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Submerged: Voting

Which is the best representation of submerged?  

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  1. 1. Which is the best representation of submerged?

    • Entry 1
    • Entry 2
    • Entry 3

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Entry 1



We were all playing in the sea. Some kids were building a large stack of rocks that were just lying around. The other kids pushed me and shoved me. I was always different to them. But this time they took it to far.


They pushed me toward the stack of rocks, causing me to get hit in the head. It started a mini avalanche. Some rocks fell onto me pushing me under the water while giving me cuts and bruises.  Others fell onto my long flowing hair, causing my to be pinned down there.


My vision was blurry, and the pain in my head didn’t help either as blood poured out. I tried to get up, but my hair was stuck. Fear struck me as I tried to pull away but instead it the rocks just tugged at my head. After around twenty seconds of nothing but tugging at my hair I stopped, feeling hopeless.


I looked around for a solution, but all of a sudden a fish swam by causing me to gasp. I knew immediately that this was a huge mistake as the salty sea water filling my lungs. Unbearable pain coursed through my body as my throat began to close. I panicked again trying to dislodge the rocks on my hair but my arms were to weak.


I cried silent tears as I pushed and pulled against the cold hard rocks. I couldn’t help but feel the terrible burning sensation in my lungs, hopelessly trying to get some air. I could barley struggle now. My vision was turning black. I no longer could struggle. The last thing I saw was my dear sister desperately pulling me out as the other children just laughed...


Entry 2



Cold. It's so very cold. The surface ripples in the last memories of a splash, the surface settling until it looks nearly like glass. The view beneath the surface is serene, a stark contrast to the feeling in her chest as the beast of fear rages inside of her. In the dangerous moment of being caught between action and inaction, she finds her limbs at an impasse. Survival is a basic instinct, she had been told, and even puppies learn to swim when tossed into the water.

The veins in her neck become snakes seeking her face, pressing out against the skin as the small dip at the base of her throat becomes now a vast valley, each rib pressing harsh against her skin in a visual representation of how trapped in her own fear she was. Her lips part and she tries to think of something - anything at this point - other than the temperature as screams turn to bubbles and hope turns towards despair. The bubbles are uneventful exclamation points and her limbs are dead trees, rooting themselves to her useless body as it does what it has done for all of her life.


It breathes in.


In her lungs the water is fire, a bonfire lit for one that offers no warmth. She chokes, coughs, sputters, and gags against the intrusion but in the still and silent waters there is nothing. The light stutters and struggles to speak before closing in for a hug, her eyes fluttering closed. It's too cold.


Entry 3



After months of waiting, weeks of teasing temperatures stripped away by Winters jealous hand, the crocodile known only as Liu could finally stand upon the waters edge with his head back and arms outstretched, a praise to the Heat which had finally come and the end of the Rut. He did not burn with desire any longer, temptation to fight with the wolves lessened at last. He did not fester with the energy that the Rut brought yet unable to release it, his outlets constrained by the Ice Queen’s bitter hold.

Finally, though, Spring had persevered and Summer had arrived. Six stood on the waters edge, his toes buried in the sand as the frothy white and blue waves beat gently across his ankles to tickle at the shore, a playful dance that had begun millions of years ago, when Land was still new and Water could tease at its soils. The man was in not but his skin at this hour, the beach which had become his sanctuary when the weather warmed rarely occupied and his clothing stowed safely in a bag beneath a rock, only the small red ribbon of fabric that his favorite Crane had given him exposed so he could find it again.

A little piece of Luck which he had kept on his person whenever he was not shifted.

Taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly in a long and contented sigh, the man moved further into the water until he was about waist deep, his hands swirling at the warm surface as the waves pushed against him. The currents had turned finally and brought warm gulf waters northward at last, allowing him access to his Domain. The sharks might rule the deeper, darker waters, where the bottom fell beyond sight, beyond light, but here, at the shore, the Crocodile was king.

Six embraced his soul as the old friend that it was and dove forward, allowing the transition to take place seamlessly as he dipped beneath the water. A man, small, battered, a survivor of torture and tests, became a beast. A symbol of fierceness, strength, fear, power, courage, cunning, and more. A representative of the raw primal energies of the world and their potential when left unchecked, animal cut through the water effortlessly, the long scutes upon his tail slicing the waves above as he swam methodically towards deeper water.

Each ripple of his tail propelled him on, little energy spent on the simple locomotion, his feet used to steer him carefully. Eventually, satisfied by his depth, the croc drew his lungs full of air and began to dive, making his way towards the rocky, sandy bottom some thirty feet down...a little deeper than he was long. He settled upon the bottom, his legs splaying to slow his descent and a few bubbles released from his nostrils as he settled down, silt clouds billowing briefly before the current took them away and cleared the water once more.

Schools of fish emerged in his vision, their scales shimmering in the light cast down from the surface while starfish and crabs played on the bottom, leaving little trails in the silty surface. There was a peace that came with being here in the depths. One he could not find when basking on land. He felt more connected to the water than anything else in his world. The one reliable resource he could always count on. He could almost smile…

And the best part about it was he didn’t really have to leave it. In the warmer climates, he could stay in the water forever, forgoing his Humanity for the Primality of his bestial spirit. A duality in harmony where he was as content as one as he was the other. And for a while, Six did. He breached the surface occasionally for a fresh breath before sinking back down to the bottom. Sometimes he snagged a fish and returned to the surface to eat. Sometimes he just lay in the shallows and let the water wash over him and the sun warm his thick scales. It was quite cathartic.

Until it wasn’t…

About two hours in, the shifter felt the pulse of a boat through the water and quickly slid back into the waves, disappearing under the surface once again on his way to the bottom where he could more safely watch from below without being as easily detected. As he settled, wriggling carefully to bury himself somewhat, the water carrying the clouds of silt away again, he watched as the dark hull of a boat appeared around the cove of his beach, cutting through the water overhead before slowing and stopping at the drop off. The boat dropped a smaller inflatable vessel into the water with a low splash and he watched it sink a little as weight was added to it. The small outboard motor of the vessel kicked in and it cut through the shallow waves before beaching at the shore.

Wary of being spotted, Six carefully crawled along the bottom towards the ledge, keeping every movement he made slow and careful, not wanting to be spotted by anyone who might still be on the vessel. Once he was directly under the boat, Six began to ascend, floating carefully back up with a combination of careful tail sweeps and control of his buoyancy. Mindful not to get too close to the boat as it bobbed in the waves, the croc tried to listen from his vantage to the steps echoing through the boat and into the water.

”Dutch said he’d been spotted leaving downtown around lunch and tracked him out here. But that was it. He couldn’t wait all afternoon. So mind yourself in the water. He may be lurking nearby.”

“Why don’t we put a drone in the air? The water’s pretty clear today so we might be able to spot him if he is underwater.”

The croc narrowed his mental eye before carefully moving out a little from under the boat to stick the end of his nose up out of the water for a fresh breath and a silent dive back towards the bottom. He could navigate around the cove, he thought, and wait there, pick them off one by one. Without getting closer and possibly being spotted, he had no idea how many were on the shore now but by the voices filtered through the boat and the steps he’d heard, there were at least five others onboard. Seeing as the boat was around forty feet in length, it was plenty big enough for them to try and wrestle with him from the safety of the ship.

A drone overhead was going to make things much more difficult. It would spot him almost immediately. And though he could stay below the surface for a long time, he couldn’t stay forever. Searching the seafloor for something he could work with, anything, Six carefully crawled along it, heading for the point, doing his best to limit exagerrated motions as possible. It was an agonizing twenty minute crawl that stretched the capacity of his lungs painfully. And by the time he reached it, there was no turning back.

He felt the boat kick into motion through the water and he quickly broke cover, shooting for the surface to get a breath before diving back down again, violently thrusting his tail to propel him through the water as quickly as he could, searching the bottom for anywhere to hide, anywhere that might have an air pocket or something. Anything. But there was nothing. There was nowhere to hide. Nowhere to escape. And he would tire long before the boat ran out of gas. His only choice was to get to the shallows and fight, force them to try and get close then take them out and drown them one at a time.

Whipping around the cove, he surged towards the rocky shore on this side, spotting the ledge with the deceptively shallow rocks jutting up against the waves, hidden beneath their froth by just a few inches. The other side of the ledge dropped off again about ten feet, allowing him plenty of room. He cut to the surface, inflating himself to provide as much buoyancy as possible before surging over the ledge and plummeting back to the bottom.

The boat zipped in behind him and the water filled with the deafening screech of a tearing hull as the boat was jerked to a halt. He could make his escape with it dead in the water now. Surging towards the surface, Six clawed up the rocks and thrust his head above the water, blindside to the boat. He didn’t see the lasso that went flying from the deck towards him until it was already over his snout. His momentum was yanked to a halt by the rope and shouts of men aboard. A second rope went out but missed as he threw his head to either side, sliding over the rocks to the deeper water. The second rope came out again and in his thrashing, it slid over his jaw and tightened up; the men pulled on it and with nothing for him to use to pull back except his own body mass, there was nothing he could do.

He tried to turn towards the rocks more to get something with purchase, but it did no good. Rumbling in threat at them, he watched a figure on the boat move to the side, the long silvery barrel of a tranquilizing rifle in his hands. Panic filled him and he thrashed uncontrollably again, pulling one man over. He took advantage of this and stopped fighting the ropes in order to race towards the boat and the man in the water swimming quickly towards the back. With a terrible hiss through his cinched shut maw, he rammed into the man, crushing him against the prow of the boat and using his body mass to force him under the water, drowning him quickly while they continued to tug, racing to collect the loose rope from his change in direction.

The reptile dove under the boat in the meantime and went deeper, pure power fighting the grip of the men on the rope. Once he had enough slack, he turned back towards the surface and launched himself out of it, throwing himself towards the boat and landing with a hard thud on the deck. The rope had been wrenched out of the mens hands at that point and he was able to work his jaws slowly open as he faced the now four men on the other side, one still with the tranq gun, rushing to get a dart in. He would not be retaken. Another threatening hiss flew from his jaws as he finally got them wide enough to rub his head against the deck and rub them off. 

The massive croc pulled the rest of his body over the railing onto the boat and started to move towards them , gaping wide in threat. I WILL NOT GO BACK And with a release of eneergy in muscles, he lunged towards the closest one. That one was shoved out of the way and he caught his savior instead, locking down on the arm and going into an immediate deathroll. There was a scream of pain from the man as he broke his forearm in several places and crushed his hand. The muscle and skin tissue separated and he nearly managed to get the whole thing off when the butt of a gun cracked down on his one eye, forcing him to release it and pedal backwards, temporarily blinded. At that point, someone jumped on his back, two men pressing down on the top of his jaws until they closed and strong, black electrical tape wrapped around the end to hold them shut, a second series of ropes added just in case. He still thrashed under them, bellowing angrily and slamming his body from side to side. But they worked quickly, more trained than he’d expected, and soon, his legs were cinched up as well.

Something pierced in the soft space behind one front leg and soon, there was only darkness...






Profile set made by @jordan of Dark Motives


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