The Kids Aren't Alright

Chapter 72: Finn

How did I think I could defend myself from this?

This force of nature?

Finn Murphy, the kraken says. I don't know how it knows my name. I don't know how it speaks English. No— speaking and English are the wrong words. The kraken has it own language, and it resonates. Its voice resonate inside my head like thoughts, and it's completely fucking terrifying. Boy. Need you. Help.

A tentacle passes in front of my face. Blood leaks from a dozen gunshot wounds, purple flesh rent apart by bits of metal, and I wonder if the kraken is showing me something. Or trying to make a point. Two yellow eyes with black slits for pupils stare meaningfully at me.

The eyes are so bright that water lights up around them. That's when I realize— Lightlake. The lake is light because the kraken's eyes are so powerful they act like a giant, underwater flashlight! Holy hell. It's all starting to make sense now. Wolsley said it was named Lightlake because of the explosion, but he's wrong. It's because of the kraken.

I stare at the kraken in wide-eyed amazement. It's so fucking huge. The head alone— if I can even call it a head— is bigger than a pickup truck, and the body is so colossal, I can't even make out the extent of it. Tentacles ripple past my head like oil come to life. Meanwhile, the unwavering yellow eyes light up the black water, watching— me.

Your tentacle, I think. Can the kraken die from a gunshot wound? I don't think it can; it looks so powerful— but I'm worried all the same. Are you okay? Are you— hurt?

But all the kraken does is stare.

My lungs are starting to ache painfully, reminding me of other current problems. Air, I mouth. The kraken just looks at me with its big, yellow eyes. I'm dying.

A single tentacles undulates towards me, and fear flickers through my oxygen-deprived brain. I kick away, but my limbs feel leaden. I think my body is slowly starting to shut down. Isn't that what happens when you hit your head to hard? Or when you're about to die?

I hope that whole life-flashing-before-your-eyes thing doesn't happen to me. I don't need to see how disappointing my short existence has been.

The tentacle wraps around my wrist, and I gasp in pain. An explosion of bubbles escapes from my mouth and races towards the surface. Heat sears through my arm. I try to swim away, but I can't even see straight anymore— black spots are fizzling and sparking in front of my eyes— and my entire body is screaming in desperation as the lack of air becomes too much to bear. Blood seeps into the lake around my arm. Twisting swirls of crimson highlight the black water. The tentacle tightens, and I feel a crunch— not bone, but my plastic watch. The clock face must have shattered under the pressure. Is the kraken trying to drown me to get revenge on Owen for shooting it?

Or does the kraken really have a perchance for ripping off arms, and now it's going to do to me exactly what it did to Emory?

The kraken draws me closer into its embrace.

And then... something strange happens.

I look down at my wrist. It's oozing blood, but it doesn't hurt anymore. I don't think it was meant to hurt me in the first place.

I exhale, and air bubbles expand from my mouth. Air— I'm breathing again! I'm meters below the surface of the lake, and I'm breathing. Oxygen floods into my body. The haze in my head clears, and I blink black spots from my vision. I'm breathing. It's impossible, but I'm breathing.

The kraken turns its yellow eye on me. Like it wants something from me.

Like it wants me to understand.