[IP] your fantasy/horror short story for this child's painting by my daugther and me...

Karaakatanossus floated with his tentacles completely still. Yes, he could sense it clearly now. Through 4000 meters of salt water, fish and seaweed, he felt the vibrations of a ship. A ship! It had been ages ago since the little pink creatures had visited their part of the sea. He glanced at Father, who resembled a small mountain as he slept on the seabed under him. Oh! It itched in his tentacles of excitement. Maybe Father wouldn’t notice if he swam up? If he just went up really quickly? Maybe he would though. He could already hear his voice booming: ” Karaakatanossus, what have I told you about going up to the surface!” He shivered so that his rows of teeth chattered.

But still. His mind made little swimming somersaults by the mere thought of getting to play with the little air creatures. Juggle with them. Make them dive. Make them kiss each other. Catch a shark and make it kiss them. And the ship! He wondered if it was one of those with a black-and-white flag and hard sticks that made a BOOM! In excitement, Karaakatanossus banged his tentacle into a piece of dead coral reef, producing a loud crack.

Father made a gurgling noise.

Karaakatanossus held his breath. Father did not like being woken up. To his relief, Father just turned around and returned to his deep slumber, his massive body heaving up and down.

Karaakatanossus absently pulled away a rib bone from the half-eaten whale carcass lying next to Father. He gnawed on it without passion. He just couldn’t stop thinking about the ship. He dropped the bone and began swimming around in a circle. What would it be like to be a ship? To carry a bunch of those frantic clumps of meat on your back?

An anglerfish swam by above him. It had a shining protrusion on its forehead which cast a yellow light on Karaakatanossus dark green body. His shadow on the sand had the form of a rugged cloud trailing a bunch of tails. He was only 400 years old, but had already managed to amass a considerable amount of algae, molluscs, sea grass, shell debris, old bones and dead plants that covered his torso like craggy armor. High above him, he felt the ship leaving. Soon it would be gone forever. He glanced again at Father.

A salty wind whipped hard at Malcolm’s face. He was standing at the gunwhale, watching dark clouds fly hastily across the sky. It wasn’t a cozy night, he thought, but it sure made the ship go faster. And that was all he could ask for. For too long he had been out to sea. He just wanted to return Spain. To go home to Marcus. To feel his soft, warm skin against his. To run his fingers through his golden curls.

What was that?

It sounded like thunder. But it was coming from below.

Malcolm didn’t even have time to open his mouth in surprise before the tentacle had wrapped itself around his body and hurled him twenty meter up into the air.

/r/WritingPrompts Thread