Oct. 31st, 2016

sealie: made for me by tardis80 (seal_two)
Rating: PG
Warning: horror
Comments: British English spelling
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: writing for fun not for profit
Notes: beta’d by the wonderful springwoof.

Happy birthday to springwood. Happy birthday to dear springwoof.


The sea; the depths.
The fear.


The old sailors tell stories. They speak of the depths where the unknown hands lie. Steve has his own stories. The unknown and knowing depths of a shark’s dead eye in dark waters best not spoken of. The shark swims past him, rough skin scraping against Steve’s torso as he hangs in the water waiting for death.

His stories are not as terrifying as the old sailors’: the knocking on the outside of a claustrophobic submarine at two thousand metres, and the voices, always voices, sibilant in the depths.

All the sailors -- the old ones -- have stories. The young sailors are dead.

             ~*~



The sea; the depths. )

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