Speaker 1: Last month, I took a long break and went on vacation.
I'm a sporny guy who loves adventure, especially scuba diving.
I booked a trip to a quiet island that seemed
like the perfect way to start over. I hadn't had
a real vacation in years. There was only me, the waves,
and silence. The clouds were low and heavy on the
morning of the dive, but the weather report said they
would clear up by noon. I wasn't too worried, as
it wasn't my first time. When I told the man
at the dive shop I was going alone, he raised
an eyebrow, but I didn't care. I thought I knew
what I was up to. The currents had gotten stronger.
By the time I got fifteen meters down. The water,
which had been clear blue, was now cloudy. I hovered
for a moment, trying to figure out where I was,
but the pressure changed and the waves above pulled harder
than usual. My stomach turned and I realized I needed
to get out of the wall. The world underwent a
transformation as I broke through the ocean's surface. The sky
above me was covered in thick, boiling clouds, and the
wind was howling already. The rain drops hit my face
like needles. I had no idea that the storm would
come so quickly. I was experienced enough to know that
the boat was supposed to pick me up that already
left had gone back to the marina. Taking a quick
look around, I figured out I wasn't far from shore,
but the beach I had come up on was a
quiet stretch I didn't know. As I swam to shore,
the waves hit me. I crawled up onto the wet beach,
sand grinding between my teeth. I was standing in a circle,
soaking wet. There were no humans in that area, just
the jungles and jagged cliffs, and at some distance a cave.
The palm trees and windblown shadows half covered the cave,
hidden behind a bend in the cliffs. A lightning crack
cracked behind me, numbing my ears, and I ran to
the cave. It was cool and dry inside. The storm's
noise faded into a low ground. As I ran my
hand through my wet hair, I just stood at the
entry point, catching my breath and thanking God for this
unexpected shelter. The storm grew louder, and I probably spent
half an hour just watching the high tides. The water
in my dive suit was cold and stuck to my skin.
It was getting very boring to wait like that. Hence
I got curious. I turned on the light on my
helmet and set out to explore the cave. The cave
extended further than I had anticipated, and the walls were
covered in moss and weeds. There were strange patterns on
the stone. I couldn't tell if they were carvings or
just natural phenomena. As I went deeper, the silence became strange.
There weren't even sounds of water dripping or birds chirping.
The only sound I could hear was my breathing. It
seemed like no one had been here in a long time.
I was casually looking around when I saw a man
sitting on a large rock. My flashlight illuminated him well
enough to get a good look from the distance. There
was a slight tilt to his head, suggesting that he
was either sleeping or meditating. Thinking I found some company,
I yelled, hey, no answer. I got closer, Are you okay?
I could see his body move. He lifted his head,
and in that moment I felt weird. His face was
not right. His lips were cracked and blackened, and his
skin was pale. His wide eyes were tired and sunken.
Yet he smiled at me. He raised his arm and
gave a lazy, casual wave before collapsing onto the stone floor.
I stopped. There was something very, very wrong. What if
he's sick? What if he needs help? I took a
few steps forward, Dude, are you hurt? When I got
close enough to touch him, his body jerked up like
a puppet. He looked at me and started coughing. I
can't even explain how horrific it was to watch him
like that. He wasn't just coughing air. He was coughing blood.
His chest heaved with wheezing coughs, sending more blood flying
across the stone floor. This continued for five to ten seconds.
Then he stopped and began laughing like a maniac. I
stumbled back in fear. There was blood all over his face,
his teeth were red. He kept laughing, as if something
inside him had broken and made him happy at the
same time. That was the last straw for me. I
sprinted at full speed, leaving the guy behind me. I
turned around one last time, and he was waving at me,
sitting on the ground like nothing happened. As I emerged
from the cave, the storm struck me with the force
of a wall. The rain was pouring down and the
lightning was crashing, but I didn't care. The outside felt
safer than the cave. In that moment, I ran all
the way to the resort, shaking and wet. Since then,
I haven't gone scuba diving alone. People say that diving
is like flying underwater. The calm, weightlessness feeling is like magic,
but no one mentions how quickly peace can turn to fear,
or how the ocean can decide you're not coming back.
We dropped anchor just off the reef, and the morning
sun made the water look like glass. I got off
the boat last, following the group. I preferred being alone,
even under water. The reef and the slow poll of
the sea were all I could see. I leveled off
at eighteen meters down. The gauge was fine, the air
pressure was good, and my breathing was steady. I floated
near a jagged coral reef and watched a lionfish move
through the water like a ghost. But suddenly things changed.
The change occurred not around me, but within me. The
next breath I took tasted wrong. It was more like
sucking on a penny wrapped in cotton candy. The taste
is akin to that of metal, with a sickening sweetness.
I blinked, confused and looked at my gauge again. I
couldn't tell any difference. I tapped the valve on the
tank and it was still safe. Suddenly I experienced nausea.
My chest got tight and it was difficult to take
a full breath. I looked around, but I couldn't find
my die Boddy anywhere. My vision began to blur, with
the edges getting darker. There was something awfully wrong. I
tried to stay calm as I reached for my BCD inflator.
I remembered the training lesson about how panicking only uses
up oxygen, but it felt like my hands were not mine.
They felt heavy and numb. My thoughts were all mixed up,
slow and sticky. The sea around me warped with colors
that were too bright and edges that were too sharp.
Then I realized I was passing out. I kicked upward
and pulled on my buoyancy control device. My ears screamed
in protest as I went up too quickly, but I
didn't care. I needed to breathe. I had to get out.
The world turned black about six meters below the surface.
The next thing I knew, someone was yelling my name.
The dive boat pulled me over its side while I
coughed and threw up sea water. I felt like someone
inserted razor blades inside my ears. I couldn't hear anything
apart from a low, steady ringing. Later, the divemaster told
me that I must have passed out and floated the
rest of the way up. The crew didn't understand how
I managed to avoid drowning. They told me I was lucky,
but I didn't feel lucky. I felt like I was
being haunted. The doctors said that both ear drums had burst.
I would never be able to dive again. It hurt,
but not as much as not knowing. There was no
unpleasant air for anyone else. There's no problem with the equipment.
My tank only has a clean mix of oxygen. Then
what went wrong? I couldn't sleep that night. I kept
seeing the lionfish, which looked like it was waiting for something.
I kept tasting that metallic sugar, and hearing the ocean
whisper things I couldn't quite make out. That night, I
had the most horrible dream ever. In the dreams, I
found myself back at a depth of eighteen meters. The
wreath was dead and had glossed all of its color.
Fishes were hanging still, looking at me with bulging eyes.
Something was moving in the dark, but it was not
a shark. It was worse than that, something with too
many arms and mouths. I could feel it watching me,
waiting for me. I turned around to swim away, but
met my face staring back at me, floating at a distance.
The mouth was open and screaming, but no bubbles came up.
Gasping for air. I woke up, my lungs burning and
my sweats soaking the sheets. My night terrors got worse,
and I was sure something came up from down with me.
Even in the daytime, when the taps were off, I
could hear water dripping in my apartment. Weeks later, when
I finally learned to cope with the trauma, I went
back to the boat for one last look. The captain
knew who I was, so he recognized me immediately. He
gave me a tight smile that offered some comfort. You
were very close to the edge, he said, What do
you mean? He paused for a second. There are many
stories about the coral reef. Many divers reported seeing things
and hearing unusual sounds. People say it's the stress, perhaps
it's the nitrogen narcosis, but some others He stopped talking,
others what he finally met my gaze. They say that
when you go too deep into the sea, it takes
something from you, and occasionally it gives you something back.
His words sent a chill down my back. I left
without saying goodbye. I don't get close to the water anymore,
but there are times when I close my eyes and
eighteen meters down again. I'm tired of reliving that memory deliberately.
I really hope that sharing my story will ease my
burden and allow me to resume my normal life. Until then,
I'm not going close to the ocean ever again. Hi.
I'm Thomas, recently turned fifteen. I just got back from
a family trip to Hawaii. Sounds wonderful, right, but most
of it was just my parents relaxing at the resort
and drinking wine. Like their lives depended on it. We
had been there for three nights and I was so bored.
While Mom and Dad worked on their second or third bottle,
I sat on a lounge chair and poked at a
plate of pineapple slices. The sky was changing colors with
the dying sun, and the private beach below looked like
a picture. The calm waves in the afternoon light made
me to explore for a little while. I told my
parents that I was going to go scuba diving, which
was the main reason I agreed to come on this trip.
They nodded without thinking, raising their glasses as if that
was a sign of good luck. I picked up my
stuff and jogged down the path to the beach. The
sunlight made the waves look golden. The beach was completely empty.
I put on my mask, flippers, and oxygen tank and
waded into the warm water. The world changed below. It
was quiet and still. Scolls of tiny fish moved past
me like dancers, and sink and coral reefs reached up
to the surface like castles in the water. It was
the first time since I got there that I felt calm,
like I wasn't just the extra kid on my parents's
wine tasting trip. After a while, I floated back to
the top and took off my gear. I wanted to
relax on the warm sand for a few minutes before
going back. I lay down on the sand and took
a deep breath. Just when I had started thinking life
can be beautiful, I saw someone on the beach. A
man was walking towards me. He was fat, bald in
the middle, with stringy gray hairs hanging onto the scalop.
He wore a bright red Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned at the top,
revealing his hairy chest. His flip flops gave him a
little difficulty walking on the sand, but he managed somehow.
He looked at me and waved, not in the hey
another beach goer way, more like I see you way.
I ignored him, but he sat down right next to me,
giving me a smile, like we were old buddies. You
enjoy water sports, Huh yeah, I said, quietly, turning a
little away. I used to swim like that when I
was your age. His voice was rough and wet, like
something bubbling up from deep inside his throat. I nodded
in a polite way. He might leave if I didn't
say much. I thought he didn't are you here with
your family? This big hotel must cost a lot of money.
You're lucky. His smile never reached his eyes. They kept
looking at me with hidden intentions. Listening to him, I
realized he isn't staying at the resort, and that beach
is private as far as I knew. But still I
would rather not be rude, so I decided to leave.
I should probably go back. He suddenly took hold of
my wrist. His sweaty palm made my skin crawl. Oh,
leave it already. I was just getting to know you. Yeah, well,
I'm not interested in knowing you, so leave my hand.
That's when his grip got tighter. Why are you being rude,
I'm just trying to be your friend. Let go of me,
I yelled and started pulling my arm. His fingers dug
in deeper, squeezing like a vice. You kids these days,
no manners, not respect. He leaned in closer, still smiling,
and his breath was warm and sour on my cheek.
Come on, sit with me for a while. I finally
freaked out. My heart raised. There was no one around.
The building of the resort seemed far away, and he
was over powered me in strength, so I did the
only thing I could think of. I bent down, grabbed
a handful of sand, and threw it into his face.
He screamed while rubbing his eyes desperately. His grip loosened
up just enough for me to get away. I sprinted
without wasting a single second more. I ran up the stairs,
through the palm trees, passed the pool, and into the
resort lobby. When I saw my parents at the bar,
I broke down crying. I was traumatized. My parents immediately
called the manager and reported this person. The resort security
conducted a thorough search on the beach, but the man
had vanished. Then they checked the guest list, the security cameras,
and even the public areas nearby, but no sign of
that creep. No one who fits that description has stayed
at the resorts or even gone through the gates. No
one knows how he got in. That night, I didn't
sleep very well. I saw his smile every time I
shut my eyes. My parents booked an early flight home
the next day. I'm just glad I relied on my
instincts before it was too late. So to the creepy
over friendly guy, I hope you burn in hell,