06-24-2018, 10:36 PM
![[Image: BK0vpCE.png]](https://i.imgur.com/BK0vpCE.png)
Death. It was inevitable to anyone that was contained in the mortal world. One could try their best to drag out their years or months or weeks of life to run from death's grasp but death was one of patience, ready to hold the hand of whoever died to pass them wherever they wish. Hell. Heaven. Limbo. Pincher had honestly expected to be trapped in the burning fires of hell, dragged into the agony of being a horrible sinner alongside others who had failed to be considered "good" in the standard way of living. But when Pincher opened his eyes, all he saw was darkness. All he felt was the feeling of crushing pressure against his chest and the slowness of time. Then he parted his lips...and exhaled. Tiny bubbles of air floated out of his throat and went upwards causing Pincher to stiffen, confusion enveloping him. Was he underwater? He never believed there was some sort of hell that trapped him in a place he sought comfort in when alive, his glazed glacier blue eyes flickering around in the darkness as he decided to move. Everything was pitch black, the darkness trapping Pincher in a state of panic as his drowned out ears heard nothing. Occasional flashes of bright lights flickered in the distant, brilliant colors of luminescence the only difference that he could make out.
A voice. Was it even a voice? It sounded nothing that he had heard of before, it's warped cry piercing his eardrums and causing the canine to stumble backward, his body finally reacting and moving. His paws sunk into the sand yet it wasn't the dry surface that he was used to when he had lived on the tropical island he had called home once. The sand slowly floated around him, wrapping around him for a second before sinking back to where it was as Pincher glanced around, twisting his head to figure out where he was but he couldn't speak nor could he hear anything except that sudden shrill voice that echoed inside his aching skull. Everything felt so slow to him, even his movements that tended to be quick and nimble were now interrupted by the heavy pressure that weighed him down yet not enough to destroy him though it felt like it could at any second. His jaws parted once again as he exhaled, watching another trail of bubbles dance out of his lungs and swirled up, his wide eyes staring up as he suddenly realized where he was. At the bottom of the ocean. A place of mystery, his memory flashing to the idea of how books said that humans held more research about the moon than the ocean that covered the majority of the earth.
Pincher had no clue where he was supposed to go or what he was supposed to do, all he knew was that he was not safe here. That at this moment, he was locked in a cell of saltwater and fear. How was his body now destroyed? Or stripped of its flesh? He knew plenty of creatures would have already torn into him especially the bottomfeeders that lurked in the infinite abyss. The skies above had stars and galaxies, lights that one could find comfort in...the sea was not so kind to its inhabitants. It held no mercy for the weak, forever changing and only the ones that could adapt to it would be the survivors. And this is what Pincher had to do. Adapt or die. He then heard a soft ringing, high-pitched yet wavering as if it was bouncing up and down in frequency. With each passing second, it grew more intense which caused the canine to wince, his skull feeling like it was about to shatter into a million pieces. Pincher lowered himself to the dull sand, his trembling legs forcing him to collapse. As the cry grew louder, Pincher stared at the darkness in front of him, wanting to know why he was imprisoned in it when a sudden face lurched out of the darkness, wide eyes of emptiness staring straight at him with the color of sea green waves. His jaws cracked open to release a scream yet all that came out was a gurgled muffle, the water destroying the sound that Pincher desired to let out. His heart should be racing, thumping against his chest at a lightning fast rate. But he felt nothing. He felt no aching ribcage out of the sudden scare nor did he hear the soft thump of the organ swallowing his hearing.
But he heard nothing. He felt nothing. He had nothing.
Pincher tried to draw back from the staring disgusting face, it's smooth skin the color of cobalt as it parted its lips, the shrill shriek returning but this time in a language that he did not understand. Was it even considered a language? All he knew was that it was speaking to him, the indescribable words searing his mind from any thought processing that was racing in his head. Who were they? What did they want? Why did it speak to him? All those thoughts seemed to destroy themselves as it controlled Pincher's focus in some horrifying way that reminded him too much of the twisted stories of mind-control. It gripped him, locking him into place as he was forced to stare into its eyes as its lips parting as if was speaking quickly, rushed as if it had no time in the warped reality that Pincher was currently surviving in. Then he noticed other glowing eyes beginning to part from the darkness, multiple sizes of eyes staring down at him. His eyes flickered around, wide with horror. The creature's voice increased in volume which caused the doberman to focus back on it, glued to the face as it suddenly stopped speaking, the shrill whispers no longer filling his head. Then it smiled. Pale yellow fangs that did not glint in the darkness were revealed as its lips peeled back and then it spoke.
Air. Pincher let out a loud gasp as he inhaled it for the first time, his sleek ink black head breaking through the ocean's waves as he finally reached the surface. His glacier cyan blue eyes blinked rapidly, recoiling at the sudden brightness that shined down on him. The sun. It seemed like such an important piece in one's life and now as he finally adjusted to it, he only felt a sense of irritation for it. Despite it's all mighty power, Pincher had not seen it at the bottom of the ocean, his faith for it now a crumbled thought as he unfolded on what the sun meant in the mortal world. Day. Movement. Sight. A frustrated expression began to twitch on his sharp facial features as he kept kicking to keep himself above the water's line, his velvety ears drawing back at the odd sound of the ocean crashing currents with itself. Then the taste of it. Salt. Bitter. His forked tongue stuck out briefly as Pincher began to turn to figure out where he was. With his senses now returning to his body, the numbness that had overtaken him when he had been down there slipped away. He could taste, hear, see, and smell. He was free. Or so he thought. Pincher's mind was in a state of haze, foggy with memories of his life and afterlife blending in together with him attempting to pull them apart as the canine swallowed, trying to get a hold of where he was and what to do from there. Each direction held no speck of land for him to find shelter in and so Pincher realized that he would have to swim to where he believed he once roamed. To return to a family. A crew. A home. Home. With a sudden rush of energy to find what he had once lost, the obsidian figure began to swim.
He had died two days ago. It had taken him two days to travel. Too long. What was happening? What did he miss? Had anything wrong happened while he was gone? Were Goldie and Blue okay? Were Jacob and Roxanne okay? Were his crewmates okay? The paranoid side of Pincher's mind began to overtake him as he kept swimming, believing he was going the right way. His mind bounced to the memory of his death, the "afterlife" he had been forced to endure, and the returning promise. He wasn't exactly himself nor was the perception around him. Everything felt different. And Pincher was unsure how to feel about that or how it would affect him, all he desired was on that island he constantly recalled in his mind. So the male would swim against the waters, the scars that marked his neck now turned into gills allowing him to swim easier. His navigating skills helped as he would follow the temperature of the ocean's currents, the sun's location in the sky. During the navy blue night, he would follow the constellations that twinkled above him. Hunger and tiredness began to develop but Pincher focused on the goal set. Water. Just water. It allowed his mind to float away but he couldn't think at the same time. He wanted to remember what had happened beneath the ocean's surface, he wanted to remember the darkness and what it had held. Yet, all that managed to be pulled out was the thought of was a name. Delmar. Why was that name of any importance?
Then he heard a shrill cry. But not the one he had heard before in the depths of the sea. This time, the cry was from above and it caused his head to tip upwards, electric blue gaze fluttering around to catch sight of the creature that had made the noise when a flash of bone white ivory caught his attention and Pincher stopped swimming for a brief second. Seagull. And that meant he would be near land. His attention now became honed onto reality, his long muscular legs kicking against the water as he finally noticed the smoke in the distance. Land. Home. He began to quicken his swimming, his velvety long ears pricked as he began to notice the speck of island begin to grow in size, it's rich tropical vegetation becoming more detailed as he closed the space between them. The excitement began to race through his veins, the adrenaline surging him forward and perhaps had caused his heart rate to quicken...if he had one. But Pincher was oblivious to the fact that he no longer possessed a vital organ. All that he could focus on was returning home. As the canine pushed through the rougher currents and into the coral reef, he glanced down through the crystalline clear water to spot the colorful schools of fish and coral as if it was the first time he had ever seen it. He noticed the towering figure of the Tempest, it's sable black wood glinting in the sunlight with its sails ready to be used to seek freedom in the seven seas. However, Pincher didn't find any freedom in the sea any longer. He only felt entrapment. Pressure. One that he knew he would not be able to escape alive.
A large wave managed to push the doberman forward enough to make him feel land beneath his paws again as he stumbled onto shore, his legs worn from the travel and causing him to slump to the floor. He let out a small groan of pain as he crashed to the wet sand, his tired eyelids sliding over his gaze as he let out a sigh of relief. He was back home. Pincher remained on the ground for a solid moment, embracing the relief that he had managed to do what only sea stories had been known for. Returning from the dead. However, Pincher was oblivious to the differences of his body. He had become slightly larger in height, his back legs now tattooed with an eerie bright blue ink that did not wear off, and new scars that marked just above his tail as if a monster had dragged their claws or teeth against him. He was different. Everything around him was different. But he would manage. He would survive. He would live.
"Hello?"
Delmar...you're finally ours.
A voice. Was it even a voice? It sounded nothing that he had heard of before, it's warped cry piercing his eardrums and causing the canine to stumble backward, his body finally reacting and moving. His paws sunk into the sand yet it wasn't the dry surface that he was used to when he had lived on the tropical island he had called home once. The sand slowly floated around him, wrapping around him for a second before sinking back to where it was as Pincher glanced around, twisting his head to figure out where he was but he couldn't speak nor could he hear anything except that sudden shrill voice that echoed inside his aching skull. Everything felt so slow to him, even his movements that tended to be quick and nimble were now interrupted by the heavy pressure that weighed him down yet not enough to destroy him though it felt like it could at any second. His jaws parted once again as he exhaled, watching another trail of bubbles dance out of his lungs and swirled up, his wide eyes staring up as he suddenly realized where he was. At the bottom of the ocean. A place of mystery, his memory flashing to the idea of how books said that humans held more research about the moon than the ocean that covered the majority of the earth.
Pincher had no clue where he was supposed to go or what he was supposed to do, all he knew was that he was not safe here. That at this moment, he was locked in a cell of saltwater and fear. How was his body now destroyed? Or stripped of its flesh? He knew plenty of creatures would have already torn into him especially the bottomfeeders that lurked in the infinite abyss. The skies above had stars and galaxies, lights that one could find comfort in...the sea was not so kind to its inhabitants. It held no mercy for the weak, forever changing and only the ones that could adapt to it would be the survivors. And this is what Pincher had to do. Adapt or die. He then heard a soft ringing, high-pitched yet wavering as if it was bouncing up and down in frequency. With each passing second, it grew more intense which caused the canine to wince, his skull feeling like it was about to shatter into a million pieces. Pincher lowered himself to the dull sand, his trembling legs forcing him to collapse. As the cry grew louder, Pincher stared at the darkness in front of him, wanting to know why he was imprisoned in it when a sudden face lurched out of the darkness, wide eyes of emptiness staring straight at him with the color of sea green waves. His jaws cracked open to release a scream yet all that came out was a gurgled muffle, the water destroying the sound that Pincher desired to let out. His heart should be racing, thumping against his chest at a lightning fast rate. But he felt nothing. He felt no aching ribcage out of the sudden scare nor did he hear the soft thump of the organ swallowing his hearing.
But he heard nothing. He felt nothing. He had nothing.
Pincher tried to draw back from the staring disgusting face, it's smooth skin the color of cobalt as it parted its lips, the shrill shriek returning but this time in a language that he did not understand. Was it even considered a language? All he knew was that it was speaking to him, the indescribable words searing his mind from any thought processing that was racing in his head. Who were they? What did they want? Why did it speak to him? All those thoughts seemed to destroy themselves as it controlled Pincher's focus in some horrifying way that reminded him too much of the twisted stories of mind-control. It gripped him, locking him into place as he was forced to stare into its eyes as its lips parting as if was speaking quickly, rushed as if it had no time in the warped reality that Pincher was currently surviving in. Then he noticed other glowing eyes beginning to part from the darkness, multiple sizes of eyes staring down at him. His eyes flickered around, wide with horror. The creature's voice increased in volume which caused the doberman to focus back on it, glued to the face as it suddenly stopped speaking, the shrill whispers no longer filling his head. Then it smiled. Pale yellow fangs that did not glint in the darkness were revealed as its lips peeled back and then it spoke.
You will return, Delmar.
Air. Pincher let out a loud gasp as he inhaled it for the first time, his sleek ink black head breaking through the ocean's waves as he finally reached the surface. His glacier cyan blue eyes blinked rapidly, recoiling at the sudden brightness that shined down on him. The sun. It seemed like such an important piece in one's life and now as he finally adjusted to it, he only felt a sense of irritation for it. Despite it's all mighty power, Pincher had not seen it at the bottom of the ocean, his faith for it now a crumbled thought as he unfolded on what the sun meant in the mortal world. Day. Movement. Sight. A frustrated expression began to twitch on his sharp facial features as he kept kicking to keep himself above the water's line, his velvety ears drawing back at the odd sound of the ocean crashing currents with itself. Then the taste of it. Salt. Bitter. His forked tongue stuck out briefly as Pincher began to turn to figure out where he was. With his senses now returning to his body, the numbness that had overtaken him when he had been down there slipped away. He could taste, hear, see, and smell. He was free. Or so he thought. Pincher's mind was in a state of haze, foggy with memories of his life and afterlife blending in together with him attempting to pull them apart as the canine swallowed, trying to get a hold of where he was and what to do from there. Each direction held no speck of land for him to find shelter in and so Pincher realized that he would have to swim to where he believed he once roamed. To return to a family. A crew. A home. Home. With a sudden rush of energy to find what he had once lost, the obsidian figure began to swim.
He had died two days ago. It had taken him two days to travel. Too long. What was happening? What did he miss? Had anything wrong happened while he was gone? Were Goldie and Blue okay? Were Jacob and Roxanne okay? Were his crewmates okay? The paranoid side of Pincher's mind began to overtake him as he kept swimming, believing he was going the right way. His mind bounced to the memory of his death, the "afterlife" he had been forced to endure, and the returning promise. He wasn't exactly himself nor was the perception around him. Everything felt different. And Pincher was unsure how to feel about that or how it would affect him, all he desired was on that island he constantly recalled in his mind. So the male would swim against the waters, the scars that marked his neck now turned into gills allowing him to swim easier. His navigating skills helped as he would follow the temperature of the ocean's currents, the sun's location in the sky. During the navy blue night, he would follow the constellations that twinkled above him. Hunger and tiredness began to develop but Pincher focused on the goal set. Water. Just water. It allowed his mind to float away but he couldn't think at the same time. He wanted to remember what had happened beneath the ocean's surface, he wanted to remember the darkness and what it had held. Yet, all that managed to be pulled out was the thought of was a name. Delmar. Why was that name of any importance?
Then he heard a shrill cry. But not the one he had heard before in the depths of the sea. This time, the cry was from above and it caused his head to tip upwards, electric blue gaze fluttering around to catch sight of the creature that had made the noise when a flash of bone white ivory caught his attention and Pincher stopped swimming for a brief second. Seagull. And that meant he would be near land. His attention now became honed onto reality, his long muscular legs kicking against the water as he finally noticed the smoke in the distance. Land. Home. He began to quicken his swimming, his velvety long ears pricked as he began to notice the speck of island begin to grow in size, it's rich tropical vegetation becoming more detailed as he closed the space between them. The excitement began to race through his veins, the adrenaline surging him forward and perhaps had caused his heart rate to quicken...if he had one. But Pincher was oblivious to the fact that he no longer possessed a vital organ. All that he could focus on was returning home. As the canine pushed through the rougher currents and into the coral reef, he glanced down through the crystalline clear water to spot the colorful schools of fish and coral as if it was the first time he had ever seen it. He noticed the towering figure of the Tempest, it's sable black wood glinting in the sunlight with its sails ready to be used to seek freedom in the seven seas. However, Pincher didn't find any freedom in the sea any longer. He only felt entrapment. Pressure. One that he knew he would not be able to escape alive.
A large wave managed to push the doberman forward enough to make him feel land beneath his paws again as he stumbled onto shore, his legs worn from the travel and causing him to slump to the floor. He let out a small groan of pain as he crashed to the wet sand, his tired eyelids sliding over his gaze as he let out a sigh of relief. He was back home. Pincher remained on the ground for a solid moment, embracing the relief that he had managed to do what only sea stories had been known for. Returning from the dead. However, Pincher was oblivious to the differences of his body. He had become slightly larger in height, his back legs now tattooed with an eerie bright blue ink that did not wear off, and new scars that marked just above his tail as if a monster had dragged their claws or teeth against him. He was different. Everything around him was different. But he would manage. He would survive. He would live.
"Hello?"
[align=center]![[Image: iZHBbjf.png]](https://i.imgur.com/iZHBbjf.png)
© MADI
the ruby sunset waters hide a resurrected lover
![[Image: tiny_pixel_goldie.png]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/453243520472449024/454027563728109598/tiny_pixel_goldie.png){kind=tracking}
