Five Miles Deep
It's a warm summer afternoon and you've just finished cleaning out the gutters and fixing that loose shutter on the kitchen window. The little wife has been asking all week and you finally got around to doing it. Bless her old heart. You've been married for 45 years and you still can never seem to get around to fixing up anything that comes loose in good time. But you never let the little lady down. So eventually you do get around to it. And maybe next Sunday you'll fix that leaky faucet. All in due time. You may be just south of 70 but you feel as spry as a newly hatched Deerling.
After a light lunch you pack your fishing gear, wave goodbye to the wife and head out to see what's biting. Maybe you'll catch dinner and maybe you'll just catch some zzz's. Either way you're in for a well earned bit of relaxation.
You walk down to the dock and untie your little boat. It's old and most of the paint had flaked off. But you couldn't ask for a more sturdy vessel. Maybe someday you'll get around to repainting it. Right after you fix that leaky faucet. You wouldn't want your plate to be too full now. You've got to leave time for the important things in life. Like fishing for example.
You row out into the bay. It's getting a bit harder on your old bones but that's alright. Those motor boats scare the fish anyhow. Plus the exercise is good for you. All your friends have gotten a little pudgy. But you're still in fine shape. That's because you fish. And go for long walks. And even complete the occasional household chore.
When you get far enough out you bait your hook and cast the line. A few minutes pass and you still haven't gotten a bite. That's ok. There's no rush. In fact the lack of bites here might just be your cue to take a well deserved nap. You tip down your hat and settle in a bit, closing your eyes.
The boat starts to shake, rousing you from your slumber. You look around, seeing nothing but darkness. How long were you out? You check your watch. It's only 2:30. So why is it dark? It can't be 2:30 AM. You weren't that sleepy.
The weather was supposed to be clear. If a sudden storm is brewing then you'd better get back to shore. Taking the oars you attempt to row. But they just won't budge. The water feels like molasses. You know it's not your arms. They feel loose and strong as ever. It's the water. It feels thick and stagnant. In fact, the boat isn't even moving anymore. It's like it's stuck fast in place. As if it's been glued onto the water somehow.
You aren't scared just yet. If anything you're mighty intrigued. Just wait until the guys at the tavern hear about this. Better than Bill's story about the Lugia that he caught but set free. Everyone knows Bill doesn't have anything better than that pesky Bidoof that sleeps through most battles and eats through the whole whole kitchen.
You take a look around. It's gotten so dark you can barely see a thing. And now a thick mist has started to close in. You're still just curious at this point. Wondering what kind of story this will make for the next gathering with the old boys.
There's some kind of noise now. It's like a rumbling that just goes on and on. And it's getting louder. It's starting to sound like voices. In fact, it sounds a lot like-
Two red lights appear in the distance. They're small but unbearable bright. You have to shield your eyes. As the lights draw near the voices grow louder. There are dozens of them. But you can clearly make out one among the cacophony.
And then you remember...
- - -
It was 60 years ago. You were just a mere boy spending the weekend with your grandparents. You were supposed to go fishing with grandpa. But it was unexpectedly chilly that August and you caught a cold. Grandma wouldn't let you go. But you didn't want grandpa to be bored so you told him to go and catch a boatload of fish for dinner.
Grandpa never came back...
Grandma told you there was a sudden storm and he was lost at sea. And it did get awfully dark out just half an hour after Grandpa had left. But you don't remember any rain. But you did remember the whispers. The rumors. No one was supposed to tell you. They didn't want to scare you. No one was supposed to tell you that sometimes...
- - -
The lights were now right in front of you. But it was too dark to see what they were attached to, if anything. But you didn't have to see the rest to know that they were eyes. The one clear voice above the congregation reverberated in your ears, calling your name. Calling you to the place that you should have gone to 60 years ago.
"Grandpa...," you whisper.
Suddenly an eerie light began to fill the darkness. And the shape was clear. The shape belonging to those red and gleaming eyes.
A male Jellicent.
- - -
As you got older it became impossible to hide the local legend from you. Because the other kids talked about it so much. They loved to scare each other with tales of people being dragged down into the depths never to be seen again. The bay was ripe with Frillish and Jellicent. Most of the time nothing happened. It was like any normal pokemon encounter. But sometimes they chose someone. It was said that that's how they really increased their numbers. The bay would grow dark and a Jellicent would appear. First as a pair of glowing eyes like a lone beacon in the mist, followed by countless voices. Although they say you could always make out just one very clearly. Then as the Jellicent neared its intended victim the darkness would be slowly permeated by a strange and unearthly glow. At this point it was too late. There was no escape.
You would be dragged down five miles deep to the Jellicent Kingdom. As you sunk into the depths you'd be surrounded by innumerable Jellicent and Frillish. And you could hear them now. All of them at once. Each voice as clear as a bell.
Because now...
- - -
You are home.
You aren't the least bit scared and you are already sinking.
You're reminiscing with Grandpa. He's telling you about the time he caught a shiny Luvdisc and a Pelipper swooped right down and snatched it out of the boat. You always loved that story.
He's telling you about how when he proposed to Grandma in the park he dropped the ring and it rolled down the path. He had to chase it down and it nearly ended up in a storm drain. That story always made you laugh.
You're sinking faster. You're drowning. The voices are getting louder. You can hear them all. People you knew. People you heard about. People who were lost at sea long before you were born. They're all here.
And they're all welcoming you.
Five miles down. You're falling five miles into the depths of the sea. It's so peaceful. You can see them floating. The Frillish girls with their warm, smiling faces. The Frillish boys with those serious expressions. Magnificent Jellicent lords and ladies. Kings and queens. Regal monarchs of the deep. And they are all welcoming you. To the Jellicent kingdom five miles below the surface.
Slowly and gently you are enveloped in a protective shell. It's hard and tight. But that's ok. Because you don't need to breath anymore. The walls are closing in. Your bones can't take it. But that's ok too. Because you won't be needing your bones ever again. Shedding all of these useless things is so pleasant. So natural. You can't believe you ever needed to have air in your lungs or bones in your body. It all sounds so absurd now.
You're locked in. An egg no bigger than a ripe cantaloupe. Yet your whole body fits into it nicely. And it's so comfortable.
Suddenly there's a bright flash of light. It doesn't just fill your mind but also your soul. Your entire spirit is reawakened.
You're hatching. Emerging. Being reborn.
You hold your appendages out before your newly opened eyes. They're blue. And they flow just like water. It feels incredibly free. How could you ever move before with arms and legs?
Grandpa holds out a hand.
"Welcome to the Jellicent Kingdom. Five miles deep".
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