The Tube of You: bVtk5Vda6Aw
Deeper... deeper...
The press of the water on his chest. The pitch blackness of the depths in his eyes. The rasping hiss of the regulator in his mouth, struggling now to fill his lungs with enriched air.
And still he had to go deeper.
Two hundred feet down now. Now it was deeper than he had ever been before. Deeper than you could go on air alone. Down here you had to use helium and helium ravaged his lungs, tortured and burned them, worse than a hit off the most potent drugs whose names he'd never know.
Flashlight. On and off one, two, three...
Three... No, four. Now five times.
Fuck. Brain fog. Fucking concentrate, diver, or down here, you're dead. And down here, no one will ever come to get your bones. The attendant emerged from his hovel, looked the diver up and down. Filled his tank and scampered back into the depths without a word.
Good. Now deeper.
There was no light here, none, not from the sun nor from the bioluminescent half-plant half-animal things that floated in the currents. The only exception was the harsh artificial redness from his flashlight, his lifeline down here. If the batteries died, if the LED died... he died.
A rope. A tiny fluorescent bit of nylon—he reached out and caught it. Another lifeline, if a damned one, considering where it led.
No matter. Don't think about that now. Clip the flashlight to your helmet and then pull yourself, hand over hand, deeper and deeper into the dark.
The pressure was crushing now. His arteries struggled to pump blood into his body, his lungs struggled just to stay filled. Every breath was a battle, every heartbeat a choked desperate gasp. His limbs were slackened, his muscles contorted, almost crushed by the depths.
Into the vessel. Into fresh darkness, a fresh depth in this watery Hell. At last the diver turned to his prize; not the treasures, the gems, the rare marinelife, the marvels of science and biology even in the scum and algae slinking along the rotting floor.
It was the skeleton, still clad in a white cloth turban, draped with explosives and belts of ammunition, slain where he had stood, forever entombed in the Black Cave.
(□□, □□□□ □□□□□□ □□□□! □□□□□□-□□□□, □□□□□□? □□□□□□ □□ □□□□□ □□□□□□□□-□□□□□ □□□; □□□ □□□□□□□!!)
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Treasure Cove: TORA BORA
Historical FictionDeeper... deeper... The press of the water on his chest. The pitch blackness of the depths in his eyes. The rasping hiss of the regulator in his mouth, struggling now to fill his lungs with enriched air. And still he had to go deeper.
