54 Chapter 54: Fishers of Men, Part 12

My body tossed and tumbled through the churning waters like a frog caught in a filter pump. My left arm cramped up again, but I held on to the chain with all of my might. As I traversed the tunnel of throbbing tentacles, I could hear a barely audible but constant whimper, as if something was in pain. I caught a glance at the portal's pulsating innards as they rushed by. A lattice of raw rents and scars marred their scaled but shiny surfaces. Then it hit me. These wounds were the work of all the fishhooks that had ever torn through the thing's guts. Despite the alien appearance of the corridor, it was living, sorrowful, and suffering.

Then it spat me out, expelling me like so much human fecal matter into its ocean. I let go of the chain, and tumbled to a bed of bluish sand and rock. The steel hook at the end of the line, at least three feet long, cut through the water mere inches from my face. I pushed myself to my knees, and looked back.