Ever since I was young I knew I wanted to be a marine biologist. The ocean always fascinated me, the sea life, the never ending expanse that the sea is, and all the undiscovered organisms and places the human mind couldn’t even begin to understand. Needless to say when my coworker and lifelong best friend Asher and I were offered a high paying two week gig exploring parts of the Pacific Ocean I was stoked. It’d give me an opportunity to not only pursue my passion, pay my bills, and gather research that could help me further the path towards my PhD.
We left on a Monday and our work began almost immediately. Amidst the vast expanse of the ocean, our research vessel sailed, its machinery humming rhythmically, and the boat creaking in the night. The moon struggled to pierce the thick clouds, casting an eerie glow over the water. I immersed myself in my work, oblivious to the mysterious occurrences that awaited us.
Whispers, initially soft like the rustle of wind, began to permeate the air. Gradually, they transformed into a haunting chorus, repeatedly calling my name.
“Quinn… Quinn…”
An unsettling sensation ran down my spine. Glancing at Asher, his expression mirrored my unease. The perceived safety of the research boat now seemed fragile against an enigmatic terror lurking in the dark expanse that is the pacific.
Days melded into nights, and the whispers persisted, occasionally intertwining with the creaks of the boat. The research equipment hummed with an otherworldly quality, as if the vessel itself harbored secrets. The calls became more insistent, hinting at an unseen force attempting to breach our isolated domain.
In the dimly lit research space, I approached the side of the boat, peering into the abyss. “Who’s there?” I called out, my voice swallowed by the surrounding darkness. No response, just the disquieting repetition of my name, accompanied by an unsettling resonance.
Exhaustion and trepidation mingled as shadows danced mysteriously, and the whispers assumed an eerie, spectral quality. The line between our known reality and the unexplained blurred, prompting contemplation of the nature of our surroundings.
Regardless as unnerved as this made us feel we felt fascinated too. could we be on the precipice of some scientific discovery? Was this some sort of collective hallucination, something scientifically, inexplicable, coming from the depths of the ocean, or some sort of organism that hadn’t even been discovered that could somehow be mimicking my name given the times Asher had addressed me by it on the boat.
One night, beneath the flickering lights of our research station, a figure I can’t quite articulate the shape of somewhat human but not, too tall but flat against the waves only appearing a mere silhouette created within bioluminescent organisms, its twisted face whispered my name with an otherworldly fervor, it sounded gurgled but like thousands of voices whispering all at once. Asher and I recoiled in horror, acknowledging that our isolation was no longer limited to the confines of the boat.
Terrified, we exchanged uneasy glances. “What the hell is that, Quinn?” Asher asked, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
“I don’t know, but it’s been calling my name for days. We need to figure out what’s happening,” I replied, my own voice trembling.
As we observed the apparition, our minds raced back to the shared history we had built since high school. Asher and I had been inseparable friends, exploring the mysteries of life together. Now, faced with an otherworldly enigma, our bond would be tested like never before.
I desperately tried to shift my fear into fascination and take as many pictures as I could with our research equipment. Meanwhile, Asher filmed. Sitting in a mix between horror, fascination, and curiosity, we observed, as the figure continued to whisper and rise among the waves before the giant expanse of the ocean went black again.
We debated whether the apparition was a manifestation of our collective fear or an eldritch force beyond our understanding. The calls intensified every night, a symphony of anguished voices echoing my name, creating a chilling resonance that echoed through the ship.
After enduring a week of this harrowing experience, Asher and I, our nerves frayed, decided to cut the mission short. However, as we attempted to navigate back to safety, a new horror unfolded – our GPS signal inexplicably ceased to function. The once reliable technology abandoned us in this sea of nightmares, leaving us adrift in a realm where the known and unknown merged in an eerie symphony.
As the vessel sailed through the mysterious waters, our conversations grew more urgent and intense. We grappled with the inexplicable events that plagued us, our shared dread growing with each passing moment. The ghostly voices mingled with the ambient sounds of the sea, forming an indistinguishable chorus that resonated within the heart of our shared terror. What was this? What did it want? How did it know my name and better yet why wasn’t it calling for Asher too? These questions plagued us while we did our best with our compasses to guide us anywhere land bound but it felt like we kept getting even deeper into the mess of the ocean.
We’re running low on supplies and fuel will be depleted within the week. Fortunately our on ship radio is still working along with our phones. The coast guard is coming to our rescue but they’re having a hard time pinging where our boat is. We can’t see land anywhere but in the last day or so it hasn’t bothered me, as a matter of fact I’ve been considering using our dive equipment to try to see more of what this organism could be. Asher is insistent I don’t but with every passing hour the urge has been getting harder and harder to resist. I think when he’s sleeping tonight I’ll try.