Drowning
I couldn't think of a clever title. I wrote this over a series of months for a friend whom very much wanted to indulge in something darker. This is not everyone's cup of tea. There is no happy ending. There is no romance. There is no sex.
Dawn.
Dawn was a special time for York.
He looked forward to seeing the glow of sunrise creep over the horizon and stain the waves with light. He went to sleep early on weekends so he could greet the day with a swim out past the foam and crashing breakers. With lazy kicks of his feet, he would imagine he was alone in the world, watching the swelling crests of the ocean become golden and red diamonds as sunlight caught the water.
The glowing tendril of light seemed to point right towards him as the golden disc of the sun peeked past the glowing edge of the world and brought forth the new day. Swimming further out he'd lose himself in his communion with the ocean and feel closer to that great deep blackness that called to him every time he glanced out his bedroom window.
Eventually, he floated back towards the shore, his mind wandering and finally clearing as the tide nudged him back towards land.
The dolphin would imagine himself being born again, his inky hair laying in great tendrils over his shoulders, shedding the waters, shedding his old skin and he'd breathe in new air and find himself refreshed and ready to face another day.
The young dolphin stirred beneath his heavy covers, his pillow muffling a sleepy sigh. Rolling over from his belly, a foot emerged from the bottom of the tangled covers. Then an ankle and calf as the young man tested the air. He quickly pulled his leg back beneath the covers and groaned. Tempted as he was to escape the cool morning air, he had a routine to follow: wake, dress, ocean. Wake, dress, ocean.
"Wake, dress, ocean," he mumbled to himself. Taking a deep breath the dolphin sat up, letting the covers fall from his face and chest and pool at his waist as he sat and stretched deeply. He groaned as he lifted his arms high above his head and twisted this way and that.
As he stretched the sleepy fog from his body he found himself smiling. It was time for his morning swim and it was the best thing in the world. Slipping from the warm nest of blankets fully the dolphin quickly shuffled to his dresser and grabbed the swimsuit that was sitting atop it where he put it last night. He stepped into it with an awkward hop, wiggling his hips as the swimwear slid up his legs and were tied snug around his waist. A quick look in his mirror showed a dolphin, cerulean blue with a belly of cream, inky black hair and matching swim trunks snug to his hips and legs. The dolphin waved at the mirror, and it waved back to him.
"Hi York," he giggled, flailing his hand at his double in the mirror. Bright eyes, a shade of reddish brown, shined back at him. "Are you as excited as I am to go swimming?" He laughed, shaking the last bits of sleep from his mind and wandered out of his bedroom.
A short hallway connected his bedroom with a kitchenette and living room. Various posters were hung up on one wall, mostly depicting people surfing. A longboard was artfully hung up along the opposite wall of the living room, old beyond his age, with redwood and teak inlays and a still glossy finish.
He briefly pondered taking his heirloom out with him today but decided a long swim out past the breakers and into the bay would be nicer. The dolphin wandered about the room, stopping to fluff the pillow on his chair and clicking off a forgotten reading lamp before looking out the window towards his front yard.
Not much of a yard really, it opened out to a beach where he spent many hours exploring, surfing and swimming. There was a thin strip of grass and a groomed dirt walkway just in front of his front step, which was enough of a yard for him.
York opened his door and was greeted with a cool gust of wind, smelling of salt and sand. He grinned, breathing deeply as he stepped outside and clicked the door shut. Locking it with a key before tucking it back beneath a plant pot, the dolphin wandered towards the sand.
He paused at the threshold of his yard and the beach. With his heels on the grass and toes on the sand, he curled his feet until his toes disappeared beneath the cool, fine sand. Wriggling his toes happily he grinned to the ocean and spread his arms above his head, stretching all over again before pushing off into a run across the beach.
The dolphin's feet sank deeply into the dry sand, the surface still slightly warm from the previous day's sun. His feet dug into the cooler sand beneath that, and York enjoyed the sensation as he pushed himself harder to get to the ocean. It was about 100 yards give or take before the morning tide caught up with the beach, and the last stretch of firmer wet sand turned the dolphin's ambling jog into a proper sprint, the dolphin's feet making wet plaps in the ocean saturated sand. It squished between his toes as they dug into it, pushing off with each step before meeting the ground again a moment later.
He ended his run with an athletic leap, stretching out his arms and legs, diving into the water just as a wave crested and began to crash onto the shore. Sand and kelp brushed his chest as the familiar shock of the cold water washed over him. He pushed off the seafloor with a hand and hauled himself up, standing almost waist deep in water. Shaking his head to clear his hair from his eyes, the dolphin whooped and waited for the next breaker to come close. Only a moment later he dove back under the water, swimming under the curling face of the next wave and kicking with his legs, using his hands to brush stray hanging kelp from his path as he swam further out from shore.
York stayed underwater for almost a minute before surfacing. He took a quick breath to clear the stale air from his lungs and rolled onto his back, eyes gazing up at the sky as it began to melt from black to indigo towards the horizon. The stars were almost invisible already except for a small corner of the sky to the west. He kicked his legs lazily now, steering on his back with sweeps of his arms to keep pointed the right direction to the water rolling beneath him. The dolphin had swum these waters many, many times before. He knew where the kelp forests hung in the bay, where the jellyfish schools tended to swarm, where the occasional shark could be found. He followed migrating whales one year. Hoped they'd be back this winter, too.
Right now none of that really mattered. He was alone with nothing but the sound of the breeze pulling against the tide and the constant roar of the ocean beating surf and foam against the sands towards his feet. York closed his eyes and sighed deeply, an indulgent smile crossing his muzzle as he soaked in the sensations of oneness with the sea.
He floated further out into the ocean, his legs pushing him a bit more with each lazy sweep of them. The sky was just beginning to turn amber towards the east, the dark waters picking up little golden highlights as the sun began to rise.
A tendril of kelp brushed against York's leg, the dolphin lazily kicked it away before he did one backstroke, then another. The beach and his house a far-off hazy blur in the steadily growing morning light.
York rolled back over and turned backstrokes into breaststrokes. Dipping his head into the water and kicking out with his legs. The kelp was thick where he was, he wanted to get out further, past the kelp forests and into the deeper waters where the beach shelf gives way to the open ocean. He felt it after a few more moments. The change in current against his skin, the drop in water temperature. Freedom. He stopped swimming and floated upright, slowing turning around and around. Looking at the great expanse of infinite looking water, then back to the far off beach that was just a smudge of light tan against the darker cliffs that boxed it in.
This far out the surf couldn't be heard. It was silent except for the sound of the breeze and the lapping of water against his shoulders. Tranquil and relaxing. He felt the last bits of stress and anxiety melt away as he closed his eyes again and sighed happily.
He felt kelp brush against his ankle again. Odd. York peered down into the water just as that piece of kelp wrapped around his slim leg. He kicked, trying to dislodge it. In the dark water he couldn't really see more than a few inches deep, but it didn't matter. Kelp was kelp.
This kelp didn't dislodge however. It even wound further up his ankle, encircling it again with its slimy, alien feel. York kicked again, and then rubbed at it with his other foot, feeling the kelp shift against his toes before squeezing his leg.
"W-what is this?" He asked the ocean. Keeping himself afloat with his arms and breath, the dolphin rubbed more insistently at the kelp with his free foot. To no avail, he couldn't get much leverage against it and also keep afloat. Before he could try and swim away, he felt another bit of kelp brush over his other leg, then coil around his foot.
A wash of heat traveled up York's spine, leaving him with a growing sense of dread. This wasn't kelp. He needed to get away. Right now. The dolphin leaned forward and paddled with his arms, trying to scissor his legs. Trying harder as whatever was wrapped around his legs snuggled tighter, making movement difficult. York tried to keep calm. His arms still were free and he was a strong swimmer. Swim for shore. Swim for shore, get the... whatever it was off his legs and then take a hot bath. Swim. Swim York.
The dolphin kept paddling, so far out from shore he couldn't tell if he was closing in or not. The.. things.. around his legs slithered, rubbing calfs and feet alike while staying firmly coiled over his ankles. Anxiety made his belly feel leaden, but he kept moving his arms, kept breathing. Eyes focused on the shore and safety.
Moments passed and he felt he was beginning to make progress, the sun was up now. Bathing the ocean in a brighter glow, turning the midnight waters to azure. He couldn't pay attention to that now, he had to focus. His next stroke was met with resistance, as another piece of kelp grabbed his wrist and held it, just underwater. He looked at it, the lead of anxiety in his belly melting into the hot lava of fear as he saw a tentacle curling around his wrist. Monochrome flesh coiled around his wrist again, before slithering up his forearm, pulling his head under water even as his last free limb faltered. The strong, sure strokes turning to frantic slaps against the water as he struggled to keep upright. He managed to get his head above water to take one deep, deep breath before deciding to fight the thing holding him. He could pry himself free, he had to. He yanked at the tentacle at his wrist. His fingers slid right over the surprisingly strong flesh, not even getting purchase against it for a moment. Panic set in then. He frantically pulled at the tentacle, even as he felt another coil around his thigh, probing at the cloth hem of his swim trunks. Another tentacle wrapped curiously around his hips, the narrow appendage tapering to a thick, firm swath of cold muscle as it squeezed around him like a familiar lover.
York tried to stay calm. He knew he had minutes underwater because of his species. Each movement cost oxygen and strength but he had to get free. The octopus, he guessed, was curious. Maybe it would let him go. It certainly wasn't trying to eat him. Each of the dolphin's movements were shrugged off by the impossibly strong cephalopod however. Another tentacle tugged at his shoulders, coiling around his neck. That did it. York screamed, his voice bubbling out of his mouth as he emptied his lungs in a panic induced shout. His struggles grew more frenzied. He bicycled his legs, twisted his torso and squirmed, trying to get away from the overly curious creature. Its appendages slithered over him, finding their way beneath his swim trunks to his bare thighs, coiling around his neck and forcing his head up. He was ten, twenty feet underwater already. The available light dimming already to a dark haze high above. The appendages over his ankles shifted to his feet, rolling and sliding against them as he kicked, attracted to their movements. The pressure in his chest was growing, the urge to breathe so strong. York begged his body to relax, to hold out until the octopus sated its curiosity. He let himself go limp, eyes peeled to the surface of the water even as it drew further away. The tentacles wandered, sliding against his flesh and holding him tight. It grew darker still, and York realized with a detached horror as he realized his vision was tunneling. He only had moments before he fell unconscious. His lungs rebelled, diaphragm spasming in panic to breathe. He held his jaws as tightly closed as possible but he couldn't keep from taking a huge panic breath. His lungs pulled in seawater, burning and cold at the same time as water filled places only air belonged. Past the point of panic, the dolphins eyes wide and straining at the light, his brain finally shut down, his last images that of the light of the last dawn he observed fading into blackness.
The octopus felt the curious thing go limp in its appendages. The warmth of the creature in his tentacles was still attractive and new, so it curled and slithered against it for another hour before it got bored and finally let go.
The currents pulled the dolphin's body down, then. Eventually, closer to shore. Slipping through the kelp forest with no creatures to bother it, York's body eventually caught the tides hours later and was pulled back up onto the beach shelf, where the late evening waves brought him back onto the beach. The silvery light of the rising moon traced the dolphins water logged curves as it bobbed gently against the breaking waves.