Watered Down
  • Reads 271,533
  • Votes 11,569
  • Parts 23
  • Time 3h 13m
  • Reads 271,533
  • Votes 11,569
  • Parts 23
  • Time 3h 13m
Ongoing, First published Sep 05, 2016
**shortlisted for Wattys2017**
Technically speaking, I died when I was seventeen.

What should have been just another typical day out on the water with my friends, turned ugly fast when a freak storm came out of nowhere and I was thrown overboard. Had it not been for my damned dress, I could have swam to safety, but no, every day had to be a fashion show, and my dress got caught on rocks, holding me down until I drowned.

I thought right before I died I would at least get to see a montage of my fabulous life, all the parties and romantic dates with my perfect boyfriend, Asher, but nope again. Instead, all I saw was a hideous sea monster smiling to me as my lungs filled with water.
 
When I woke up in a cave in the middle of the ocean, that sea witch made me an offer I couldn't refuse. I could go back to my perfect life, and my adorable boyfriend, all I had to do was give the sea witch two years of my service, and then she'd free me from my fate.

It seemed easy enough at the time, but can the price to live actually come at too high of a cost?

Highest rank #5 in paranormal
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The Ballads of The Skeleton Crew

32 parts Ongoing

The boy had never been scourged by dread, not really, untouched still of startling agony to become his reality. He spotted the imposing cliffside meaning to change that by mere accident, kept in defiant remembrance still of this heavenly music descended upon Earth from Heaven, magnificent, majestic and entrancing, this blue ship which had came last night to conjure mystery and great brilliance vibrating with splendor and glory born, like summer sunshine brought unto gloomy night, unlike anything ever heard of. He paused in thought to look at what was dangling from these rocketed walls, instilled immediately by mortal agony. What encountered him there was awful, horrific, spun from his nightmare to turn to atrocious truth. They left a message for him, these strangers, a message for all mankind. All the people from the town were nailed on the colossal rock with obsidian spikes the size of fists, hidden in the darkness as horror always lurked there within. Blood, everywhere. The spikes ripped skin open, tore their bodies apart to let it be a grotesque image, the self-portrait of Death itself. Stiff pale limbs, grossly tangled together, a myriad of heads decorating empty space. A few mutilated legs and arms lay motionless on the bottom of it, of the mere terror, the waves had yet to reach and clean the crime scene, crimson rocks and red sand carnation furthermore. The details swam and blurred his view. He was thankful, for a glimpse sufficed a lifetime. When the dark ship came, it didn't only warn the people of the Destruction following behind, they carried it themselves, bestowing it willingly and with intent, purpose, unknown and arbitrary as it may seem regardless. People rumored among their crowds that they were in fact the cause, the real Bringer of Death. The Harbingers of Cruelty. The Black Squad, Side of Doom. Known perhaps better by their most famous name, the Skeleton Crew. _ updated irregularly, because life is hard