From Below

by Darcy Coates

Then the voice rose, flooding his ears, filling his head, raw and battered with terror: “There are bodies in the walls.”

This was absolutely spine chilling. I can’t imagine hearing this message over the phone, let alone in the middle of the ocean on a ship in the middle of the night.

People had been trying to strip her dreams away for her whole life. It wasn’t her place to do that to someone else.

Admirable of Cove to not want to squash Aidan’s ambition, but I have a sense that something is going to go wrong with letting him come along. After reading this passage, I knew the butterfly effect would change the course for the crew.

He let go, allowing himself to float back from the ship, his heart skittering too fast. The awe and anxiety were being replaced with something darker. Dread. In the brief moment he’d touched the metal, he’d felt the danger of the place. This ship wasn’t a gem on the ocean floor, waiting to be found. It was a trap. A monstrous, hideous trap. Unfeeling, unyielding.

Hestie was finding it harder to breathe naturally. It should have been an autonomous action, but somehow the idea that she was underwater had become lodged in her mind and she had to deliberately draw and release each breath or else her subconscious would attempt to hold it instead.

This feeling is so scary. I’ve felt this before when I’ve been in my head, but I can’t imagine adding the feeling of being stuck 300ft under the ocean in a ship wreck on top of that. The idea makes me feel short of breath just thinking about it.

The ocean could make a person paranoid. The lack of light, the exhausting pressure, and the sensory deprivation led to the brain grasping at anything it could to make sense of its environment…with very mixed results.

I swear every minute that passes with the crew being down in the ship makes me more and more on edge. It’s so nerve wracking, but in the best way possible. The fear of being isolated in such a depraved environment with virtually nothing but your own thoughts and the lack of senses… ugh, it makes me so uncomfortable. The author is doing a great job at describing how the divers feel.

A true ghost ship. A phantom of the deep, manned by the bodies of the dead.

When you go somewhere most people can’t or try something dangerous, there is always a fee. You either pay with caution and a level head, or you pay with your life.

“That’s you, right? Or is it Hestie? Someone’s holding on to my foot.” The silence dragged out for what felt like an eternity. Then Vanna said, softly, “No. We’re still on the higher floor.”

The fact that I had to leave off on this cliff hanger is criminal.

She shoved the thought aside, more irritated at its presence than uncomfortable. If her brain wanted to cope with edgy, morbid comments, well, it could at least do it discreetly.

Relatable in so many ways for me. Even though I’m not 300ft deep in the ocean, sometimes my intrusive thoughts are so irritating that I get annoyed with them rather than anxious about them. I would find it virtually possible to stay as calm as Cove though in her situation.

They were trapped within its snow globe now, clinging to whatever gave them comfort as their world was shaken. They could not be saved through hiding.

Regeneration followed after death. Growth required change. Life was a constant battle of give-and-take, a bittersweet tango that demanded full participation.