Jaws of Terror

25th of July, 20XX
To whoever finds this,

It happened so fast, none of the guys were prepared for it. One by one, it took them away. It was terrifying, truly terrifying.

I’m writing this under the desk of the captain’s room. I locked the door to the cabin but it’s only a matter of time until she manages to break open the door… or she just sinks the boat to get me.
The latter seems more likely. However, before that happens, I want to tell you my story. I need to tell you our story. So you know what happened here.

Me and five of my friends decided to go on a fishing trip a few weeks back. Prepared everything we needed for it: rods, bait, a boat etc.
Everything was going fairly well. We had a jolly ol’ time until the sun went down and the moon rose up in the starry night sky.
What did we do then? Well, obviously, we downed a couple of beers and enjoyed ourselves.

But Dirk? He really got piss drunk, that lightweight. Started spouting nonsense too, one thing led to another and, before we realized it, he took off his shirt, his pants, basically everything besides his underwear and dived into the dark ocean below.
Upon seeing that, we got a little worried and quickly got up and ran towards the rail of the boat, wanting to see what happened to the burly drunkard. To our relief, he seemed to have retained his aptitude in swimming even during his stupor. And so, we merely laughed once he pretended to be drowning, only to resurface a few moments later.
He played that trick a total of three times before it got old. As he approached the latter attached to the boat, ready to climb back out, he slipped and fell back into the endless blue yet he didn’t come back up. We sighed at his shenanigans, yet quickly shouted that he should stop playing around and get back on the boat.

He never did. At first, we thought it was a prank from one of the aquatic girls. After all, they were known for their tasteless pranks on fishermen. However, upon closer inspection, our faces changed, becoming ones of fear. On the spot where Dirk once slipt, there was only a puddle of blood. Panicking, we wondered what we should do, however, in that instant, Jonathan took off his flippers, grabbed and tossed a lifeline into the water and dived into the unknown depths below.

10 seconds passed.
We watched the spot from which he disappeared into the abyss.

30 seconds passed.
Little bubbles of air came from underneath the surface.

1 minute passed.
The bubbles had stopped.

1 minute and thirty seconds passed.
Jonathan came back up.

1 minute and thirty-two seconds passed.
Terrified, he started screaming.

1 minutes and forty-five seconds passed.
He tried to swim back to the boat.

1 minute and fifty seconds passed.
Something was trying to pull him under. He struggled. It was too powerful, he was pulled down.

1 minute and fifty-five seconds passed.
The water was moving violently, big air bubbles appearing on the surface.

2 minutes passed.
The bubbles stopped.

2 minutes and thirty seconds passed.
The surface remained still, with the exception of small waves rocking the boat from side to side.

3 minutes passed.
A pool of blood formed where Jonathan disappeared.

5 minutes passed.
We hurried to the deck.

6 minutes passed.
We tried the start the engine and get out of there, scared out of our wits.

10 minutes passed.
The engine was dead.

15 minutes passed.
We realized our situation. We were stranded on the ocean.
With a monster lurking underneath us.
At that point.
Four of us remained.

The next morning, the water was calm, too calm.
The blood left from the others had already dissipated.
It was time to come out with a plan.
A plan which would get us out of that mess.

With a whole day of careful preparation, we were finally ready to depart from the boat.
Well, at least one of us was. That was the plan, to send one man out to get help. It was our only option. Our phones lost signal a long time ago
And with that, we drew straws. The short one would be the so-called, ‘sacrificial lamb’.
Richard ended up pulling that one. We loaded up the boat and sent him on his way.
He managed to row the boat about 30 meters away.
Then it jumped out of the water. We had finally seen the appearance of our monster for the first time.
And boy, was monster the polar opposite of what it actually was.

Her upper half was that of a buxom woman. Bangs of cyan hair covered her eyes but not her grin, her white, sharp-teethed grin. Her cleavage was something one could lose themselves in, yet her round and seemingly firm dèrriere would inspire a strong desire to grab and caress it.
She was true beauty, although, the white and blue skin pointed at her inhuman nature.
That, and the fin on her back along with the tail was dead giveaway. It wasn’t that hard to figure it out.

In the instant she appeared, she was already gone and so was Richard.
Only a pool of blood remained.

That plan had failed.
Three of us remained.

The provisions we brought along were finished at the end of the fourth day. We resumed our fishing, it was the only way to gather food. Yet, the bait had too end soon too. We all knew that. However, we didn’t expect it to happen that way. 

It was Roger’s turn when it happened. After hours of waiting, something finally took the bait, we were elated. However, it had quite the force, the little guy. Almost managed to snap the line in two. Almost. God, how I wish it did, because what followed was truly disheartening.

It pulled him in, it managed to pull him into the water. And, just like the others, what remained of him was nothing but a pool of blood. When that happened, we realized it wasn’t a fish that took the bait, but we did. The sharkgirl outsmarted us and thus…

Just the two of us remained.

On the dawn of the fifth day, Bob finally snapped. Without food or fresh water, along with the constant fear of being the next one to fall into that sea of death, he couldn’t take it anymore.

He took all of his clothes off, except for his underwear, I guess he was still considerate of the person next to him, and went to the edge of the ship. He stared at his reflection, perhaps trying to see past it, into the depths below, to try and see what happened to the ones before him. I went up to him, trying to reason with him. Yet, that was of no use, as a pair of golden eyes stared straight back at him from the darkness below, getting brighter and brighter as they approached. The moment a petite hand reached out and took hold of the ladder, I couldn’t look anymore and returned to my seat.

The last I thing I saw of Bob was him sharing a passionate kiss with the creature that murdered our friends. At that moment, I felt sickened by his actions. Alas, that lasted for only a moment indeed, for his neck was soon encircled by the monster’s hand and he followed the steps of the ones before him. 

To be reduced to just a pool of blood.

Yet, after all of this, I remain.

When I saw it though, a question popped up in mind. Has it truly been just a single monster who picked us off one after another? That question is, however, irrelevant.

Today is the sixth day. Six full days have I spent cowering in fear. Six full days have I watched as the ones close to me have been taken away by a monster.  By a bloodthirsty fiend. Yet, I have been powerless to do anything about it.

But not now. I had come to a resolution. If I’m going down, I’ll take it down with me. I’ll have my revenge. Mark my God damn words.

As such, the story reaches the present, I am writing this letter for whoever may find it. I am writing this letter so our story will not be forgotten. I am writing this letter to give you a warning. Do not come into the Amity Bay. Do not search for me. And, above all else. Never go onto the sea alone.

I just heard something hopping on the boat. Might as well go and look before I throw this message.

How is this possible. This doesn’t make any sense. No… it actually does. There was never just a single one of them. There were always six. How could I have been so foolish. I can’t take them down. We never could have.

They’ve seen me. Oh boy, they’ve seen me. They’re coming closer. They’re in front of the door. They’re… smiling?

I guess this is the end. I hope you learned something from my experience. -Anon

P.S. In retrospect, the black guy died at the beginning, what a cliché.

σн, ∂σєѕη’т нє נυѕт нανє α ωιℓ∂ ιмαﻭιηαтιση? тнιηкιηﻭ σƒ υѕ αѕ мσηѕтєяѕ, нσω вα∂. ωє σηℓу ωαηтє∂ тσ ﻭєт тσ кησω тнєм вєттєя, ιт’ѕ ησт συя ƒαυℓт тнαт тнєιя ѕкιη ιѕ ѕσ ƒяαﻭιℓє. ιт’ѕ тнєιя ƒαυℓт ƒσя ﻭєттιηﻭ υѕ ѕσ ιη тнє мσσ∂ ƒσя вιтιηﻭ! ммм~ ι ¢αη’т ωαιт тσ ƒιηιѕн ωяιтιηﻭ тнιѕ ѕσ ι ¢αη ﻭσ вα¢к тσ нιм. нє’ѕ ѕσ α∂σяαвℓє ωнєη нє’ѕ ѕтяυﻭﻭℓιηﻭ! тнσυﻭн, нιѕ ℓιттℓє ƒяιєη∂ѕ ωєяє мυ¢н мσяє ωιℓℓιηﻭ ωнєη тнєу ﻭσт υѕє∂ тσ υѕ, нєнє~ αт αηу яαтє, ρℓєαѕє ¢σмє αη∂ νιѕιт υѕ, ωє ѕιѕтєяѕ тяυℓу ηєє∂ ѕσмє мσяє ℓσνє, єѕρє¢ιαℓℓу тнє σηєѕ ωнι¢н нανє уєт тσ вє ∂єƒιℓє∂! ι’м ησт σηє тσ ¢σмρℓαιη, тнσυﻭн, ﻭσт муѕєℓƒ ۹υιтє тнє ¢αт¢н тнιѕ тιмє, ι тнιηк ι’м ﻭσιηﻭ тσ кєєρ нιм… яємємвєя, ωє αяє ℓσηєℓу, ωιℓℓιηﻭ αη∂ ωєт, ѕσ, ¢σмє αη∂ נσιη υѕ!!!

23 votes, average: 4.39 out of 523 votes, average: 4.39 out of 523 votes, average: 4.39 out of 523 votes, average: 4.39 out of 523 votes, average: 4.39 out of 5 (23 votes, average: 4.39 out of 5)
You need to be a registered member to rate this post.

5 thoughts on “Jaws of Terror

  1. If I didn’t know better and were in this situation, I’d probably be scared out of mind as well.

    Great job on the first part. If I showed this to anyone who didn’t know about Shark-girls, then they probably would think this was some kind of horror story.

  2. Typos:
    > took of his flippers

    > the black guy died at the beginning
    Bullshit, everyone knows black people don’t swim

    > The moment a petite hand reached out and took ahold of the letter
    He wasn’t writing the letter at this point, was he? The shark was reaching out to Bob?

    How did he write the end of that letter when the six mersharks were already on the boat? And why did they throw the letter out anyway?

    Nevertheless, I still enjoyed this.

    1. > took of his flippers
      > Bullshit, everyone knows black people don’t swim
      Oy, remember the Eel.
      > The moment a petite hand reached out and took ahold of the letter.
      Fixed. Wrote letter instead of ladder, the fuck is wrong with me.
      > How did he write the end of that letter when the six mersharks were already on the boat?
      Oh, should’ve mentioned that he never got out of the captain’s cabin, right?
      > And why did they throw the letter out anyway?
      Eh, just used the excuse that they wouldn’t have bothered with Anon’s part of the letter and just wrote theirs, an invitation and all of that.

      Actually, on second thought, Anon might’ve tried to convince them to throw the letter out, just so his message could reach someone.
      Should’ve probably thought this out beforehand.

Leave a Reply