Water: A Short Story

A naked male figure rested upon a stone dais, within a small room with stone walls. The dais was cracked at the base, causing it to slant down towards the floor. But the floor couldn't be seen, as murky water had filled the room, up to the figure's feet.

His eyes opened, a breath of air filled his lungs. A pale white glow glimmered around the room from the surface of the water, coming from just outside the dilapidated and broken mausoleum he found himself in. He pulled himself further up the dais to get his feet out of the frigid water. He looked all around, as nothing seemed familiar. The air around him smelled fresh and salted, despite the dilapidated appearance of his surroundings.

"Where?" he spoke, letting the word hang in there air,

His heel planted against something slick and smooth. He shoved his foot, trying to kick off of it as best he could. The grip on his leg loosened. He kicked it and freed his foot from the other hand. He used those precious seconds to pull himself through the sand and water. His heart raced, his chest ached, he was coughing up the acrid salty water. He moved on hands and feet until his fingers crunched into drier sand.

He looked up just in time to see something glint in the moonlight. It streaked towards him. He thought it was going to hit him. He had no time to dodge it.

It shot past his head, whistling as it went.

The sharp crack of metal on bone came from behind him. Then, a shrill gurgling cry of some terrible monstrosity.

He turned his head, only long enough to see something looming out of the water. A shadowy shape, covered in glistening black scales. A pair of elongated arms rose up with webbed hands. It plucked the arrow from what could only be its strange fish-like head.

"Get out of the water!" a woman's voice shouted from far away, seemingly coming from the direction of the village.

With renewed vigor, he scrambled out of the last few inches of water and rose to his feet.

Sharp claws raked the back of his left