Finding the Kraken

Ugh, it’s been too long since I wrote anything. Pesky life and how it gets in the way of things. Oh well. I think maybe I’ve gotten a few things rearranged where I hopefully can be back a little more consistently. For tonight, I’ve got a little piece inspired by the #SwiftFicFriday prompt over at Fiction Trials with Kat Avila. Here’s your warning, it’s a bit dark, not that this will likely surprise you. Anyway, this week we had the word jettison and our usual 150-300 words. Don’t forget to stop by over at Fiction Trials to check out other responses! Without further ado, here’s my response.

Finding the Kraken

“Paul, please dim the lights so we can see who’s home. I’m still hoping to find evidence of this mythical kraken the fishermen say live here before we leave tomorrow.”

The submersible’s pilot glanced at the doctor, color having long since washed out of everything from lack of light. “We have ten more minutes before we must resurface.”

Paul pressed several buttons and the vehicle’s lights flicked out. Utter darkness enveloped everything. Weird trails of light crossed Dr. Rhodes’s eyes, though he knew they were simply his brain working to fill in the complete absence of stimulus.

Dr. Rhodes counted to five in silence. “Let’s have the lights on.”

He heard Paul sigh. A moment later, the lights flashed on. At first, the sudden flare blinded both men, but as his vision cleared, Dr. Rhodes saw something that stopped his heart.

Dr. Rhodes screamed, his hands flailing in vain attempts at action. “Jettison the ballast!”

Paul sat frozen as Dr. Rhodes shoved the pilot’s shoulder. A mass of tentacles roiled toward the clear plastic bubble at the front of the submersible. They were larger than a grown man. Dr. Rhodes couldn’t guess at their length as they twisted and roiled, reaching for the submarine.

Dr. Rhodes hit at Paul again. Paul responded, but nowhere near fast enough. He jabbed at buttons and the small craft bucked, then rose. Several massive tentacles shot out, wrapping themselves around the craft as suckers the size of dinner plates gripped them tight. The creaks became a shrieking descant to the screams of the men inside. A moment later, the lights disappeared.