3705.

Two middle-aged men sat at a gas station along a deserted stretch of highway. One of the men was napping with a straw hat over his dirty face. He snored like a broken chainsaw while the other man stared aimlessly down the highway, and saw nothing but the occasional tumbleweed. Yes it was a boring life here in Scutsville, Utah, but it was the life they had.

I've been diving a lot. South Africa, the Canary Islands, around the UK. I must have about 80 hours logged. So I'm no stranger to it. Yet one dive I had whilst on holiday in the Maldives last October was very different and eerie. Thinking back to it still gives me this chilling gut feeling, even a year later.

On a Halloween afternoon, Mr. Crinkle was shopping at his local corner store. Outside there were strong winds; making the trees brush against the store window. “Damn wind, a storm is coming for sure.” said the Clerk out loud for anyone to hear him. Mr. Crinkle just huffed as he filled his basket with candles and salt. He then approached the register with his basket of items. Suddenly, a group of trick-or- treaters run inside. “Trick or treat!” the children screamed with excitement. “Here, take it you parasites!” said the Clerk as he handed them expired candy. The Clerk smiled in a joking way but the kids’ faces turned from excitement to frightened while in the presence of scary old Mr. Crinkle.

Im not going to tell you how i got here. Frankly, i dont remember. I remember my name, John Cramer. I remember my age, date of birth, but i cant recall how i ended up in this unknown forest filled with underbrush and dead foliage. I can tell you its dark, almost too dark to see. I can hear for miles it seems. i leaned my back against a thick tree. the ground was slightly damp from rain water settling on the foliage, making sure to move silently.

I am lost. Not physically, I know exactly where I am in terms of location, I am just lost. As I gaze around at cracking beige paint on the same four walls, the realisation dawns on me that I am not only lost, but trapped too. Like a bird surrounded by the bars on containment, being crushed by the weight of all the darkness in the world. How could I possible feel both lost and trapped?

Im not going to tell you how i got here. Frankly, i dont remember. I remember my name, John Cramer. I remember my age, date of birth, but i cant recall how i ended up in this unknown forest filled with underbrush and dead foliage. I can tell you its dark, almost too dark to see. I can hear for miles it seems. i leaned my back against a thick tree. the ground was slightly damp from rain water settling on the foliage, making sure to move silently.

“Do you really have to go?” Seth was used to his father rushing out at all hours, but the power still hadn’t come back on yet, so he’d truly be alone. There was no bright, flickering TV to hold back the hollow darkness, no canned laugh tracks to drown out the creaks and groans of the old house.

One, two, three, four

In the distance were screams that could be heard as if someone was being chased. Trivia Collins and her best friend David Michael quickly ran back to their car when the screams seemed to have gotten closer.

The crack of the collision was strong enough to rattle the window panes. The deck shivered for a moment before growing still again. In the window the flame of the candle melted into the sill flickered but did not go out.