[13757] Tug of the Abyss [Caregivers p2]

The moment Pyrrah stepped into the Caregivers' pool, the water lapped gently at his fur, coaxing him into the memory. Well, less coaxing as he was thrust into it – he wanted to scream. He hadn't expected it to come so quickly, so forcefully. The warmth of the cavern around him vanished, replaced by the icy chill of the stormy sea. Engulfed in darkness, a familiar panic began to set in.

Pyrrah’s first sensation was the feeling of being cold; a bone-deep, numbing cold–one that he would never forget. The sky above him was blackened, swirling with storm clouds, and rain pelted down in a relentless torrent. He was at sea, and the water felt like shards of ice slamming into his small form. His breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled against the raging ocean. Pyrrah didn’t know how to swim—in fact, he didn’t even know who he was. How did he get here??. His limbs thrashed wildly in panic, trying to find something solid, some ground to stand on– but there was nothing. Just endless, churning water, pulling him under. Down and down and down, into the dark. Less dark temptress and more black hole.

The wind howled in his ears, drowning out his own cries for desperate aid, but even if he had screamed, there was no one to hear him. Pyrrah had no idea how he had ended up here. No memory of what had led him to this moment, no recollection of who he had been before the storm. The panic rose in his chest like a second wave, squeezing his lungs, making it even harder to breathe. Would the fear or the sea swallow him first? The prospect only frightened him more.

He kicked hard, trying to keep his head above water, but each time a wave crashed over him, dragging him deeper into the abyss. The ocean swallowed him whole, pulling him down into the depths. The sound of the storm began to dull, and he wasn’t sure whether he was sinking too far away from it or if he was beginning to lose sight of the world as he knew it. His chest burned, and the more he fought, the weaker he became. Inevitable, he thought.

It felt like the world was closing in, and all that was left was this endless sea and the growing darkness around him. His legs grew heavy, his strength fading as the ocean claimed him. He could feel his body sinking. Further and further, deeper and deeper.

This is it, Pyrrah thought, his mind sluggish and scattered. He tried to remember anything—who he was, where he came from—but his mind was blank. Every shred of his identity, every memory, was gone. It was as if he had been wiped clean. How did he get here? Would anyone know he was gone? Missing?? Or was this all there was to this world..?

The storm above roared on, but beneath the surface everything was quiet. The silence was beginning to deafen him. The only sound that he could hear now was his heartbeat, slowing as the cold sank deeper into his bones. The pressure in his chest was unbearable, and soon even the pain began to fade, replaced by a strange stillness. This really was it.

Out of the darkness, something shifted. It was massive, a shadow moving through the black waters, stirring the ocean around him. Pyrrah’s half-closed eyes barely registered it, but some primal part of him knew this wasn’t just the ocean playing tricks on him. The shadow of something large was circling him– watching him. There was nothing he could do.

Through the haze of his sinking consciousness, he felt something brush against him—a massive claw, gripping him tightly. But the grip wasn’t harsh, nor was it hostile. It held him firmly, pulling him from the depths where the ocean had nearly claimed him. Moving. He was moving– towards the surface and away from the dark abyss. What was happening?

For a brief, fleeting moment, Pyrrah’s eyes flickered open. Through the murky water, he saw it– a massive creature, dark as the storm itself, with scales that shimmered faintly in the flashes of lightning overhead. It resembled an ancient reptilian beast, its snout and jagged teeth giving it the appearance of something both terrifying and otherworldly. But Pyrrah didn’t feel fear—only a strange sense of safety as it carried him up, away from the abyss. The creature navigated the raging sea with such ease he hardly felt the battering of the waves.

Pyrrah could barely keep his eyes open now, his consciousness finally slipping in and out like the tide. As the creature breached the surface, the air hit Pyrrah's face, and for the first time, he could breathe. The claws of the beast held him tightly, lifting him from the deadly waters below.

But he didn’t get a chance to see what happened next. Pyrrah never remembered. His vision blurred, and exhaustion pulled him under once more, but this time, it was into unconsciousness. The last thing he remembered was the sensation of being lifted, carried away from the darkness, and then—nothing.