Drip

I couldn’t divert my eyes. I couldn’t. Or, I wouldn’t. I didn’t dare to because it would be the end. I watched the Nephilim tower over the underwater canyon. Other aquatic beasts moved for them. They cleared the way for them, shoving the tinier denizens like swimming snowplows. 

The water bubbled with every movement the Nephilim took. The ground shook violently and caused me to have to correct myself or else I’d be joining the other dead. Parts of their bodies whipped off like they were made of smoke but moved purposely to capture their meals in the form of whales and younger versions of themselves. Their tentacles curled at the ends and swiped at any foolish shark or demon that tried to scurry by. 

They hadn’t noticed me. I didn’t move. I tried to pause my blood or temporarily stop my heart just in case they might hear. I made sure the air tube behind wasn’t going to snag, iron gripped the recording case. Every time the bubbles churned from my suit, my fear grew. 

The Nephilim walked by. I breathed out in relief. But time reversed, and I was back at the beginning, where two of them sauntered across the ocean floor, heads skimming the sunlight peaking through the tide. 

I couldn’t divert my eyes. I couldn’t. Or, I wouldn’t. I didn’t dare to because it would be the end. 

For us all. 

 

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