From the Sea

The lifeless sea waters of an icy dark watery abyss crashed about with unforgiving force. The ocean was a watery grave that consumed all that fell prey to its deadly wake… For a brief moment, the waters calmed—followed by a hand frantically bursting through to the surface.

Grasping at a combination of snow and wet sand with numb blue fingers, the hand clawed for dear life at the shore. A burly man's figure suddenly emerged, coughing and gasping as sea water filled his lungs. Each breath was sharp and burned his chest. It felt as though icicles were forming in his rib cage.

Dragging his body forward inch by inch, he fought to keep his hold on the frozen bank. His palms bled, as the rocky surface cut into them. It became increasingly difficult for his hands to maintain their grip, as they became stiff and difficult to manipulate. There was no escaping the cold, it was everywhere around him and consuming him fast…

Momentarily, he thought he gained a foothold, only to be met by another freezing wave sweeping over him. Water poured up into his mouth and nose, snuffing out what little air he managed to suck in. Panic overtook him, as the current attempted to pull him back into the void. With fleeting strength, he grasped for anything he could, clawing at rocks and ice with his fingernails, as he tried to dig his limp toes into the gritty sand beneath him.

With a hooked finger, he managed to clumsily grip around a half buried rock. His brain told his hands to do one thing, but the message didn’t seem to quite connect, as feeling left them even further. A sharp patch of gravel grinded against his ribs.

“Ah-!” He opened his mouth to scream, only to have it filled with salt water.

Feeling as though his chest was about to burst, his heart pounded rapidly. His body now moved on its own volition though sheer instinct, using every ounce of energy it had remaining to hang on for his survival. A chunk of ice cut at his shins, leaving a gash across each of them.

As his body was about to succumb to pain and exhaustion, the sea showed mercy, releasing him from its grasp, as it receded back.

Laying face down in the sand, under the dark moonless night sky, the bearded man's naked body shivered uncontrollably. Despite being covered from head to toe in cuts and bruises, he felt nothing. It was as though his body wasn’t his own any more. His teeth chattered as a wintery wind, that was equally as frigid as the water he escaped, swept across his back. Flurries of snow began to fall from the sky, peppering him.

Stand! His brain screamed at him, while his legs refused to listen.

He felt impossibly heavy, like a mass of dead weight. Even so much as lifting his head took incredible effort. As the cold continued to cloud his senses, a sudden urge came across him…

Maybe I should just sleep. The thought tempted him, as he felt an unusual warmth in his chest.

As his eyelids began to grow heavy, he blinked hard, snapping himself momentarily out of his daze.

“H-help...” He barely managed to gag out of his throat. Letting out a violent cough, he hacked up more sea water, which simultaneously poured out of his nostrils. His vision became narrow, as his hearing turned muffled.

As his sight clouded, a light subtly flickered into view in the distance.

He dismissed it at first, thinking it was just a hallucination caused by his fading consciousness. The light appeared to bob up and down, as if it was trying to lure him. If he was able to move, it probably would have worked.

Nightlights are for children. He deliriously thought to himself, once again starting to feel tired.

The light continued to grow closer. He tried to raise his head to focus on it, but his neck was so weak, all he could manage to do was tilt it into a slightly better field of view.

“Der borte!” A voice that rang through the air.

The man weakly flinched, unsure if he was hearing things now. His eyelids drooped, despite the lights continuing toward him. It was becoming harder for him to maintain his consciousness.

“Det er en mann.”

The words he was hearing were meaningless to him. It was nothing more than background noise.

Snow crunched beneath a set of boots, as Four dark blobs approached him with a lantern hovering beside them. The man wanted to say something, but could only let out a weak groan. The group murmured amongst themselves in gibberish.

One of the figures gestured toward the sea, while the tallest of the four knelt down with its arm extending toward the man's head. What felt like two rough fingers were pressed against the side of his throat.

“Han har ikke mye tid.” The silhouette spoke with concern and urgency in its voice.

After a moment of deliberation, the group exchanged glances before nodding to each other in agreement. One removed their trench coat, draping it over the freezing man's nude body. It was made of thick coarse fabric and smelled of cigar smoke and fish.

A temporary reprieve came over him, his cloudy vision just briefly subsided enough to make out the group of men aiding him. Their faces were still blurry, but all of them had long thick beards and were fairly big-boned in stature.

Sliding their hands under his arms and legs, they lifted him. His body was so numb, he didn’t even realize that he had left the ground. Lifting him onto their shoulders, the men began carrying him away from the shoreline.

The man looked back at the rolling waves of the sea that had nearly become his tomb. With the last of his consciousness, he managed to catch a glimpse of an illuminated village in the distance. Finally, the last of his strength gave out and his vision faded to black…