The Gulf

The following accounts were found inside a bottle, located off the coast of Galveston.

I did “tours.”  I drive a boat throughout the Gulf of Mexico.  I started in Galveston.  The port was always extremely busy, so busy, that most of the time my small boat was overlooked.

We rode, straddling the Texas border.  We would make no stops, until we hit Mexico.  Back then, border patrol was loose.  If you slipped a few hundred dollars, you got in, no questions asked.  This was where I made most of my money.  Aside from gringos buying more than their share of alcohol, and paying to ride my boat, I made even more money smuggling my friends.  My tour ended in Nuevo Laredo.  I was from Mexico City, but I was scared for my life.  My father was beheaded in front of my grandmother when I was small.  I happened to be at the docks, and saw the previous owner of the boat, Paul.  He did these tours, up to Galveston. I snuck on one evening, amid the old women. 

He took a notice to me, and asked me what I was doing.  “I was on this tour!” I lied.  He smiled.  “For this tour, you need five hundred dollars, friend.” He told me. 

We arranged a deal that he would let me work on his boat, doing grunt work.  I was happy to oblige.  I never stepped off the boat in Nuevo.

He died in 1982, and left the boat to me.  When he died, I removed all of the bottom storage.  My living quarters were removed as well.  I turned all of this into a hidden area.  I smuggled up to twenty men, women and children up north when possible.  As I stated before, the Patrol was very lenient back then.

On the 29^th of September, I took my usual departure from Nuevo.  The clouds were alright, and the wind was in my favor.  This boat had been built in the 60’s (initially used for meat transport) and anytime we could coast I was glad to.

Aboard my “stock” were 15 “friends.”  There was an old woman that I had almost left at the dock.  She claimed she had no money, but was going to die if she didn’t go.  All of the other on board begged me not to let her on, claiming she was some kind of witch or dark magician. 

I am a skeptic, I was no Christian man.  I had read many books on board our boat as a teenager and young adult, and the occult and afterlife had no effect on me. So when I let her onboard, a few of them gave me their money back and left.  I was upset, but I still made more than enough money.

That night around three, I heard screaming below deck.  The tourists were all drunk, most asleep.  I went downstairs to check on the noise.

As I got to the latch, I was startled.  It sounded like there were clawing noises on the other side of the hatch.  There were noises that sounded like they were trying to beat the door open.

I stomped on the door.

“Be quiet! Do you want them to find us? Do you want to die in jail, my friends?”

They were all screaming now! “Witch! Witch! Let us out!” They were all crying.  I went back to the captain’s area and took a look around.  They were all standing at the edge, sipping drinks, or asleep on the foldout chairs.

I grabbed my revolver from a drawer and returned to the latch.

The noise had completely ceased.  I cocked my gun, and opened the padlock. I looked down.  It was completely dark, aside from a candle.  The faint glow illuminated the ladder down.

I peered inside before descending.  There was nothing.

I locked the latch again, and made my way to my personal area again.  I took the flashlight, looking one more time at the passengers.  They were all relaxed.  I looked at the sky.  It was a full moon.  It seemed abnormally large tonight.  The waves were dimly lit, swaying back and forth.  Beneath the ocean, the reflections of my headlights almost looked like eyes staring directly at me.  Mine didn’t have dark centers though…

I cocked my gun and made my way back.  I opened the latch, and climbed down.

There was a hideous sight to behold.  The candles were all lit now.

Hanging from the rusted hooks in the ceiling were the corpses of 14 of my friends.  They were all skinned.  The piles of skin were all in a pile in the corner.  Flies buzzed around, everywhere.  The old woman sat in the back, against the wall.  I waved my flashlight toward her.

“What have you done? What is this?” I demanded.  Her eyes were completely dark.
“What have you done?!” I screamed at her.  The smell of the corpses reminded me of my childhood. 

She began screaming.  “To make this trip, we must make sacrifices.  Did you think you made all of these trips for free? The ones below need to be fed.”

This was enough.  The woman had obviously lost it.  I left the room, locking the door again.  I could smell the rotting flesh outside, and vomited overboard.

I went to my observation area and looked out.  There was no one there.  A small trail of what looked like intestines hung over one rail.

I walked onto the deck.  There was no sign of commotion, and I had heard nothing.  No drinks were to be found, no messes made at all.  Their belongings however, were scattered around.  What the fuck was going on?

I tucked the gun inside the back of my pants.

The waves were now crashing against every side of the boat.  The sea was rougher than I had ever seen.  This was unheard of.  The weather does not simply change on a whim! The sky had become cloudy.  The stars were mostly out of sight, aside from the unnatural moon.

I climbed down the hatch once again.

“I will ask you one more time, woman.  What have you done? Why is the ocean acting like this now?”

She began laughing hysterically.  “The ones below! They will come to feed! We are all rotten! They will come soon! You will-“
I shot one bullet directly into her face.  The bullet hit her lower jaw, and I remember hearing the bone hit the wood, and the teeth spilling around it.  Blood leaked from her mouth, and her tongue hung agape. 
She lunged towards me, and I got one more shot off.  It went directly through her chest, and the exit wound made a large mess against the wall.  She stood, clutching her abdomen.  I shot once more, missing her completely.  The bullet went through the wood, and I could hear the engine stop.

I had hit something critical.  I cursed, and stared at the woman.  Her eyes were completely empty, the darkness coming from them sent chills down my back.  She took to her knees, and fell face first.  I quickly made my way up the ladder, and made sure two times that I had locked the door shut.

The boat was no longer moving in any direction.  The moon was completely blacked out.  The darkness completely consumed my vision.  I made my way to my area and grasped for the elecic lantern I kept for emergencies.

I tried and tried to turn it on, but there was no success.  I kept no lighters onboard due to the old captain’s fear of fires.  The ocean had slowed down.  It faintly brushed up against the boat. The cold silence of the night could only be enhanced by the sloshing of those black, sinister waves.

I sat in my chair, clueless what to do.  The engine was now dead.  I had no way of wayfaring. The night was completely blacked out.  Not a single star was visible.

The moon was gone as well.  There was no navigation at this point.

Behind me, I heard a faint plop.  My spine tensed up.  Something was sliding away-no, towards me. More plops.  First a few, then more.  Dozens of them.  My field of vision was about a foot in front of me.  I saw something that I can never forget.  Tentacles, thicker than even the largest python I had ever seen, were sliding inward from both side of the boat. 

My eyes widened, and a faint whimper escaped from my throat.  I tried once again to get my lantern to work.  I mashed the on button, over and over. 

I wish that I had not tried, that I had just jumped overboard and made my way to the shore. 

The lantern flickered on, slowly at first.  In front of me, I could see the entire body of the boat.

Hundreds of tentacles were lined up across the deck.  All of them were a dark grey, fleshy color.  Their puckers were stuck against the deck.  These were twice the size of a common dinner plate.

At the head of the boat, nothing was to be seen.  The ocean crashed softly against the sides of the boat.

I turned around to make my way back into the smuggling area. 

A mountain of flesh one hundred times the size of my boat floated behind the deck.  A singular eye peered at me, with no emotion, no thought.  It blinked once, coldly.  I stood, frozen in place. 

I remember that noise.  That cracking noise.  The wooden planks began giving, snapping one by one.  Then, instantly, the entire boat began to crack.  The noise was so loud that I lost all hearing instantly. The last thing I remember hearing was the roar of my ship being ripped in half in almost a second.

I fell in the water.  The planks cut against me, and I remember feeling one of those tentacles slither against my leg as I fell in the water.  The salt stung my open wounds. In the water, I could see nothing.  I tried to swim “up” but direction had no definition here.  The sea was completely engulfed in darkness.  I sat for a moment, accepting my death.

Then, I saw the darkness move.  It slid away, faster than any plane I had seen.  It was gone.  I could see the moon above me, and made my way to the surface.

There was nothing left.  Absolutely nothing.  It had to be around four AM.  The sun rose soon after, and a deep-sea fishing boat found me.  I was found 240 miles away from the shore, almost in the heart of the Gulf.

I write this note, in the hopes that someone finds it and heeds my warning:

Never travel on the Gulf at night.