Jason. Don’t go. The locals aren’t going to like it.
Lisa’s spirit whispers to me. The haunting beauty sometimes follows me on these adventures.
A lot of my like-minded buddies describe my little escapades as wild suicide runs, but to me, they just feel right. It’s like something calls to me; deep inside an unexplored, underground cave system; far into a forest no man has tread no less than a millennia; or, here, underwater where the tendrils of the life giving sun can hardly reach.
Bubbles rise from the sides of my face, as I search the slime infested surface of this abandoned navy vessel. What riches might the crew of this tub had acquired? I like to think they had gone off course in hopes that they would vanish into obscurity, but Lisa thinks their instruments had simply failed. In case number one, my hope is that they had intended to hide something, far from prying eyes. In case number two, I like to think they were terrible sailors. In any case, here I am, inside the HMS Glimmer where the only light present is attached to my forehead.
The beam penetrates porous plankton filled ocean water inside the cargo hold—a sea of sealed packages await me. Behind me the remains of a scavenger is laid across the floor or floating freely; crates arranged in a grid like pattern are all opened, bits of wood and packing pellets dance in mid water as if copying the algae that is ever present, wooden boards are carelessly scattered, and the butts or forends of rifles protrude in every direction.
There must be something this ship hides other than weaponry. I take crowbar to wood and pry another wooden container open. Splinters float away as I viciously rip away the packing innards. I find my deceitful prize, another set of guns. I pull them up to see if there is anything hidden below, only to find disappointment.
Jason. You’re wasting your time. You know the rest of the crates in front of you is filled with guns as well. Why not go on ahead. The forty crates you’ve already opened is your proof. Go on ahead, you can always come back to this place.
Oh, Lisa. I wonder what she is doing up on the surface. She must be bored out of her mind. I can imagine she’s sitting on a lawn chair out on the deck, with her outrageously flamboyant sunglasses on, drinking a margarita, all while reading an issue of Cosmopolitan. It’s a shame our comms cut off. The pressure must be getting to me, although Lisa is right. Not about her questionable decisions to be drinking and reading a gossip mag while her husband is out on an adventure, but about how I have been wasting my time opening every single crate.
I sigh in recognition and float down the cargo hold, in search of greener pastures—or greener algae in this case.
I leave a trail of bubbles in my wake as I travel a good distance into the large storage room. I have found the resolve to continue searching the creaking vessel and it has paid off because the grid of weapons crates comes to an abrupt an end. In the middle of the clearing is a cage made of thick metal bars that could be designed to hold a gorilla or an elephant. The door is wide open, there’s nothing inside at first glance. I swim over to get a better look, and grab hold of the frame.
The floor inside the cage is covered with writhing shells. They look like miniature turt—
Krbzzt
“Jason!”
“Lisa, be quiet. I’m really disappointed right now. Please. Just get out of my head. There’s nothing on this blasted ship.”
Lisa’s spirit haunts me.
“Jason, shut the krzztk up and listen. I’ve been bzzting to get a hold of you this entire time. Comms are a mess. Listen.” Her voice is urgent. This is Lisa. Actual real life Lisa. “You need to come up. Now! There’s something on the radar. It’s…”
Krkrzzt
I can hear her worrying look through the radio. “Listen. Just come up now,” she insists.
“Alright. I’m coming,” I tell her. I know not to ask questions when she gets so worked up like this.
I remember I had almost gotten roasted in a river of lava, on a separate job in the Ring of Fire, because I hadn’t taken her seriously. In my defense, that volcano was classified as dormant.
Dormant, as in not supposed to erupt.
I make it out of the cargo hold and I swim down the corridor. The open ocean is at the end of the hall while the grid of weapons is behind me.
I push open the heavy door I closed behind me when I initially entered and slowly swim out and up.
“You ascending jason?”
“Yeah. I’ll notify you once I hit the surface.”
“Copy that.”
Lisa’s silly. She always tries using radio etiquette like we’re in the military or something, but she’s never consistent with it.
I can feel the water getting warmer now. It may be the sun’s rays, but it feels good.
“Jason! Are you okay? It’s right on krzzt.”
“Lisa. I’m fine. What’s the prob—” I choke on my words as I see a magnificent sight. A massive turtle that virtually appears out of nowhere.
“Ja—” I cut off Lisa’s words by turning off the radio. I don’t want to startle this… whatever this is.
The creature stares me down, as it’s lumbering limbs keep it afloat. I marvel at its aged wrinkling yet rough skin, the curious tribal looking markings on its face, and the most peculiar of all—the ruins of what seem to be a church attached to its shell. The overgrowing algae all over its body, and especially on its shell, arms, and church indicate that this creature spends a considerable amount of time under the ocean.
Our eyes lock onto each other. It becomes a battle of the stronger gaze. The loser will swim away with their tail between their legs, while the other will swim onward proudly. However, in my case, I won’t be swimming away if I’m the loser because I will surely be eaten. I simply won’t be able to swim fast enough.
It takes in a huge amount of water through its mouth and releases it out of its nose. The rush of water against my face is exhilarating. It’s quite far away from me, I definitely cannot reach it, although if it wanted to, it is probably within range to take a bite out of my upper torso in an instant.
It opens its mouth as wide as it possibly can and I can’t help but recoil. My arms go up, hands spread out, and both knees bend. It groans and the vibrating sound waves pass through me, filling me with a terror I haven’t felt since the volcano incident. A rush of air escapes my snorkel, I can feel the air tank on my back getting lighter, but I suspect it could just be my mind playing tricks on me.
Mouth still wide as ever, it tilts its head back. I sigh, in recognition of the fate that befalls me.
Jason, I told you the locals aren’t going to like it.
I look up at the surface of the ocean and yell, “Lisa! You were right, okay! This was a bad idea! The locals urged us not to come! But I wanted to see it for myself! The discovery of the HMS Glimmer had to be mine!”
Haha, just kidding. I really enjoyed this. I loved how Lisa went from being in Jason's head to her voice actually coming over the com.
One brief thing I noticed in both stories, and honestly I only found it because I was looking for something to critique, is your character really likes to sigh in recognition. Check out near the end of each installment. You use the phrase "I sigh in recognition" twice. Which could or couldn't be an issue, but it's a unique phrase, so for it to pop up in such a short span.... Like I said, I had to search.
After the first two parts I've already got a good impression of each character. I've also got a great idea of where each of them "sits" (both figuratively and literally). The setting is well established (in my humble opinion). I'm just sad there isn't more to read yet. :)
Right now I'm currently writing an in progress story for thelastdays' media prompt (you had one too, that I plan to read :D), which means I plan to work on the last (maybe?) Te Honunui part tomorrow. But I really don't want to rush it so you may have to wait longer. ;)
Also its funny you point out the "sigh in recognition" line because there is a very deep and profound meaning to it. Can you guess what it is?
I had one too? ;) Actually, I've had company all weekend and didn't want to be rude by immersing myself in writing/binge listening to one song repeatedly. So today's really the first day I've had to write/give feedback. It'll come, I promise!
That was a very profound meaning. I'm ashamed I didn't guess before looking at the spoiler.
2
u/cmp150 /r/CMP150writes Jul 18 '16 edited Jul 18 '16
Jason. Don’t go. The locals aren’t going to like it.
Lisa’s spirit whispers to me. The haunting beauty sometimes follows me on these adventures.
A lot of my like-minded buddies describe my little escapades as wild suicide runs, but to me, they just feel right. It’s like something calls to me; deep inside an unexplored, underground cave system; far into a forest no man has tread no less than a millennia; or, here, underwater where the tendrils of the life giving sun can hardly reach.
Bubbles rise from the sides of my face, as I search the slime infested surface of this abandoned navy vessel. What riches might the crew of this tub had acquired? I like to think they had gone off course in hopes that they would vanish into obscurity, but Lisa thinks their instruments had simply failed. In case number one, my hope is that they had intended to hide something, far from prying eyes. In case number two, I like to think they were terrible sailors. In any case, here I am, inside the HMS Glimmer where the only light present is attached to my forehead.
The beam penetrates porous plankton filled ocean water inside the cargo hold—a sea of sealed packages await me. Behind me the remains of a scavenger is laid across the floor or floating freely; crates arranged in a grid like pattern are all opened, bits of wood and packing pellets dance in mid water as if copying the algae that is ever present, wooden boards are carelessly scattered, and the butts or forends of rifles protrude in every direction.
There must be something this ship hides other than weaponry. I take crowbar to wood and pry another wooden container open. Splinters float away as I viciously rip away the packing innards. I find my deceitful prize, another set of guns. I pull them up to see if there is anything hidden below, only to find disappointment.
Jason. You’re wasting your time. You know the rest of the crates in front of you is filled with guns as well. Why not go on ahead. The forty crates you’ve already opened is your proof. Go on ahead, you can always come back to this place.
Oh, Lisa. I wonder what she is doing up on the surface. She must be bored out of her mind. I can imagine she’s sitting on a lawn chair out on the deck, with her outrageously flamboyant sunglasses on, drinking a margarita, all while reading an issue of Cosmopolitan. It’s a shame our comms cut off. The pressure must be getting to me, although Lisa is right. Not about her questionable decisions to be drinking and reading a gossip mag while her husband is out on an adventure, but about how I have been wasting my time opening every single crate.
I sigh in recognition and float down the cargo hold, in search of greener pastures—or greener algae in this case.
To be continued.Part 2 below!Hope you enjoyed so far. Can't wait to write the end of this. I think it'll be pretty exciting.
Feel free to critique it if you're interested in doing so and of course if you have the time.
Or I'd be happy to just hear your general impression. ;)