The Dorley Cycle XXIII


First segment

It’s only a siren’s song baby

 Part I ; Part II ; Part III ; Part IV


Second segment:

Hey there Mr. Cthulhu

Part V ;  Part VI ; Part VII ; Part VIII ; Part IX ; Part X ;

Third segment:

Got some toxic truth?

Part XIPart XIIPart XIII

Fourth segment:

Squid Kings and Greek Fires

Part XIV ; Part XV ; Part XVI ; Part XVII ; Part XVIII ; Part XIX ; Part XX ; Part XXI ; Part XXII

AND FOR A LITTLE COMIC STYLE TREAT: Homecoming & Hey There Mr. Cthulhu




He prayed, perhaps for the first time in his life, calling to God, then swearing scared, and his hands came to rest on my shoulders and to lift my head as I coughed out in tearing spasms the salty water that clogged my system. My eyes stung but I blinked the hurt away until I could look and see him bent over me, his lips blue and his teeth chattering. He wiped his leaking nose with a shaking hand and swallowed down hard.

The world was still dim, but the sounds were hushed, and as it tumbled, rolled and fought to find stance, like a picture frame OCD tilted and fucking up the view, the sound was still too soft.

Eli squeezed hard and my thoughts shifted back to him; I couldn’t understand why he did that.  His eyes were wide and their white was red and I couldn’t tell why. But then my painful inhales for air became sharper and bigger and the weakness showed itself when I tried to move my body, and I remembered fragments.

Eli had grabbed me, there in the depth and pulled me back up. I had felt his hand clutch mine, and then an arm embrace my body.

“I thought you were gone.”

I groaned and lifted myself on elbows, shaking my head. I spat some more wanting to forget the taste in my mouth, that seaweed stench stuck between the cracks of my teeth.

Eli helped me up to a sitting position. I was sat on one of those few rocky islands patched together to form a drunkard’s path across the sea’s throat. The sea bed was spiked with sharp rocks here and there. Not a jumping spot for them tourists I thought.

Above our heads merciless waves crashed with a clatter, but the peaking hat of the rock formation banned them for swiping us off our small land.

“We have to get out of here, before it comes out again.”

I wondered if we stayed who will drag our bones away and whether the sun would warm up the rocks and then dry our bones to dust. It wasn’t for me to say whether to stay or run; that had already been decided and it was fine by me. Just fine.

“Not now Eli. Just a little bit longer. Gotta stay here a little bit longer kid.”

He took a long glance at me, weighting down chances and life and what was worth all of this, but then he nodded and cast his gaze to the uneven surface of the sea. I did the same, thankful for his presence and trust here and still in my own darkness, searching for Guy’s moving shadow.

He broke surface close to us, and my eyes skipped along the curling whites of the waves,  adjusting to his camouflage in the deep green waters. Guy split waves open to swim to the shallower waters where we, castaways were stranded. He pulled the shipwreck with his thick tentacles, dragging a ghost boat back to life, to glide on top of the monsters.

I stood up steadied myself, leaning against Eli.

I didn’t have a plan and Guy knew it. I barely had my life, and he knew that too.

I waited to see what he’d do, what he’ll say and soon regret it. Guy hovered the wreck above his body. His tentacles snapped back, creating a giant slingshot, and he hurled the wreck at us.  It spun and slammed sideways against the rocks above us. Eli shoved me aside and fell on top of me just as the ship fell backwards with a protesting groan, dragging along rain of pebbles and small boulders. The metal body fell down inches from where we were and tilted sideways lying back down into the water with a splash, a rusty skeleton peaking from the shallow.

Eli gasped and his weight was lifted from me. One of the ill brownish tentacles of Guy was curling itself around his ankle. His fingers fumbled on the slimy skin and the large suckers opened and closed around his hands, little breathing mouths with tiny rows upon rows of sharp teeth leaving bleeding marks. I grabbed hold of it as it pulled Eli towards the water and wrestled it, stomping with feet the wiggling body of it fighting against me, but a second one whipped from below and slapped me across the face. I dropped down and rolled on my back to see the tentacle tight around Eli’s ankle. It flung him upwards and I reached to catch him, but wet fingers failed to grasp mine stained and swollen and Eli disappeared through the dust cloud still closed around me. My world became faint as I picked myself up.

Chapter XXIV 

11 thoughts on “The Dorley Cycle XXIII

  1. Oh my, but Jackson’s position hasn’t changed for the better since the last episode, neither has Eli’s. If I was gonna place a bet just now I think it would be on Guy winning the fight-off.

    Like Marc, I too loved that descriptive paragraph about the drunkard’s path.

  2. It seems Jackson’s fortune hasn’t changed for the better since the last episode, neither has Eli’s for that matter. If I was a betting man I’d be putting my money on Guy winning the fight-off just now.

    Like Marc, I too love the paragraph about the drunkard’s path.

  3. oh holy mother of god this is dire, emphatically hopeless-seeming! can they not get a break to maybe find something, like from the ghost ship, to put a deadly hurt on the gruesome Frankenstein squid? Oh anything, Cindy, supreme goddess of the almighty pen, save them!!!

    • Harharhar, I supreme goddess of the almighty pen say Nay, no break for them boys, no toys, no guns. Just Mother Nature perhaps and some good messed up luck (I’ll pop a disaster aspect).
      Thank you oh Master keeper of the sacred quill and beholder of imagination for your comment!

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