Short Story Collection

Tune of the Pacific

If you are reading this, it means that I have already passed away. I just needed to speak my mind one last time, give off the event I witnessed that broke me for the remainder of my years. Everybody thinks I'm just going crazy, but they don't understand how it feels to relive that moment in my own head, to continuously hear that horrific tune like it's repeatedly calling me back to the ocean, to do god knows what to me.

To start off, I used to be a wildlife photographer, a damn good one as well. I was in Hawaii at the time, ready to take photos of some humpback whales. I rented a boat and took it to the middle of the ocean, putting on my scuba gear, I dived into the water and managed to catch a glimpse of a whale pod. There must've been at-least 15 individuals, it was seriously quite the sight. I managed to take several good photos and I just decided to stay submerged for a little longer because I wanted to look at these whales just for a while. As expected with these animals, I was pretty much bombarded with their songs; not that I minded, it was very majestic.

As the whales sang, they also swam away to parts unknown, I tried my best to follow them but they got so far to the point where even their tail fins seemingly faded away from sight. Despite this I could still hear their songs ever so faintly, however at that point their songs were being blocked out by a different tune, I don't know how to properly describe it, it seemed to be a quiet enough pitch, yet it was blocking any other type of sound in the water, If a whale would be producing some sort of vocalization, I wouldn't be able to hear it and proceed to accidentally collide with the massive animal. The tune seemed oddly hypnotic, and I began to sense that its point of origin was right behind me; I was staring off into the direction from where the whales departed but the sound kept pulling me towards it, I turned around and saw this unusual, pitch black figure. It had these odd tendrils protruding on the sides, its—dare I say—body seemed to have no true form but it looked as if it tried to take on the appearance of some circular shape, almost like it was trying to form an eye. I was unnerved yet it's like the pitch it emitted blocked out whatever fear I felt for it, it was further strengthening my sense of relaxation and intrigue, whatever it pretty much took for me to continue staring at it.

That was the biggest mistake I've ever made, just staying still in the open ocean, making prolonged eye contact with it. It did nothing aside from warping its being as its tendrils wiggled and danced, its damned song playing in my ears and manipulating my mind. It was quite soothing and it grew to a point where the figure was no longer unnerving to me, but in what felt like a split second, the black orb vanished and the scenery changed, the ocean looked different like I've just been somehow teleported to an unknown part of the ocean. I only looked for a brief second as I closed my eyes and covered my ears, that once soothing tune grew louder and more overwhelming, I thrashed uncontrollably in the water for a while, and without even looking I instinctively turned and swam away. The song was still loud and it was hurting my senses, but I could feel it quieting down as I swam farther and farther, I didn't even take into consideration what I was swimming towards, I just needed to get away from the sound.

I opened my eyes and noticed that the water looked just like the way it did when I first dived, at that point I frantically swam up until my head emerged from the water, I managed to get back into the boat, shaking from the shock of it all. The two guys operating the boat told me that I swam like a maniac and they couldn't figure out why, they never noticed any sharks and when I asked them about the black orb, they just looked at me confused.

Though my gaze into the darkened ocean was brief, I still have a faint memory of what I saw for those few seconds. The water had taken on a darker bluish hue, strange rock formations that were engulfed in shadow and that thing, I don't know what it was--something massive and slender, like a giant moray, or sea snake, or a giant limb belonging to some unknown creature; not like I could get a chance to find out, I couldn't concentrate with that fucking song hurting my fucking ears.

When I got back to shore, predictably I was never the same man again. I grew terrified of the water and I couldn't sleep anymore because I'd hear that tune playing very faintly in my head. I've gotten help before but every time they hear me out, they just say I'm insane, diagnose me with psychosis or schizophrenia, or whatever. I saw that shit with my own eyes and now I have to live with the pain of reliving that moment and hearing it calling back to me. Not a chance in hell, I'm going back to the water, never again will I see that darkened ocean. I'd sooner be a dead man than to reunite with that thing.

To anybody that reads this, if you hear a strange tune underwater, you need to get away, fight the urge to gaze into the black orb, don't let it take you to the darkened ocean. I don't know what's there or how dangerous it is, but even I know that living in bliss is better than to have that orb haunt you for the rest of your life or for that thing to kill you. A life of blissful ignorance that I'll never experience again.