The Wrong Monster

I can't remember much before the accident. Nor much afterwards.

I was sitting in a car with a friend of mine, we had broken down in the middle of the Bayou and were trying to call out for a tow truck but couldn't get a signal.

My friend, Max, had done something. I remember him hugging me but then trying to kiss me but I said no. He didn't like that.

I turned and felt a sharp pain in my neck.

Then, darkness.

I didn't dream, at least not that I know of, just a vast void of pure darkness.

I can still recall the feel of the leather seats of the fancy sports car that man kept so clean. I remember feeling restrained, not tied up but belted in. The thick scent of the musk of the Bayou, all that water.

Then came the sounds of crickets, birds. The engine starting up suddenly. I remember thinking that was odd since he said the engine had just broken down. I heard the door slam, felt the vibrations of it.

The speed alone almost lulled me to sleep, like when I used to go on road trips with my family as a kid.

It was interrupted by the most terrible crushing sound of the front end slamming into the water.

The cold water cut through me right to the bone. That's what made me open my eyes and jerk forward.

The was rushing through the open drivers window, the seat was empty.

I yelled and shouted and yanked at the seatbelt but it was no use. The water filled up the car in minutes that felt like mere seconds. The lock on the belt was broken.

As I gasped for air with my face crushed against the ceiling, I almost laughed at myself for dying this way.

Ironic, since my greatest fear is water.

I took once last deep breath and accepted my fate as I ducked my head underwater when my air pocket filled up.

I looked through the windshield into the dark water, I could see the moon in the reflection through the water.

Suddenly, the passenger door was ripped clean off, out of instinct I opened my mouth to scream,

Which was really stupid, I KNOW. But you would too if you were submerged by an angry homicidal maniac who couldn’t take no for an answer and your passenger door was popped off like it was a toy instead of a 2,000 pound sports car.

A figure emerged in its place, panic started to overwhelm me. I couldn’t breathe, and soon once again I was unconscious.

The next thing I know, I’m vomiting out vile swamp water while sitting upright on the roots of a tree.

“Get it out, it’s okay.” I gasped and turned around to see…

Honestly, I’m still unsure of what I saw.

There was a full moon, the area was open and vulnerable to enough light to let me get a good look at my savior.

It had a man's deep baritone, he had luminous green eyes, his hair was a bit shaggy and black as obsidian stones. His skin was so strange, like scales on a fish, a mixture of pearlescent blues and greens. He had fins on his legs and arms and I think his abdomen had slits, as if they were gills.

I threw my back against the tree trunk and struggled to breathe still, my lungs felt like they were on fire. Like I had ran ten miles in a panic, which considering the circumstances I might have preferred that option.

“I won’t hurt you.” He slowly brought his hands up.

“I saw what happened to you.” He was looking deep into my eyes.

“Who are you?” I tried to say through strangled breaths.

“A friend.” He smiled a little. I noticed his lips were purple.

“What do you want?” I asked.

He looked around us, as if he was looking for a hunter in the darkness.

“I just want to not be considered a monster, especially while there’s worse ones out in your world.” He said carefully.

I rubbed my throat, it felt like I had gargled sand.

“The town is just a mile that way.” He pointed to my left toward a road I could barely make out.

“Why are you helping me?” I looked at him pointedly, my brain automatically assuming he wanted something in return.

“Because no one helped me, you have no idea how many times something happens out here like what happened to you.” He stood up and waded into the water.

I looked to the road and back at the creature, but he was gone.

I looked around for him, shouted for him to come back but he didn’t.

When I got into town, it was the middle of the night, it was a small little rivertown but I found a diner and stumbled in. Exhaustion swept over me and the older waitress that worked there took pity on me.

She called the sheriff and soon an ambulance was on its way to take me to a hospital.

“How did you get out of the car?” the Sheriff asked me as I sat in a booth with his coat around me and a cup of coffee in my trembling hands.

“Something pulled me out.” I whispered. “My belt was stuck, but then the door just-”

“Got ripped away?” The Sheriff finished.

“Yeah.” I whispered looking up at him.

“Another tale of the Swamp Monster.” He chuckled and said something about how I must’ve pushed the door with superhuman strength, determined to live. He walked out but the waitress came over and held my hand.

“He’s not a monster, is he?” She smiled sweetly at me and squeezed my hand.

“No, he’s not.” I whispered, feeling tears well up in my eyes.

It’s been years now, so many years. I’ve forgotten some things, like the color of the car, the face of the man who locked me inside it, sometimes its hard to remember that I was in an accident at all.

But I will never forget the hero that saved me.

Sometimes I wade out into the water, and swim around the trees, completely forgetting my fear of water. Sometimes, if the moon is full and the water is calm, I sit on the shore and sometimes, I see those same green eyes peeking through the darkness of the water.

And I feel safe again.