Alright, fuck it. Hereâs an unedited first draft of a web series I was writing. Feel free to point edits or make suggestions for how to rewrite this story. Enjoy.
Char always wondered what was at the bottom of the sea.
When he wasnât busy helping his father pull massive nets of fish from its depths, he would often stare into the dark waters and imagine giant squids and crabs waging massive battles that would reshape the ocean floor. Sometimes, he wondered if the fables his father told him about underwater cities were real.
Of course, Char had to be careful when he went into these daydreams. The other guys on his fatherâs ship gave him shit if they caught him fading from reality on the job. One of them, Figgis, would punch him in the arm when he wasnât paying attention. It was all in good fun but Figgis knew how to lay into him.
âDaydreaming again shit head?â Figgis said, nudging Char as he walked past. âWhat is it about this time?â
âFucking your mom, Figgis,â Char replied. It was a shitty joke but it was the best he could come up with.
âLanguage,â he could hear his father scream from the shipâs control room.
âYeah bitch, watch your language,â Figgis replied. Char couldnât help himself from laughing, despite his fatherâs disapproval.
As the ship, about the size of half a football field, swayed, Char listened to the waves thump against the hull. He closed his eyes and tried to match his breathing with the sway of the ship. As the seconds passed, he could hear the sound of his father coming up beside him.
âWhat was it this time?â he asked Char.
âAhhhh, I love the sea battle fantasy. Yâknow, they used to make movies like those daydreams you have?â
âYeah. You tell me at least three or four times a week,â Char laughed.
âHmmm,â his dad said, scratching the gray beard. âI ever show you one of them?â
âHow would we be able to watch one?
âMaybe I know an old war buddy that could hook us up with a projector,â he replied.
âOh sure, itâs not like a projector is high tech stuff,â his father said. âWe donât have to go to one of the sky cities to get it, though.â
âThat would be amazing,â Char looked at his father. His black hair faintly shined in the light, sweat from a long day's work. Char was taller than his dad and often cracked jokes about it.
âIâm thinking we watch an old Kaiju film,â he said, scratching his chin.
âAn old old old film about a giant monster that fights other giant monsters,â he said looking out into the sea. âItâs amazing, me and your mother used to watch them all the time.â
Char rested his head on his hands.
Charâs dad looked out to sea. After a few sways of the ship, he rested his hand on Charâs back.
Suddenly, an alarm began to ring, let everyone on the ship know a large school of fish was near. As the last ring echoed across the water, the shipâs seven-man crew prepared to go fishing.
Char sighed, taking one last look into the water, wondering if heâd ever been able to explore the ocean. He tucked the thought away and returned to his position operating the shipâs crane. As he climbed the nearly one-story metal pillar that overlooked the ship, painted a dull olive that blended with the ocean, he examined the shipâs condition. There were nicks and rust that decorated the paint, small indents in the floor of the ship where Char accidentally dropped heavy objects served as reminders of how not ro operate the crane. Char felt like all of this added to the shipâs character, though his father would disagree.
He couldnât believe that this machine served a different purpose twenty years ago. Built at the height of the Last War, it was used to salvage abandoned war suits, robots as tall as skyscrapers that used to roam the earth. When war suits were outlawed, these ships were no longer necessary to some countries and they were auctioned off.
The hull of the ship was made of dense metal and was fitted with propellers on the front and back. Everything, including the crane, was air sealed and had its own air supply, just in case the ship tipped over.
âSCHOOL INCOMING,â his father yelled from the shipâs control room.
Ever since the war, industries like the fishing business had been booming. Most of the planetâs livestock came from the sea after the war nearly destroyed half the planet. Before his father pulled him out of school, Char learned about what happened in his history class, though the exact details always eluded him. He tended not to think about it too much because he rarely had time to do so.
Reaching the top of the crane, he remembered that there was an air tank that sat just above the cockpit door. He cursed, nearly hitting his head on it, it was one of the only things they couldnât remove from it. The ship was so old, he wasnât even sure there was air left. Sitting down in the operator seat, he strapped himself in and sealed the cockpit.
Char could see the small crew of men tighten their grasp on ropes that controlled a net on the side of the ship. In just a few minutes, they would begin wrestling with it as the shipâs speed made the fish hit the back of the net like tiny meteors. It wasnât an easy job but none of the men seemed to complain since the pay was so good.
âCHAR GET READY,â he heard his father scream.
Almost without thinking, he moved the long yellow arm of the crane over to the net. Char waited there for a few minutes until he saw his father swing his arm, signaling to lower the crane and grab the net. When it latched on, it began to raise, showing that it was now filled with what looked like a million pounds of fish.
Char turned the crane and moved the net over a hidden pit that would keep the fish fresh until then got back to shore. Once the pit opened, he dropped the net with the flick of the wrist and watched the men begin removing the fish from the apparatus. He watched for a few minutes before stretching out in the cockpit.
This was the fourth catch of the day and he knew after this it would be time to return home. It wasnât tedious work but it was tiring because they needed to wake up as soon as the sun rose. Father told him it was to catch the fish off guard though. He hated to admit it, but he was bored and hated helping his dad.
He closed his eyes and dozed off, listening to the sound of the crew begin preparations for returning home. Eventually his breathing slowed and he began dreaming about sea monsters fighting in the ocean once more.
When he woke up, it was as if the dream followed him into real life. Dark clouds ambushed the ship and a fierce rain began pelting the crew. He could hear his father screaming for him to wake up.
The rain hit the craneâs cockpit like hail, loudly thumping against the glass. Like the rest of the shipâs small crew, Char was caught off guard. He always checked the weather forecast for the day before going out to see and it never said anything about a violent rain.
Then something hit the side of the ship, forcing it to rock violently.
Char turned around in his seat to see if everyone was okay. He strained his eyes to see the small group of men huddled over the side of the ship. He noticed one of them, a small portly man that they nicknamed Chubz, was waving his arms frantically. Instantly, Char understood what happened and hit a big red button on the control board on top of the cockpit.
The shipâs giant bell began ringing and every light on the medium-sized vessel turned on as its crew began searching for a man overboard.
Char started to get out of the cockpit but his father signaled him to stay in the crane. He understood why, with the rain beating down as hard as it was, one wrong step, and he couldâve snapped his neck on the way down. So he sat back down, helplessly watching as his father and the crew attempted to rescue the man now floating in the sea.
He sat in the cockpit for what felt like millennia watching. The ship rocked three more times as if it just scraped across solid land. Char could feel his heart pounding out of his chest as he struggled to catch his breath.
Straining his eyes once more, he looked toward where the group was huddled, his father was now down there helping out with a rescue rope. Other than that though, it was no use, he couldnât tell what the hell was going on from his vantage point. Wanting to help, he began to unbuckle himself when his eyes caught the shadow of something massive looking at them.
He saw two red eyes, cutting through the black clouds.
An aging man dressed in a dark military uniform looked down at the monitors tracking his creationâs progress. So far, its vitals looked normal and the only abnormality was that its weather shroud systems were putting out a little more energy than he would have liked.
He made a mental note to find out what was causing the energy surge later.
For now, he was focused on the task at hand. This was the fourth system test for the machine he lovingly dubbed âChimera,â it was also the most important. Being one of the first machines of its kind, he needed to test how it fared in intense weather conditions, especially if its creating them.
But this was more than a motion test for the behemoth.
âGet ready,â he told the man standing next to him. The man began typing commands in the monitor in front of him, without giving much thought about what was going to happen next.
At first, Char thought it was just an illusion.
Because of the tense situation, his eyes decided to play tricks on him. After rubbing them gently with his fists, realized it was real. Something was out there, looking at them.
For a few minutes, Char sat there looking at it, trying to figure out what it possibly could have been. Brief glimpses of light revealed its size. It looked like it had arms, or two large things sticking out of its back. He turned around to see if the commotion outside was settled, hoping that someone else saw what he saw.
It was no use, the fierce waves and rain required his father and the crew to solely focus on rescuing the man. He saw three men hoisting a rope back up to the ship, his father holding a blanket for the sailor. Soon heâd be out of one nightmare and into another.
Char felt helpless, how could he be the only one looking at the thing on the horizon. When would someone else notice? That question was quickly answered when a blood-curdling howl pierced through the chaos. Like metal crunching and twisting against each other- so loud that only the deaf would miss it.
Everyone stood silently as they watched the outline of the best move towards them. Charâs heart felt like it was buried under the ocean floor, his mouth felt like he had been sucking on cotton balls.
Eventually, the monster stopped.
Then something began to grow just to the right of the monster's eyes. A red ball of light, at first the size of a penny, growing on the beastâs shoulder. Char leaned in his chair to see what it could be but he had no idea. Slowly, the ball grew and grew and kept growing until it was more like the size of a small planet.
From below, Char could hear his father issuing commands to the crew. Figgis looked as if he was throwing metal crates containing the day's catch overboard. Chubz helped by throwing shovel loads of their most recent catches overboard. He could feel a slight shift in the boatâs movement, were they turning around, Char wondered?
It was too late. By the time the boat began changing course, another howl boomed, rattling the ocean. The ball of light was now pointed directly at them. He could see two red eyes pierce through the night sky. Char felt as if the eyes of God were staring back at him and all he could do was tremble.
The nightâs sky lit up as if fireworks traveled at the speed of light. The ball of light zoomed passed the small ship but Char could feel the heat from the beam that followed it. It was as if the sun crashed into the Earth. Being in the cockpit, Char felt like he was being cooked alive for a few minutes before the beam disappeared.
As the beam disappeared into the ocean, the ship rocked violently as the seas began to shift. Char looked to see his father, hanging on to one of the shipâs poles, terror painted on his face. Only three of the shipâs crew could be visible. The ship began to tilt in the direction the beam passed them. It made twisted howls and screams as it moved.
It happened slowly at first, then all at once. The water consumed the ship, swallowing Charâs father and crew including Figgis and Chubz. He watched as his dad extended his arm out to the ship.
âPLEASE GOD NO,â Char screamed at the top of his lungs as he watched the ship go under. He screamed until his voice went hoarse and he could taste something metallic. A few more minutes and he began coughing from overexerting his vocal cords. It felt like he was drowning in the cockpit, watching his father wash away with all of the darkness of the ocean.
He sat there in silence, listening to the water pressure slowly squeeze the specialized metal protecting him. He could hear the air tank system slowly release and filter the oxygen filling the cockpit. Charâs head felt like it was on fire, he couldnât stop thinking about watching his father die - either by drowning or being crushed by the sea.
He felt like screaming. He felt like crying. No matter what he did though, the tears wouldnât come and his throat still hurt. The ocean was darker than he imagined it would be. The fish he did see swam up and around the former salvage ship. It was like a drop in a bucket of water, small and insignificant.
A few more minutes passed until he realized that eventually, the pressure of the ocean would crush the ship with him in it. Of course, he also wasnât sure how much time he had in his oxygen tank. He looked around the cockpit, trying to appreciate the memories he and his father made on the ship.
The first time he ever set foot on it was when they picked it up from his fatherâs old military palâs scrapyard. The look on his face made it seem like we had just hit the jackpot, which in a way he guessed they did. After a few months of refurbishing it and repairing the damage, they enlisted a crew and began fishing.
Char no longer cared about what was hiding beneath the waters. He knew that whatever could be down here paled in comparison to what was up there. He closed his eyes and began saying a prayer as the light from the surface got darker and darker. The red eyes of god seared holes into his brain though and suddenly, Char felt a jolt of adrenaline.
He didnât want to die and was willing to do whatever it took to climb back to the surface. He grabbed the controls of the crane and started frantically looking around to form a plan. As the ship began to compress more and more, he searched for something, anything he could grab on to with the shipâs arm.
The ship continued to compress until Char could hear the metal hull start to crack. Then, as if something from below heard the prayers he couldnât say, Char saw the dark outline of something within earshot of him.
It was muscle memory that took over next. Char slowly swiveled the crane toward the outline and began to extend the arm. As the crane reached out into the vast unknown, doubt raced across his mind. How far down has he sunk?
THUMP. CUUUHHHHSHHHHHHHH.
His fatherâs ship began to drift slowly toward the underwater cliff Char had caught on to. Despite feeling like he was floating the entire time, the ship rocketed to one side and slammed into the rock formations. Char hit his head on the side of the cockpit, forgetting to buckle back up after trying to get out to help the crew.
He gently touched the top of his head and felt something warm coming from it. The ship no longer sounded like it was compressing. A wave of relief ironically washed over Char as he slowly dozed off into a black haze. He did not know if help would come, but for now, he was tired.
He didnât even notice the tears gently running down his cheek.
The man stood peering over the observation deck, watching the burst of pure energy disintegrate the area near the small fishing ship. Â As the seas parted and swallowed the ship, he wrote something down in his notes. He had not planned for a human trial of his weapon but the data he gathered was too valuable to ignore.
âWhat do we do, should we send a crew to look for wreckage?â
âNo, thereâs no need to waste time here. Turn the Chimera around, I think weâre ready for the next phase.â
The sun beat down on Char as he opened his eyes from his long slumber. It took him a few minutes to realize that somehow he was on dry land, the arm of the crane sticking directly into the land. He turned over onto his back to catch his breath and remembered hitting his head. Checking to see if it was okay, he cringed in pain as he felt the small gash that had since clotted and dried. It wasnât ideal, but it wasnât life-threatening.
Readjusting himself, he quickly scanned his surroundings. Black sharp rocks surrounded him as he laid, suspended two stories above the ground. Any chance for escape on his own was nonexistent.
âWell fuck,â he said under his breath. He quietly apologized to his dad for swearing and felt warm tears swell in his eyes.
As the hours passed, the waves crashed against the jagged outer rock formation of the stone island. Char wondered if this mass had been here before. If that were true, was his father still alive?
He laid on his back for what seemed like hours when he heard a strange sound coming from the distance. He slowly turned around on the glass to make sure he didnât upset it and fall through. It took him a few minutes to see what looked like four dots cutting through the water growing larger. They were coming toward him.
Char closed his eyes and tried to get some rest. Whatever was coming meant he wouldnât get sleep for a long time. There would no doubt be swaths of people interested to know what happened to him, his father, the crew and the ship.
After a short slumber, he woke to four metal machines that looked like dragons the way they got thicker in their midsection and tapered off again by the tail. They also had sharp sets of fins on the top of their heads going halfway down their spins and another set on their tails.
One of dragonâs heads popped open and a pilot, whose face was covered by a helmet stepped out and tried calling out to Char. It was no use, not only was the cockpit door still sealed, Char lacked the strength to comprehend what was happening.
The pilot noticed this, said something to the radio attached to his shoulder, and jumped down. The machine to the left of him started moving toward Char. They planned to use the mechanical dragon as a link between the ground and the crane.
He could hear the other pilot try to call out to him to move but Char was frozen.
He could feel something gurgling in his stomach but it wasnât food or vomit. He tried to think of what it was but the pain in his head slowly crept back as the initial adrenaline of everything began losing its potency.
It took ten minutes for the bridge to be completed and one of the pilots to meet Char face to face. They may have well-been astronauts from a different planet, it felt like they were speaking a different language to him. He was scared, he missed his father and now he got the feeling that he wouldnât be going home anytime soon.
The pilot reached his hand out. The sound came crashing back into Charâs ears.
âItâs okay,â the pilot said. âWeâll take you somewhere safe.â
Reaching out, Char grabbed the pilot's hands and exited the crane. Eventually, the adrenaline would subside and the weight of the world returned to him. The  machine slowly retracted from the cockpit and Char could see what happened.
The ship was torn to pieces, bits and parts thrown around the black rock formations that engulfed the cockpit. When the machine lowered its head, one of the pilots came to him and shined a light into Charâs eyes. He could here the group talk to eachother through the radios.
âThere are no other signs of life.â
âJesus christ, how big is this land mass?â
âHow far off from the coast is this?
âWhat do we do with the kid?â a voice asked through one of the pilotâs radios.
âTake him to Vector 3.â
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