Writers block is a plague and I'm infected. Hi, I'm Araw. I'm seventeen and I call myself I writer.

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I only started writing to practice for a scholarship exam. Five years later, here I am.

The Kraken #Paganini'sviolin

October 2, 2019


The rain was heavy that night, beating down on the Earth mercilessly like a mighty waterfall rushing downwards from a heavenly precipice. Standing up to its force was almost a feat of superhuman strength. One’s knees would surely buckle and collapse under the pressure. Somehow, the wind was worse, bitter and sharp. It bit at the skin like a pack of wolves at the heels of an unfortunate bison. The Captain, being a man of the sea, had grown used to these storms. His body was knew the weight of the water and he could face the winds without once flinching. This time, however, the storm was not the problem. What the Captain really worried about was the monster that hid itself under the swelling waves, disguised its screeches in the roaring winds, and struck like lightning from under the cover of heavy rain.

               The Captain’s fingernails, about to break from clutching the deck railing so tightly, were the only things keeping him from flying into the merciless tides. A handful of his men had already succumbed to that cruel fate and were now ragdolls being tossed onto jagged rocks over and over again by the sea. They didn’t even get the displeasure of meeting the monster. Determined to save himself and the rest of his crew from this destiny, the Captain planted his feet firmly back on deck while still holding onto the railing for dear life. He had to gather himself again, find his bearings if he was to survive this ordeal. So far, he only knew two things about his foe. The first was that the monster relied on the rain to keep its prey blind and evidently, this was effective. Despite being in desperate battle with it, no one on the ship had seen it yet. The second was that it was incredibly large, capable of picking up the entire ship for short amounts of time and squeezing it until its support timbres splintered. As little information as this was, it was enough for the Captain to know that it would take a miracle for anyone to make it out alive. Still, he was willing to try. He slowly pulled himself towards the hull where the beast seemingly had its tightest hold. As he approached, he could hear the faint voices of his men, calling for each other’s help and desperate to be heard over the storm. He knew that any form of communication was hopeless, but he shouted in response to their cries anyway so that they could at least have a little bit of hope. Among the voices, there were thuds and metallic clangs, cutlasses sent out of the hands of their wielders and uselessly onto the deck floor. One by one, certain voices went quiet, plucked out of the air like apples plucked from an orchard. The Captain quickly understood what was happening. It was only a matter of time before he was taken away, too. With one hand on the railing and the other bearing his cutlass, he did his best to listen for any slight difference in the constant drumming of the rain and the faint screeching of the beast. For what seemed like an eternity, there was no change. The torturous cacophony remained constant. The Captain, however, knew better and didn’t let his guard down. Sure enough, the lightning-quick sound of the air being cut signalled an attack. Before it could reach him, the Captain turned and slashed with his sword. In the rush of it all, he had instinctively closed his eyes and did not see the creature. What he did see was the spurting of viscous, dark blood that followed and a pink, twitching piece of tentacle flopping on the deck.

               Slowly, more of these appendages creeped towards him from all sides. Each of them, while pink and in possession of countless suckers, were different in their own grotesque way. There were no two that were the same size or moved in the same way. Some darted about while others swirled in disturbingly intricate spiral patterns. When they got too close, the Captain mowed them down with his weapon. As grim as the situation was, there was some satisfaction in the way they retreated when they were injured, the way they left trails of the beast’s blood in broken, streaky lines. Despite being able to hold his own, however, the Captain was surrounded. He had failed to notice the spiralling direction they all took in approaching him as well as the sheer numbers in which they came. Soon, they had come close enough to touching him and gripped tight enough to squeeze the air from his lungs. As he squirmed and attempted to keep slashing, he was lifted up into the air where the winds were much harsher. Still, he refused to give up. He stared out into the blinding rain, into the merciless wind and held his head up in defiance. No matter what, he would not bow to any foe.

               As he was drawn closer to his eventual death, the Captain felt an odd sense of peace. Perhaps it was because he would finally see the face of his killer. Maybe it was the satisfaction of not having given up until the last moment. Whatever it was, it made him feel beams of warm sunlight on his face, even in the cold rain. Even as he stared at the indescribably horrendous maw of the beast and its ever-deep dead eyes, he felt as though he was coming home to the sailors he led out onto the seas. To the younger brother he left behind to take care of his family. To the mother who played lullabies on the piano so he could fall asleep. He wished she could be there to play him to sleep one last time.
Not my best work, but I'm proud of it nonetheless. It's also damn long (sorry, lol). The piece this was inspired by is Chopin’s Etude Op. 25 No. 12 which is also often called the Ocean Etude.


See History
  • October 2, 2019 - 8:56am (Now Viewing)

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  • ChairsRAwesome

    Ooof I'm hella late but i love this

    6 months ago
  • Araw

    Oof, thx ya'll. Tbh, I've noticed there's a typo in "He was knew the weight..." but it's meant to be "He knew the weight." I am aware of this error but I've already entered this version in the contest so I probably shouldn't change it.

    about 1 year ago
  • jengelman

    i like that the person is called the captain, rather than given a name tho

    about 1 year ago
  • jengelman


    about 1 year ago
  • Anha

    I'm so glad you're back on your writing grind. This is simply exquisite. Your descriptions and imagery made this story vividly real; among my favourite phrases - "heavenly precipice", "like a pack of wolves at the heels of an unfortunate bison", "certain voices went quiet, plucked out of the air like apples plucked from an orchard". Absolutely brilliant work.

    about 1 year ago