Now he was sure he could even see at least one hand, less entangled in the net, fingers splayed against the rock. They couldn’t have met an actual ghost, right?
His reason was yelling at him that there was no way, that with such low quality and lighting, it could be absolutely anything. That he had been looking at it for so long that his exhausted brain was trying at all cost to make sense of abstract shapes. But there was another voice in the back of his head, getting louder and louder as he tried to pick up more details in the video. Against all his common sense, it soon overpowered the rest with memories of old fishermen’s tales from the little town he grew up in and children’s books he would beg his mum to read to him every night. Stories about enchanting and eerie water creatures they would call ceasg, sometimes guiding sailors on their journeys, sometimes luring them to their death.
Soap sat back against the pillows, letting out a long breath, and found his hands were shaking slightly as he passed them through his hair. He was trying, really trying to see something else, anything else, on the screen, to not let a childhood obsession take over his logical mind. But the more he looked, and the more it somehow made sense. The glowing shapes, the position, the behaviour, the way the net — he was at least sure it was net — was tightly wrapped all around it– around them.
Soap abruptly closed his laptop at the realisation. Let his head fall back and hit the wall behind him, as if the short but sharp pain could knock some sense into him. He brought both hands to his face and covered his eyes. His palms were sweating with nervousness but he couldn’t help a small, exhilarated smile from spreading on his face. Gaz was going to hate him.
He had to go back.
—----------------—
“No way in hell!”
The next morning had come, and Soap had barely been able to sleep. He had thought that when he would open up his laptop to look at the pictures again, his clearer mind wouldn’t see any mythical creature anymore. But nothing had changed.
So as soon as he’d heard the kettle being turned on in the kitchen, he had practically jumped at Gaz with his laptop, almost causing him to drop his empty mug and earning himself a few curses.
Gaz had managed to contain Soap long enough to sit them both down with some coffee before allowing him to show him what he'd found. Soap had been hopeful for a moment, seeing the same mix of amazement and fascination in his friend’s eyes that he had felt the previous night.
“Holy–,” he had said in a whisper. “That’s crazy, mate.”
But when John had started to expose his theory, showing every detail in the video to back up his claim, Gaz became way harder to convince. And it could have remained a friendly debate between a skeptic Kyle and a sleep-deprived, over-imaginative John. Until he’d suggested he needed to go back and see for himself.
“A mermaid, Soap, seriously? I told you, once was enough. I’m not risking my ass again.”
“Well, technically probably not a mermaid, more like a mer– someone. And besides…” Gaz scoffed but Soap ignored it, taking a breath and bracing himself for his friend’s reaction to his next words. “I didn’t say you had to come with me.”
Gaz only raised a questioning eyebrow, probably already suspecting what he was going to say but daring him to go on. Soap held his gaze as he continued but his voice sounded slightly uneasy when he spoke as quickly as possible.
“You have to leave today anyway, I don’t. I can just go on my own, take a second tank–”
“Sorry, not sure I heard that right. On your own?” Gaz’s voice raised slightly. “What’s the first rule in scuba diving again? I think you were the one to teach me, right?”
“I know but–”
“John. First rule.”
Soap winced and stayed silent for a few moments, keeping his eyes on the now cold mug of coffee in his hands. He could count on one hand how many times his best friend had used his first name instead of nicknames or callsigns. Most times it had been when he was about to do something incredibly stupid and dangerous. One time it had been after said incredibly stupid and dangerous thing had happened and almost killed him. And every time he would listen and promise it would never happen again.
Gaz was still waiting, his eyes cold and his lips tight.
“Never dive alone,” Soap finally answered.
“Good.”
And with that, Gaz got up to go pack his things and the conversation was over.
The twenty-minute drive to the train station passed in an awkward silence. Soap spent the whole time looking for something to say to reassure his friend. But he couldn't find anything that wouldn't be a lie.
As they walked through the busy station, Kyle stopped a few feet before reaching the platform and let out a deep sigh.
“Look, just–” he started, and Soap could see the resignation in his eyes. “Don’t go on your own. I think it’s a bad idea either way but at least take someone with you. I bet Jade and Ollie would love to join you in your cryptid hunt.”
Soap’s eyes widened. “You’re not trying to stop me?”
“I know once you get obsessed with something, nothing can make you change your mind. Just promise me you’ll be careful.” Kyle sighed again and a flash of pain passed through his eyes. “I’m not losing my best friend for chasing after an imaginary creature. Almost losing him once was enough.”
Unconsciously, Soap’s hand came up to the side of his head, brushing on the sensitive scar there, where hair wouldn’t grow again. His memory of the events was hazy, he barely remembered what had happened or how. What he did remember were the looks of fear and pain on the faces of his friends and teammates. He wouldn’t put them through this again.
Before he could answer properly, the loud distorted voice of the speakers filled the air, announcing the train’s imminent departure. Gaz sighed again, but a faint smile lightened his face.
“I wish that fucking bullet had at least rewired the fear centre in that little brain of yours.”
“Can’t rewire what’s never been there!”, Soap retorted with a smirk of his own.
Gaz lightly smacked his arm in response, but the tension between them was gone. They quickly hugged, Kyle holding Soap until he repeated that he would be careful and keep him updated, before boarding the train.
Soap watched as it left the station until it was out of view, relieved that his friend had — somewhat and begrudgingly — given him his approval for the stupidly dangerous thing he was about to do.
—----------------—
The weather was roughly the same as yesterday. The sea was quiet, the sky bright, the sun warm. And Soap was alone.
Crouching on the pier, checking his gear for the fourth time and mentally repeating every step of his plan, Soap was about to go against the only condition Gaz had set for this dive. He was going to kill him. John passed a nervous hand on the back of his head. He had meant to ask someone to come with him. But the few other divers he knew in the area already had plans, and he wasn’t too keen on sounding insane by asking strangers to join him on a quest to find a mermaid. Not that he wouldn’t have sounded insane to his friends too, if he’d actually asked. He at least could have waited for them to have some free time in the next few days. The truth was, he didn’t want to. Maybe this creature, if it was real, had put some sort of spell on him as Soap had laid eyes on its shape. Tales and myths rather spoke of sirens’ voices to be hypnotising. But it was this mesmerising fluorescent blue that had been haunting him from the moment he’d seen it. He couldn’t wait, couldn’t think of anything else. He had to go back, had to see it again. And more than that, somewhere within him, he felt he needed to do it alone. Telling himself and anyone that would listen that he only wanted to help a wounded creature felt like an excuse. Maybe he was truly cursed, getting lured to his death by a dangerous monster.
Absent-mindedly, Soap shrugged at the thought. He found that he didn’t really care. Which probably made it all the more concerning. Still, he was going to keep his word about taking as little risk as possible. At least not an uncalculated risk. The largest tank he could get his hands on, he hadn’t been able to get a second one filled on such short notice, thoroughly checked and at full capacity, way enough to last him more than two hours if it ever came to it. A flashlight and a spare one as he remembered all too well how dark it had been yesterday. And his trusted knife in order to cut the net — or defend himself as best as he could. As for making sure he could be found if things went really wrong, he'd left the car a little further up, in the middle of the path, with a flashy orange tarp on the back that would catch anyone's eye. And texts containing his exact location were set to be sent to Gaz and a few other people if he wasn't out of the water within exactly ninety minutes. If everything went well — i.e. if he didn't get torn to pieces and/or devoured by some huge humanoid snake fish —, it shouldn’t even take him half of this time.
As Soap finished zipping his wetsuit all the way up and sat on the edge of the pier, letting his feet sway in the cool water, a smile started to tug at his lips despite the apprehension already weighing on his stomach. He was taking all of this seriously, he really was. But he couldn't help but be excited, in a way he hadn't felt for a while before a dive. For a while in general actually. Preparing his gear, thinking of everything that could go wrong and figuring out the best ways of avoiding it, running – or swimming – headfirst into danger. He'd barely realised how much he’d missed the thrill of it during all these months spent convalescing and overall being bored out of his mind.
The hourly beep of his watch snapped him out of his thoughts and planning. John let his smile fade back into a serious, focused expression. His ninety minutes started now. He carefully set his watch down on the pier, out of the reach of the waves, and replaced it with his computer and compass. He shouldered his jacket and tank, tied every strap, put on his fins, his mask, his gloves. Out of habit, he started to turn to his partner so they could check each other’s gear, before remembering he had to skip this step today. Instead, he used this time to take in the moment and a few steadying breaths through his regulator. Then, he finally answered the call of the deep blue ocean and let himself slide off the pier.
As he slowly sank in the water, his mind immediately cleared to focus entirely on his task and the familiar sensations. The invigorating cold, the soothing pressure on his body, the slight discomfort in his ears that he quickly chased away during his descent. As soon as Soap felt the sand under his knees, he barely took the time to go through his regular checklist. In a few seconds, he tightened his jacket, gave an okay hand signal despite having no one to answer it, and started to swim towards his destination. Following the same path as the day before until reaching the ledge, Soap first noticed the area seemed way more lively. He saw several small schools of fish scattering as he went by, but not alarmed, some crustaceans and flounders foraging in the sand, even a few rays gracefully gliding over the seabed. On a normal dive, he would’ve excitedly taken pictures of every species he could see. But now, he wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or worried. Even looking down the slope from his position felt less dark, less oppressing. Less like he was about to sink into a deadly trap. But then it probably meant that the threat wasn’t there anymore. Either the creature had fled the area… or Soap was too late to save it. In any case, contemplating from the ledge wouldn’t give him any answers. Sticking to his plan, Soap switched his light on and began his descent cautiously.
He had been expecting to need to go deeper than the last time, to search through every crevice and cavity in hopes of finding a wounded creature trying to avoid the light. But he had barely made it to the top parts of the rocky pillars, fifteen metres down, looking from afar for the small cave Gaz had found the day before, when a silver glimmer caught his light between the jagged rocks. And again as he moved his flashlight once more and started approaching as slowly as he could, the first encounter still fresh in his mind and feeling awfully similar.
He saw the tail first. The long serpentine tail, half of it hanging off of the side of a small protrusion of flat stone, ink black scales turning shimmering silver under the beam of Soap’s flashlight. It wasn’t moving, its large translucent fin barely swaying with the current. Soap swam further down and around the uneven stone column until he was able to get a clearer view, and his breath stuck in his throat, almost choking him. He had been right. In front of him, barely more than an arm’s length away, lay the legendary creature he had only heard of in stories. A siren, a mer, a ceasg, or however else they were called, was lying there. And it– he was in a bad shape. Curled in on himself, his undeniably human-looking body was draped in a veil-like fin, as gauzy and thin as his tail. It was torn in several places on his left side, along his arm, where Soap could now clearly see the ropes and fishing net tightly wrapped around his torso, shoulders and arms, painfully digging in the skin. The merman must have tried to flee the area, as Soap had thought, after his encounter with the two divers, or maybe he'd wanted to get some air at the surface, seeing as they were a little higher than the cave they'd found him in. In any case he couldn't go far with the net restricting his movements and getting tangled in the rocks and corals. And he had probably been too weak to rip it off at this point.
But he was still breathing. As Soap came closer, his heart beating louder in his ears and his eyes watching for any movement, he noticed gills on the side of the creature’s face, faintly but still desperately moving to capture the slightest amount of oxygen possible. The merman was still alive, but barely. Laying on his right side like that, his face turned down and almost buried in the sand that John couldn’t get a clear view of, it was as if he had resigned to let himself die here.
There was no more time to waste, Soap softly landed in the sand next to the body, staying at a safe distance and in a position allowing him to check for any sudden move so he could escape if necessary. His brain evaluated the situation in a few milliseconds, easily falling back into his old habits. He took a quick glance at his gauge and computer to know how much time and air he had left, pulled out his knife, and set himself to work.
The first step was to cut out the biggest part of the tangled mess of nylon fibers, the part that was firmly stuck around and between sharp rocks and corals. This way, even if Soap wasn’t able to finish his task, at least the merman would be able to get away. It was also the easiest and least dangerous step. After cutting the last string, he took a deep steadying breath and shifted closer to get to the rest of the net. He was working swiftly and efficiently at first, cutting and unravelling bits after bits of strings and ropes. But as he got closer and closer to the scales and skin, he started to struggle. And was able to see just how much the merman was hurt. Under his flashlight, secured on his shoulder, entire patches of missing scales that should have turned a glistening silver remained dark and dull. Raw, open skin on the wrists, arms and hips that wasn’t even bleeding anymore but couldn’t heal either, not with the net carving deep into the flesh. Soap was surprised that blood still seemed to be reaching his hands with how tightly the merman was trapped. What struck Soap the most however was the impressive amount of actually healed wounds. His body was riddled with scars from head to tail. Some looked like the usual scars that were often seen on sharks and large sea creatures, old cuts and scratches from hunts and fights. Others looked… Soap let out a deep frustrated sigh that blurred his vision with a flurry of bubbles for a second. There was no mistaking the small round scars that he could see on one shoulder, on the stomach and even on the tail. Soap had seen his fair share during his career. Even had quite a few matching ones of his own. Man-made bullets that had pierced the skin, leaving permanent dented marks behind. But the worst of it was probably the large portion of pale, almost translucent distorted skin on his left side. A deep puncture wound between the ribs that could only remind Soap of those huge hooks used to catch whales and sharks. He shook his head, but there was no time to get angry about it right now. He looked once more towards the merman’s face before moving even closer to him when he saw no new sign of consciousness. He needed to actually touch the skin if he wanted to finally cut this bloody net. With a few tries, he managed to catch part of the thin rope and carefully pull to loosen it until he could safely slide his knife under and section it. He repeated the process with the next piece of rope. Catch, pull, cut. Slow and meticulous.
By the fifth or sixth time, Soap’s mind began to wander. He wondered how the skin would feel under his fingers if he took off his glove. With the light being so close now, he could see the slightly iridescent hue of tiny scales, like the inside of a seashell. Beautiful. Would it feel as soft as human skin? Or smooth and slippery like an eel? He couldn’t even tell if there was any heat radiating from the ceasg’s body as he caught yet again a new part of the rope, pulled and cut. He was focused on the task at hand, so focused, and his thoughts so distant that it took him half a second too long to register the sudden change. Barely a movement, a twitch. Surprising enough that Soap froze, holding his breath, instead of moving back. Until lines of bright blue light, almost as bright as his flashlight, appeared under the tips of his fingers and caught his eye, forcing his head to follow. It took a fraction of a second, but felt like watching lightning in slow motion as the light traced the outlines of the hands, arms, abdomen and shoulders. All the way up to the neck and face, finally in plain view for the first time, and sending a chill down Soap’s spine that was enough to make him start to breathe again, erratically.
Irises lit up in the same electric blue as the rest of the bioluminescent patterns adorning his entire face in a shape that reminded Soap of one of these colourful skulls he had seen in Mexico. Mouth open in a snarl that exposed long and thin teeth, slightly curved on the inside and way more numerous than a human’s. Frighteningly sharp too. Soap was unable to move again at the sight, equally mesmerised and terrified. Like a deer in headlights, or rather, a tiny prey in the lure of an anglerfish. He knew what he had to do — steady his breathing, slowly back up, use his knife, fight, get the fuck away and up to the surface. But even his thoughts sounded like static in his ears.
Several agonising seconds passed until Soap noticed, after finally struggling enough to form one coherent thought, that the merman had not moved an inch either since earlier. He was threatening him, sure, and it was efficient, but he didn’t seem about to attack like he had immediately done on their first encounter. As Soap saw the dilated pupils, the weak and shallow breathing, it occurred to him that they were probably both in the same situation. Two creatures from opposite worlds that clashed for the first time, terrified of each other.
It was his responsibility to do something about it. He was the one who had decided to come down there, find him and help him. After a few hitching breaths, Soap managed to regain control over his lungs. He briefly hoped it hadn’t messed up his air consumption too much. Without ever breaking eye contact, he moved his hands slowly, so slowly, until he could hold up the tangled net he had already cut and discarded on the side. Trying to show that he was helping, not hurting. Then his other hand went up to his own face, to take his regulator out of his mouth. Using hand signals or morse code would probably be useless at best, trigger an attack at worst. So he opted for mouthing simple words instead, hoping to get his message across.
You are okay.
Without waiting for a sign that he was understood, Soap lowered his head and went back to his original task: pulling and cutting ropes. To show that he wasn’t scared so the merman shouldn’t be scared either. There was a beat, during which he braced himself for a hit or a bite that he wouldn’t see coming. Then the bright eerie blue light gradually dimmed, until they were both bathed in a soft, almost soothing glow. Soap couldn’t help a short sigh of relief. His hands steadied as he continued to set the merman free. Soon enough, as he progressed slowly but surely, he allowed himself to relax and let his mind entirely focus on his task again, certain that he wasn’t at risk anymore. The merman’s hands and most of his left arm were free already, yet he continued to sit still, letting him help. Soap watched, fascinated, as the blue patterns seemed to dance on the skin, stopping himself at every flinch or flicker of the light telling him he’d been too close or too fast, until it started pulsating again gently. As he moved up the arm, towards the shoulder, to cut the remaining ropes, he noticed in awe how the intensity of the light shifted to follow his every movement, showing him where to go next. Soap smiled, amazed, at the realisation that the merman was trying his best to communicate with him. He couldn’t help lifting his head until he met these electric blue eyes that had been staring at him since earlier, so much closer now. The merman frowned as his lips started to uncover his teeth again, but seemed to stop when he saw Soap’s smile. Instead, they pursed in what Soap could only describe as a pout, and he averted his eyes, blue light glowing brighter to urge him to finish what he was doing. Which only needed a few more minutes before Soap put his knife away and caught the remaining part of the net, finally pulling it off of the merman for good.
Soap had barely moved back to leave him some space that the blue light he had grown to find comforting rather than frightening suddenly disappeared, leaving an empty dark space in the sand where he knelt. Gone just like that, with hardly a trail of thin bubbles for proof. It startled a chuckle out of him, between relief and disbelief. He had been prepared to carry him to the surface or anywhere he would have been able to breathe, thinking he might be too weak. He took a deep breath of his own to settle the nerves he hadn’t really felt until now. And noticed in horror how hard it felt to fill his lungs with air. He quickly looked at his gauge. Shit. He was well within the timeframe he had planned, barely more than thirty minutes had gone by, but his air supply was way lower than it should ever be. Less than a quarter left, the quarter he was always supposed to keep in case of an emergency. And despite the shorter breaths he was taking to save as much of it as possible, it kept visibly decreasing, fast. The reason hit him immediately. There had to be a leak somewhere, something that must have caught on his knife or the sharp rocks that he hadn’t noticed in the low light. In a normal situation, he would have rushed to his partner to borrow their spare regulator until they could resolve the issue or get out of the water. But he was all alone in there, thanks to his own stubbornness and obsession for a legendary creature who had disappeared so quickly he could almost question anything had really happened. He had to get himself out of here, and he had to do it now.
Without wasting a second, he started swimming upwards while checking his gear for the leak. Instinctively, his brain listed one by one each element of the situation. He hadn’t gone deeper than seventeen metres and only for thirty-three minutes, just as he had planned, which was the good news. That meant he wouldn’t need a decompression stop during his ascent which, given his air supply, would waste crucial minutes and be a sure way of drowning. Ideally, he would still do a safety stop of three minutes at the five-metre mark, but he could skip it entirely if he had to. Which led to the bad news: he had finally found the leak, a small hole in the hose at the base of his spare regulator letting precious bubbles escape into the water, but too late. His gauge was at its lowest point, and with great effort, Soap drew what was probably the last half lungful of air from the tank. Now he had to make it last to the surface. Skip the safety stop. Ascend quickly but still slow enough that his body would evacuate the nitrogen from his blood. Gradually exhale as he went up to avoid his lungs literally bursting from the change in pressure. There was something terribly counterintuitive to the fact of having to let the vital gas out of your mouth and to swim as calmly as possible when your body was screaming at you to get the hell out of the water fast. But Soap ignored those instincts, ignored the thoughts that were trying to distract him — should’ve waited for this spare tank, shouldn’t have gone alone, what was Gaz going to say. He kept going, calculating while he felt his lungs emptying, already urging him to breathe in some oxygen that simply wasn’t there. The ascent should take no more than three minutes total. His personal best in freediving was seven minutes and thirty-four seconds exactly. But that was with his lungs full and in non-life threatening conditions. His throat and chest were already burning not two minutes in. His legs felt weak, and the sunlight he could see above his head only seemed to get further and further away from him. He shouldn’t have gone alone. His vision started to blur, grey static rapidly filling the deep blue. He managed to give one last desperate kick of his legs, too weak to get him anywhere further, before everything went dark. Gaz was going to hate him.
Soap suddenly took a breath, so deep that it almost felt too large for his chest. The bright sunlight blinded him and the wind was cool on his cheeks. He scrambled to take his mask off, eager to feel warmth on his face, to be able to breathe fully. He exhaled, coughing and spitting the saltwater he had swallowed in his near-drowning experience. He feared that he would sink again, his gear feeling so heavy and his body so exhausted, but he was held firmly. When he could finally open his eyes, he was greeted by the familiar view of the endless ocean, sparkling in gold and blue, and by the less familiar sight of iridescent scales, marked with bloody lines and pale scars. Soap turned his head so quickly it made him feel nauseous, to find the merman’s face, inches away from his. He had come back for him. He was still looking away from him, holding Soap against his side with one arm while swimming so fast that the beach was already in view and getting closer and closer. Even if he had made it to the surface, Soap understood he would never have been able to reach the pier back on his own. He had been doomed from the start. He let himself get carried, releasing the death grip he hadn’t realised he had on the merman’s arm, whose face seemed to relax slightly at that. He looked so different without the skeleton-like lines of neon blue light blurring his features. His skin was ten times more gorgeous under the sun than under Soap’s flashlight, scales shining in pearlescent hues and dark silver where they met the tail and fins. His eyes weren’t naturally fluorescent blue, but rather a warm brown, almost golden. There were more scars on his face that he hadn’t seen earlier, on his jaw, his nose, even cutting through his upper lip. A thousand thoughts went through Soap’s mind as they were approaching the beach. Sorry, thank you, are you okay, does it hurt– But only one, probably the stupidest one, managed to pass the barrier of his still underoxygenated brain.
“You’re beautiful.”
It at least had the effect of making the merman finally acknowledge him. Soap managed to see the flicker of surprise and confusion in these pretty eyes, before a frown quickly replaced it. They had made it to shallow water and, with a yelp, Soap was unceremoniously pushed up on the beach, his metal tank scraping against sand and pebbles. The merman allowed him one last look and Soap heard him speak for the first time, in a deep rumbling voice:
“Don’t come back.”
Then, as he had earlier, he left him, quickly diving in the water and swimming away, a black and silver arrow in the deep blue water. Soap swiftly unfastened his jacket, yanked on his gloves and kicked off his fins, taking in the feeling of the warm wet sand, crumbly yet so steadying under his exhausted body. He let himself enjoy the warmth of the sun for a few minutes, conscious that he had just escaped the worst… and seen the most incredible thing. He smiled in relief and excitement, unsure he would be able to follow the merman’s order.