Thalassophobia Pt 1

An Italian Contessa loses her son and must battle forces of darkness to retrieve him. But how far is she willing to go?

Drowning is like anything else, if you practice long enough, you get good at it. It was a bright, blustery day in Basilicata when the men came to the house in their pink jackets and ugly grimaces. A man with a scraggly beard and a dirty scowl came carrying the large pot of  trimmed petunias. "Here Contessa, where do I leave the damned things?" Lizbeth grinned and touched his arm. "Oh just throw them any old place, Benvenuto." He narrowed his eyes and left them by the bay window, which had a view of the crashing surf. "Mommy! Mommy!" came a shrill voice from downstairs. Lizbeth listened as the unsteady patter of feet ascended from the basement. Logan appeared from the staircase, out of breath and holding a large book. He smiled and shuffled his feet when he saw Benvenuto.  "Logan darling, you're covered in dust, have you been in the cellar again?" Lizbeth asked softly. "I only..." he started-"I just discovered that plants are green because of chlorophyll." he said with excitement.  

     Lizbeth smiled. "That's a remarkable find, Logan, thank you." The dusty boy nodded and turned back to the stairs. "Contessa, what of the bill?" asked Benvenuto as he picked his teeth and flicked an invisible speck onto the floor. "Oh send it to Dario, as usual." The man in pink scratched himself and continued unloading flowers into the house. A spray of jasmine in the foyer, a garland of tiger lilies over the mantel, a bouquet of roses on the dining table. Lizbeth took a long deep breath, letting the smell soak into her lungs. "Benvenuto, do lock up when you boys are done. I'm taking my son down the coast." 

     The sharp black knives of the coastal rocks jutted upward towards the heavens. Lizbeth and her son looked like two floating dandelion seeds against the dark cliffs, they both wore simple outfits of white, Lizbeth's gown was striped with black, and Logan wore a page boy's outfit with blue trim. "Mother, I had a strange dream last night." Lizbeth looked down into her son's eyes. He had a grim expression on his cherub face, "what was your dream, my love?" she asked. Logan looked down at the picnic basket he was holding and bit his lip. "We were on a boat. There was a big crystal window all along the side, to see the fish." Lizbeth nodded and said "I wish we had such a ship!" 

     "It sank." He said grimly. "What happened?" his mother asked, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. Logan thought for a moment before he said "there was a great big crack like ice and we started falling down and down." They reached the mouth of a large yawning cave and stepped inside. Lizbeth had chosen the spot earlier that week, it had a splendid view of the waves. "The top of the water was all shimmery like fireflies, and we sank and sank and sank. We sank like a stone, mommy, a stone falling into the ocean." Lizbeth laid out a blanket in the mouth of the cave and felt a frown reach her face. "Well that's not a good dream at all." she said solemnly. "No." he agreed. They didn't say anything for a few minutes as they set up the picnic blanket and spread out the food. "Was that the end of your dream, my darling?" 

Logan shook his head. "It got dark blue and so very black. There was a shadow at the bottom that reached up and masticated us." He sat on his knees and opened a paper parcel with a sandwich inside. 

     Lizbeth cocked her head and asked "masticated, darling?" Logan nodded, "it had great big teeth and it chewed us like this." Logan took a ferocious bite of his sandwich and gnashed his teeth like a feral animal. "I see your point! Don't waste the food." said Lizbeth sternly. Logan nodded sheepishly and ate the rest like a human boy. 

"You know..." said Lizbeth after a pause "that was a pretty silly dream, if you think of it." 

Logan looked up, questioningly. 

The Contessa grinned and patted the knife under dress. "If there was ever a beast trying to masticate you, I'd tear him limb from limb and turn him into a fly." Lizbeth hummed and made her right hand glow slightly in the dark cave. "Then I'd crush him into dust." 

Logan laughed, throwing his head back in that careless way that only children can really do. "Oh mommy, can you use a spell to make me big and strong? I want to fight like you used to." 

Lizbeth looked down at her glowing fingers, and smiled sadly. "I'm sorry my love, I do not know that spell yet, but I'm certain you'll be the strongest man I've ever met." 

Logan bit his lip and looked down. "I have to use the restroom." He said politely as he began brushing sand off of his knees. "Stay where I can see you, darling." called the Contessa as he walked into the darkness of the cave. Lizbeth stared out at the ocean, timing her breath with the soft crash of the waves. She stared into the blue-gray horizon and thought of nothing for a time. "Logan, darling. When you're done let's make our leave." There was no answer from the darkness of the cave. Lizbeth felt her insides twinge for a moment then she heard his voice from far away, too far away. "Mommy! come see this."

     Lizbeth left the basket behind as she walked towards his voice. She didn't see her son, only a soft glow from deep within the cavern. "Logan!" she called, her voice was stern. "Let's go home." There was a pause of a heartbeat and then she heard: "but there are flowers here, I've picked some!" Lizbeth smiled with half her mouth and frowned with the other. The boy was trying to play her. "Fine, I'm coming." She said, throwing her hands up in the air. She walked into the darkness. The light slowly faded away and she felt her insides squirm as she saw less and less. Her feet fell into something wet and warm. "Ugh!" She called, hiking up her skirt. "What is it?" called her son's voice from nearby. "Oh nothing darling, I've just stepped in seawater."  There was a tangle of bell-shaped flowers in front of her. She picked them up, puzzling. They seemed to glow softly in the twilit cave, she leaned in for a smell and Lizbeth nearly dropped them in disgust. "Some kind of wretched cave mushroom." she whispered to herself.

     She heard a grinding like stone on stone from somewhere far away. "Mother."  came her son's voice from behind her. She turned around and saw nothing, she'd lost the mouth of the cave, she was surrounded on all sides by darkness. Panic came and left in a heartbeat, she couldn't show fear, not in front of her son. "Honey? Do you remember which is the way out?" She squinted in the darkness. "Yes, this way." Came her son's voice. There was the scuffle of feet on sand and she followed him. After a moment she heard the rush of the ocean again and felt relief flow through her. Had she really been worried? 

"Here, mom." Lizbeth followed the sound of her son. "My dear, I was nearly lost. You're my knight in shining-" Lizbeth's voice suddenly left her throat as she went into a free-fall. She hadn't felt the ledge but she'd stepped into open air. The only thing she heard was the flapping of her dress and the sudden wet splash as she fell into frigid, paralyzing water. A sensation of coldness, rushing, the roar of a wave. Lizbeth cracked her head on something and saw a field of beautiful stars. She opened her mouth and felt water enter her lips. She needed to breathe, she had to inhale. She had no choice. 

     Then she was lying on cold stone, her face covered in grit. She didn't know how long she had been in the cold and the dark, but she knew her head was throbbing in time to her pulse. "Logan?" she called, before even trying to stand up. She was shocked by how hoarse her own voice was. Lizbeth shakily tried to stand and her gown clung to her skin. She felt the cold bump of her dagger strapped to her thigh. She loosed the strap and moved it down her leg. 

She got up, her jaw chittering like a rabbit's as she put her hands into her armpits. There was darkness everywhere she looked, so she closed her eyes and listened. 

     There was a rhythmic dripping from somewhere nearby. She called her son's name again and only her own scratchy voice responded from the cavern walls. She opened her eyes to try to see something in the blackness, but saw little other than dim jagged shapes. "Logan?" she tried again timidly. There was nothing and Lizbeth was sick of being cold and in the dark. She reached out carefully, feeling for obstacles before she walked forward. Her foot fell into frigid puddle but she couldn't bring herself to care. She hummed to herself, feeling for some source of power. There was very little, just the delicate melody of moss and cold water. 

When she was little, her grandfather had taught her some simple magicks, and Lizbeth struggled to remember the song for light. Three bars and a low hum, no that wasn't quite right. The melody of three blind mice, but slower and deeper, raising in tone and dropping here. It had to come from her stomach, and she had to mean it. Lizbeth thought of her son, alone in the dark and terrified. She hummed again and light burst from her fingertips, blinding her. She saw little shadows dancing around her dizzily. She focused her will and the light settled in a ball in the center of her right hand. She thought of the sun, the warmth of a summer day, and the sound of cicadas. The ball grew warm and began to dry her clothes. 

     She heard plodding like wet footsteps nearby and she focused her light in that direction. "Logan?" She saw nothing but lichen-covered stalagmites and wild moving shadows. Lizbeth was nearly dry now. She took careful steps towards the dripping, not sure where else to proceed. Tiny rabbits burst from a hole to her right and she nearly screamed, they scattered around her feet and went in every direction. "Little devils." Muttered Lizbeth as she tried to catch her breath. She aimed her light into the darkness and saw an opening like a jagged mouth. 

     She walked for a long while, the dank cave smell occasionally becoming sweet, nearly hurting her nose with a saccharine tang. Her light would sometimes dim, and she would think of the soft crash of the waves in the summer and the sound of the wind in the trees, it never failed to make it bright again. Lizbeth noticed irregular scratch marks on the walls in front of her. A little tree in a circle, a crucifix surrounded by flames, and other queer signs that she didn't know. Lizebth gasped as the top of her head caught the ceiling, sharp rocks razing her scalp and letting loose dark rivulets of blood. She hadn't remembered the cave being so small, or the way ahead so narrow. 

She bent down on one knee and looked into the hole, one eye closing as blood dripped down her forehead. "Logan?!" She called into the darkness. She looked back the way she came, then into the dark hole ahead. She had no choice. She crawled on hands and knees into the coffin-sized opening, she felt stone brushing her back and yet terribly close to her face. The air grew fresher the further she crawled, and she heard gentle lapping as she approached an opening of sorts. There was movement ahead and she felt her heart lift like a kite on a breeze. She excitedly squeezed herself into the opening and looked upon the room ahead. She felt a scream start in her throat and it took all she had to keep it contained. 

Author's Note

All thoughts and opinions welcome.

Reviews

[-inactive now-]

Interesting story for sure. I can't wait to see what happens in the next chapter after that nice little cliffhanger ending.