The news reports that morning were far from good. There was another cult attack; the God of Mayhem would be here soon to rule the earth and to feast on our souls.
To say I was scared would be a terrible understatement.
So I did what I always do, I followed my routine. Right now, my schedule has me kayaking in the ocean. It calms me, the silence and the surf.
Sure, apparently Cthulu will come from the ocean, but to get my bit of peace and quiet, I will chance it. I have to.
The pull and draw of the oars, the sound of the rushing surf, immediately when I started rowing it stilled my beating heart. I felt I could breathe again, and the overwhelming anticipation that the world was experiencing right now was long behind me, on shore with my car.
Breathe, lift, pull. Breathe, lift, pull.
The stress took me a lot further out than I normally go, and I let it. It was exhilarating to feel detached from the constant blabber of our cursed nature.
That is, until I saw the tentacle.
It came from the surf. It was purple and engorged. I could see the broken capillaries and the veins. The suction cups were as big as my head and they pulsed shut and open, shut and open. The whole thing bulged, like it was stuffed too full. There was a clear weeping fluid coursing down the sides of it, like saliva.
I rowed backward, hoping to free myself from this monster before it came.
Everyone who warned us of the ocean were right, I should have heeded their warnings.
I was too late. Another tentacle came up behind me and another on the side.
They came at me, so fast I could barely see them. They seized my boat and it started sinking in the front while the back was lifted from the water.
I panicked and stood, over balancing and falling into the water, but I never hit.
One of the engorged limbs grabbed my leg with amazing dexterity and speed. I felt the ooze sliding into my shorts. I screamed and kicked, and it raised me further in the air.
A thinner tentacle landed on my shoulder. This one started feeling up my body until it found the skin where my shirt was riding up.
I tried to knock it back, but then the suction started and I screamed as it bit into me. I started hitting the thing, but nothing helped.
It raised me higher in the air and I yelled hoping someone would help me. I saw on shore, there were people standing at the end of the dock. They were talking and pointing. One man had the audacity to pull out his cell and start filming.
I looked back towards the water and I saw a giant beak breaking the surface. It had a dark glossy sheen and it opened and shut. There was a tongue inside, flicking this way and back like a giant worm had nested there.
I felt the tentacle holding my leg letting go. I screamed, and I knew this was my end.
I would be the first victim, and all I could do was hope that from my death and its lessons, there would be others that were saved.
As I felt the beak breaking into my stomach, I did something I have not done since I was a child, I prayed.
And then, sweet oblivion.