Maybe twenty-feet away, where the moon pool probably was, there was an eruption of rising bubbles. The water in Entry Lock thrashed with waves and ripples as more of the creature emerged. She found herself looking at a bulging cluster of pods or fleshy bubbles that were roughly formed into some great glistening hood. And near the top were a circle of close-packed green eyes, each larger than a softball. They were moist and gelid. And they blinked in unison, a shiny transparent membrane sliding over them and retreating.

She gasped.

Yes, that was its head and its eyes and somewhere down there was the mouth which would ingest her.

(IN THE END, WE ALWAYS RETURN TO THE SEA)

(IT’S IN OUR BLOOD)

(IT’S OUR DESTINY)

(IT’S OUR HERITAGE)

A roping mass of tentacles nudged her forward, then forward again. Not roughly really, just insistently. She fought and splashed, but there was no denying their strength. She was still crying, still shaking with spasms. Those eyes held her and…fascinated her. They were not evil or predatory, really, just alien and huge and starkly weird. And maybe it was rioting imagination, but they almost looked…intelligent.

Breathing in and out very fast, she said, “Get it over with…I can’t take anymore of…this…”

The eyes blinked.

And the tentacles in the water began to move and slither. They pressed in and she could feel them coiling around her under the water. They slid around her legs and waist and belly. This was it. She knew this was it. She’d asked it to kill her and now it was going to grant that final wish.

But the tentacles did not squeeze.

They kept up an even pressure, but one that was not uncomfortable, but almost…reassuring. Like the arm of a loved one looped around you in a time of stress or pain. As if…as if that thing felt her pain and was trying to comfort her. Manic laughter burst in her head at the idea of it. Regina never comforted me. She hated me. She despised everything I was. I saw murder in her eyes a dozen times. The tentacles were not cold, but warm and getting warmer. Deliciously warm in the freezing water. Some mad impulse in her almost liked the idea of them wrapping her up.

You’re losing your fucking mind!

(NO ALICE YOU ARE BECOMING)

(SOON YOU WILL SWIM IN THE CITY)

“I don’t want that…Mama, please, oh please, I don’t want that…”

(YES)

(YOU WERE ALWAYS DRAWN TO THE SEA)

(YOU CANNOT ESCAPE YOUR HERITAGE)

The tentacles had been cold, so very cold, but now they were warm. Almost as if they were reacting to her own core temperature. Trying to keep her warm and comfortable.

And the way they pressed against her.

Touching.

Feeling.

Whispering over her flesh.