Chapter 10 v3
Die Already Part 2
Kaep's arms were about to give out. Every knuckle burned, and his skin slipped with the mixture of blood and rain. Hanging from the hole, his right arm holding on as best it could, but feeling like it would dislocate if his grip didn't fail first. He couldn't feel his left anymore, though he could move it despite being hooked on the sharp edge.
The hull vibrated beneath him with every wave crashing against the ship's metal wall. The iron groaned with a creak that propagated under his chest, making him think the edge would bend further at any moment. Air entered his lungs in ragged, choppy gasps.
Below, the pull was unbearable. Something was dragging him down; he knew it was the red-haired man, but the weight he felt wasn't that of a human, it was something more. For a moment, he thought the ligaments in his leg would tear out. He clenched his teeth and screamed, but the sound was lost against the storm.
And suddenly… it happened…
The pull vanished. All the weight dragging him down released at once, as if a chain had been sliced from his ankle. His leg was free.
Kaep breathed in a spasm of relief, as if he'd surfaced from drowning. But the relief lasted only a heartbeat. The void left in his leg was worse: it wasn't liberation, it was that something had changed below.
—"!"— The thought pierced him with the speed of lightning.
He jerked his head down quickly, the muscles in his neck protesting, trying to see. Through the rain and shadows, he barely made out a red silhouette moving. The redhead was there, falling, dragged by a scaly tail. But he quickly grabbed onto the monster's tail. Kaep saw him in the instant a metallic crash rumbled through the hull to his right, as if something gigantic had collided with the ship's structure and was dragging it into the depths.
Kaep barely had time to turn his head to see fully when he felt the chill. An icy current ran up his skin as if the air itself had turned to needles. He knew, before even looking completely, that the monster was looking at him.
His skin prickled all over. It wasn't a simple shiver; it was his whole body telling him this was the end.
And then it happened.
Thunder exploded overhead. Lightning split the sky in a white flash, and in that flare, Kaep saw the light on his thigh ignite again.
The monster's eye moved immediately and fixed on that light. The claw heading straight for Kaep veered a few centimeters, striking the wall and widening the hole further.
Kaep swallowed air dryly, unable to move, when another flash illuminated something else behind the creature. A shadow moving as if it had been thrown.
It was him. The redhead.
Kaep saw him in that blink, cutting through the air in an impossible arc. He had released the monster's tail and now passed over it, rain cascading down his body. He stretched out his right arm and placed his hand on the hull as if to brake.
A jet of water shot from a liquid spiral that briefly appeared on the wall, pushing him into a dive. He fell with the precision of a projectile onto the monster's head.
Kaep barely managed to open his eyes when he saw him clench his left hand tightly around the sword's hilt.
The monster turned its eye toward him, just in time to witness it.
The storm water, falling on the sword, the monster, and the redhead, began to slide toward that hilt, as if obeying a silent command. Kaep felt even the rain on the two of them change direction. The liquid streamed toward the sword, passing the guard, climbing the metal, and seeping inside the monster.
A tremor ran through the being, a shudder that propagated from its head to its tail.
And then it burst.
The water exploded from inside in a bloody geyser. Dark jets spurted from its eyes and from the hole the sword opened in its skull. The roar mixed with the storm, a blend of rusted iron and dying beast.
The grip of its limbs loosened instantly. Kaep felt the pressures on the hull vanish, and the monstrous body began to slip, releasing into the void.
For a moment, he could do nothing but watch. The man was still there, perched on the monster, sword buried to the hilt.
And against all instinct, Kaep stretched his right leg toward him, offering it.
The movement came almost without thought. Kaep extended his right leg toward the man, a desperate gesture, as if that minimal connection could save them both.
The redhead understood instantly. With a sharp tug, he ripped the sword from the monster's head. The flesh tore open like shredded tissue and a new dark jet spurted into the air. The man bent his knees, preparing to leap, and stretched his arm toward Kaep's leg.
For a second, time seemed to stop: the monster falling, the sword held high, the arm outstretched. The distance between them was minimal. All it would take was for their hands to touch.
The man was already pushing off the monster's body when it happened.
Something caught him.
A blackened limb closed over his shoulder and another around his left leg. The pull shook him so violently the leap was aborted instantly.
Both Kaep and the redhead reacted with surprise. Their gazes met in a heartbeat, and both understood the same thing: the monster wasn't dead.
It was still alive.
The beast's body was already plummeting downward, dragging the man with it. The redhead struggled furiously, freeing his right shoulder with a sharp movement. He used that instant to stretch out again toward Kaep, fingers open, desperate to catch the leg still extended toward him.
But Kaep contracted his leg slightly. It was a minimal movement, barely perceptible, but enough for the leg to deviate just enough.
The redhead's fingers brushed empty air.
The contact never happened.
The failed gesture condemned him. The man was swallowed downward, dragged along with the monster in free fall. The red figure and the dark body merged into a whirlwind that disappeared toward the raging sea.
Kaep was left hanging from the hull, a scream trapped in his throat.
---
[Redhead's perspective]
The young man's face receded, getting further and further above. The redhead let out a dry, incredulous sigh. It wasn't even a scream: just harsh air as he realized he had failed.
For a moment, they seemed like two chained bodies: him and the monster, united by the limbs imprisoning him. The beast pulled him with an immense weight, as if wanting to drag him straight to the heart of the sea.
The fall wasn't clean. The first impact came when the monster's body slammed against the ship's hull, which was violently thrown back by another wave. The metallic sound was a dry crash, a giant bell toll that ran through his bones.
The monster bounced off the iron, and with it, the redhead. The blow sent him spinning in the air like a doll, his legs and arms flailing in opposite directions. He managed to cover his face with his forearms, but the pain shot through his shoulders from top to bottom.
The rain enveloped everything, cutting his vision. He could barely make out the shape of the monster dragging him, spinning clumsily,失控 from the impact.
Suddenly, another collision. Something crossed their path mid-fall. Another creature, similar, but different: a monstrous fish with four limbs. The contact was brutal, like two blocks of rock smashing together under a waterfall.
The impact separated them for an instant. The redhead tumbled through the air, regaining a second of freedom. The other monster was swept away in the opposite direction, while the first continued plummeting with him.
The chaotic spin brought them together again. The dark body and the man ended up side by side once more.
The redhead gritted his teeth, jaw hard, and didn't hesitate. He tightened his grip on the sword he still held in his right hand. The blade ignited with a reddish aura barely visible in the rain's chaos. And in that instant, without further thought, he drove it with all his strength into the head of the monster dragging him.
The skull gave way with a dull crunch.
The steel pierced the monster's head with a muffled crack, and a guttural roar erupted from deep within its throat. The sound was horrifying, a mix of wounded animal and rusted iron splitting in two. The rain drowned everything, but that shriek stood out even over the storm.
There was no time for more. The sea's surface rushed toward them like a black wall.
The impact was brutal. The man and the creature hit the water simultaneously, the muffled crash reverberating in his chest as if he'd been thrown against a slab of stone. The blow knocked the air from his lungs all at once; a sharp stab left him blind for an instant.
The sword almost slipped from his hand. Only the obsessive effort not to let go—to keep it buried—held it. But the water was treacherous. Between the jolt and the viscous resistance of the flesh, the hilt began to slide between his fingers, slippery with blood and saltwater.
He tried to hold on with both hands, pulling toward him, as if he could drag the entire monster. The pressure felt like it would burst his arms, veins about to explode, muscles burning. Still, he persisted.
And he lost.
The sword slid, bit by bit, through flesh and bone. Until it came free completely. The weapon was left behind, spinning in the darkness, as the monster and the man separated.
The water swallowed them both. The current took them and dragged them in different directions, deforming their bodies like ragdolls among liquid shadows.
The redhead opened his eyes underwater. Only darkness, pressure, and distant lightning, filtering from the surface like broken glass. In the midst of that chaos, he managed to see a metallic glint spinning slowly between him and the beast: the sword, suspended, adrift.
The monster was the first to move. Its gigantic tail whipped the water with a lash. The shock created a vortex that pushed it toward the darkness, away from the sword, separating it from his only advantage.
His chest burned. He'd lost too much air in the impact. Every second was a fire in his lungs.
But his hands didn't stay still. Though he had no voice or cry, though the pressure crushed him, he moved his arms with a fierce instinct.
The water responded.
A liquid wall rose before him, absorbing the blow from the monster's claws. The impact rebounded like a drum underwater. And before the defense dissolved, he transformed it into an attack: a spiral spear of compressed water shot straight at the abomination's torso.
The impact shook the depths. The creature's flesh tore open in a jet of blood that dispersed into red bubbles.
But the monster didn't stop.
It spun sharply, opening monstrous jaws, and from its mouth emerged something worse: an elongated, deformed tongue that seemed like a grotesque head trying to bite him within the sea itself.
The aberration shot from the maw like a living whip. The tongue writhed, with the repulsive shape of a malformed head opening its own mouth inside the mouth, uneven teeth seeking to tear his face off.
The redhead reacted without thinking. He pressed his arm to his chest and extended his open palm. Another spear, smaller, faster, erupted from it. The liquid projectile shot out like lightning underwater, piercing the aberrant tongue amidst a cloud of red bubbles.
The monster shook with a shriek that rumbled through the water, dull and distorted, as if coming from all directions. The mutilated tongue retracted, pulsing, back into the throat.
But there was no respite.
One of the abomination's limbs stretched to the right, deforming under the pressure. In a matter of a second, it elongated as if made of shadow and water, then recoiled with violence. The blow struck the man's side directly.
The pain was immediate and brutal. He felt his ribs bend, a fire that tore away the air he no longer had. His body spun uncontrollably, tumbling in the current.
Before he could orient himself, another current hit them both. An invisible force dragged them like leaves in a whirlwind, throwing them in opposite directions. The entire sea seemed to conspire against him: every time he managed to regain his balance, another wave battered him again.
The monster also spun, but whenever it stabilized, it tried to lunge at him quickly, like a predator that never tires.
The redhead, whenever he managed to right himself, tried to rise toward the surface. His lungs screamed, his chest burned, he needed air. But he never made it. Something always interrupted him: a claw swipe, a charge, another wave throwing him back into the abyss.
The desperation was total.
He wasn't just losing air. He was also losing his sense of direction. Up and down were the same, only liquid chaos. The only thing guiding him were the lightning flashes that, at intervals, split the surface. Each flare illuminated the water like shattered glass, and for an instant, he regained his bearings.
And there, among those flashes, floated the sword.
Descending slowly, as if waiting for them both. Spinning silently, suspended in the darkness, being dragged by the currents just like them.