BLOOD OF THE SPRINGTIDE (PART V)

Its enormous form blocked the tunnel a few yards down, the light from the room barely illuminating its appearance. A robust plumage constructed of an assortment of contrasting feathers patched with straw and mud crowned its mammoth shape. Long, matted blonde hair sprouted from under its headdress and framed its irregularly shaped head. The left side of which was wrapped with a stitched piece of tan cloth; a large ocular lens fastened into it over the left eye. The rest of its face was obscured from David by shadow and aversion. Large black robes (embroidered with unidentifiable language and delineations stitched in a strand of an inconceivably darker color) flowed about its massive physique. It breathed heavily in raspy tones and raised its arms up, reaching out with torn, ragged gloved hands. David backed away hurriedly, opening his mouth in an attempt to shout, to warn his friends, but found he could only make high pitched squeaking noises. All his air escaped him, he couldn’t breathe and he began flailing wildly in the water until he forcefully backed into Tim.

“What the hell, David?!?” An annoyed Tim turned quickly, eyes fixated on his friend. “If you want to go ho…holy shit!” He took hold of David, who was having trouble keeping himself upright, and pulled him around through the water so that he was behind him. “Let’s get out of here guys!”

“What?” Rafael took a look over his shoulder and instantly beheld the array of colorful feathers atop the deep stygian darkness sliding from the tunnel and into the pool. It moved smoothly, preposterously slithering over the concrete and through the water. Rafael turned his head away, back toward Aaron, and placed his hand firmly into the middle of his back. “Don’t look back, just hurry toward the tunnel, fast!”

Aaron didn’t need to look, he could feel the fear engulf the room and he dove into the water and swam swiftly in the direction of the far right tunnel, Rafael trailing closely behind. David was trying to run through the water toward the middle tunnel, all sense having left him. He was in a state of extreme panic, and he splashed about in an attempt to row himself along faster. His chest heaved with heavy breaths that broke into sobs every other moment, his eyes watery, tears staining his face. Tim swooshed around in the water to follow his friend, and just before his eyes left the sight of that horrifying thing he noticed that it had submerged half as much more of its height under the water, its robes sinking with its form instead of billowing about. Of course this was implausible; the water just wasn’t that deep. As he faced the back of David he saw that Rafael and Aaron had reached the right tunnel and were scurrying up its passage, out of sight. David was having a hard time moving through the water and Tim could tell that all was not right with his friend. He moved to his side, grabbed him about his shoulders and began to pull him toward the tunnel opening. David had begun sobbing uncontrollably and was having a hard time finding his breath. Just as they reached the concrete flooring of the tunnel, Tim looked behind him, relieved for a moment to see that the figure had vanished. He readily surmised that it had either completely submerged beneath the water, or it had turned and went back down the tunnel. None the less he was taking no chances and, helping David gain his footing inside the passage, began to push/pull his apprehensive friend away from the pool and up the tunnel. There was dim light penetrating the pitch from what was most likely another pool room up ahead.

“Come on David, get it together! We’ve got to get out of here!” Tim shouted, the despair of their plight starting to sink in. He was pushing David forcibly toward the room, angry at his friend for breaking down into a state of inertness. A dark shadow rose up behind him, blocking the light from the previous room. Tim tried grabbing David to lunge him forward, but his head suddenly jerked back as his feet progressed.

“Ahhhh!” he cried out in pain. “David! Run, ru…” His hair was being pulled from his scalp and he wanted to take hold of the hand that had his hair and unclench it. He barely raised his arms from his waist when he felt the unnatural feeling of cold sharp steel at his neck. He felt the sharp bite as it pierced his flesh and carved its way within, a numb throbbing pain pounding into his head. He cried out in horror when he realized the steel was easily continuing to slice into him. Warm liquid began to run down his naked chest and although he could not look down he knew it was his blood. He cried out violently, a reaction to the appalling realization of what was happening to him. His cries turned to chokes as he slowly lost the ability to breath, the steel now slicing through his trachea with awful potency. A murky cloudiness engulfed him; his last vision was of David scurrying franticly up the waterway.