Painter’s Vision 14: Save Me, Will Ya?

That said, if they were to get to the lonely mansion on the rocks, they needed to pass through the docks as soon as possible.

Their steps were quiet but speedy, trying not to bring attention to their movement. They didn't want more monsters following them, since they already had quite a few that were hot on their heels.

Using every bit of air in their lungs, the group ran until they finally arrived at the wooden paddock leaning crookedly into the sea.

Finally, they stopped at the harbor.

Looking around, they released a breath of relief seeing that the boats hadn't been consumed by the fire just yet, swaying gently in contrast to the scorching flames.

But the serenity of this image didn't last forever.

The sudden crackles of fire and broken planks were disturbed by distant, distraught screams of a man.

...they saw no one around, although the yells, or rather war cries, continued.

"Get away, you wretched things! Shoo—shoo!"

The noises came from the far right.

Turning their head, they spotted a familiar face fighting fiercely to keep the boats safe. He swung an oar left and right to ward off the creatures, though his efforts weren't very effective.

Old man Jenkens was doing his best.

"Take that, you little pest!"

He cursed out as he smacked a moving tentacle with the oar's blade; such a motion sent him tumbling backward. Barely holding onto the edge, he tried to save himself by balancing on the tips of his feet.

Alas, it didn't help much.

Another push from the shadowy mass sent him straight into the ocean's salty waters. One second passed, then another, and the man had yet to reach the surface.

"Geezer!"

Inase was the fastest to react. He jumped after the boatman head-first, not thinking twice about saving the life of an innocent bystander. A big splash followed right after.

His eyelids sprang open; it stung his eyes underwater, but it was a small price to pay.

He looked around, trying to pinpoint the whereabouts of the old man, but his gaze was soon pulled to the sandy bottom of the shore.

There, he saw countless adumbrali moving flatly across the ocean floor, stretching their feelers into the third dimension—awaiting their new toy. Occasionally, they lashed out, spearing a fish or two with eerie precision.

Just like Hosen had predicted, they had been wandering beneath the water, making their path from the skerry to the mainland.

Inase observed something grim along their way—a chilling confirmation that Mr.Jenkens wasn't their first target.

Scattered among the seabed were sunken corpses, dragged into the depths and left to rest in their watery grave.

"...!"

At last, they sensed the new presence—their next victim struggling.

A tendril shot toward the blonde's head, missing it by mere inches, for he twisted his body in a sharp arch, narrowly dodging it in time.

A few bubbles slipped through his mouth as he barely could hold his breath.

He was no superhuman; he knew he had to reach the old man quickly if they both wanted to survive.

Amid many obstacles, Inase violently kicked the water, twisting his body out of danger's way.

With one final push, he reached the panicking, sinking fella and seized him by the collar.

Pulling him up wasn't so simple—the man was tightly wrapped by the creatures' long, coiling appendages, reeling him in like a fish on a line.

Inase drew his knife with urgency before he slashed at the writhing tendrils.

One by one, each cut was precise.

Come on... Don't you dare drown on me, old man!

Because of the sharp edge of the blade, or maybe the pain, the shadowy shackles recoiled, loosening just enough for the old fellow to kick himself free.

Finally!

Both were ready to swim to the surface when a black, slimy limb struck in its final attempt. It unveiled its ability to ensnare its prey into a slowed-down reality—its iconic trap.

It was then, the blonde had tasted the fear of the stopped time.

His fingers couldn't move when another one of them whipped out of nowhere, striking his arm with bone-rattling force.

It was strong enough to knock his only means of protection—the knife—from his grasp. Barely gave him time to react when he watched the blade sink into the bottom of the sea and land onto the soft sand underneath.

Shit…!

Precious air escaped from his lips in desperation to reach it faster than it sank, although he knew it was impossible now that his body was affected by the potent time distortion.

What could he do in this situation?

Think Inase, think.

His eyes jumped from the knife to the old man.

If they both stayed underwater any longer, neither of them would make it out alive. Sacrifices were inevitable, and the geezer was in the way.

But...

Saving his life was also a priority before anything. He would have never been in danger if it weren't for them and the monsters that shouldn't have ever appeared in this timeline.

He had to live, so that the course of future history was preserved.

Thus, Inase grabbed him by the waist. Mustering every ounce of strength left in his body, he pushed the man upward with a powerful thrust—propelling him toward the faint glimmer of safety above.

"Go!"

He desperately opened his mouth, gambling with his lung capacity, yet strongly believing in it as well.

Time seemed to crawl when the shadows stirred beneath—their movements deliberate, hunting.

The blonde didn't dare look down. Instead, he followed the old man's trail until he broke through the waves—he clawed at the water with desperate strokes, swimming toward the surface with haste.

And Inase?

He didn't surge.

Before he could, a sharp tentacle lashed out, piercing through his side and leaving a thick trail of blood.

Pain shot through him like lightning, but rather than scream to flood his lungs, he only gritted his teeth. The surface seemed agonizingly far while every second underwater stretched into eternity.

Ugh...!

If he were on an open sea, his blood would have already pulled in the sharks with its sweet fragrance.

A striking ache filled his chest, desperately screaming for air. His lungs burned as he felt the blood leave his body.

His only hope was that Mr.Jenkens had safely reached the surface…

…which he did.

The man's wrinkled hands flailed against the cold waves until both Hosen and Roberta reached to pull him up.

Cough, cough! Cough!

"Hah… hah… These were devils, I tell ya! Haven't seen 'em fishes be so aggressive in my lifetime!"

He hacked up exhausted, breathing cold air seemed painful like swallowing a fist of needles.

Roberta and Detective Watson wasted no time in moving him away from the docks, somewhere on solid ground, while the scientist kept his eyes fixed on the surface, observing it for a while longer.

"...and Inase?"

He asked when concerns weighed heavily in his gut.

"?"

They did not understand.

"Ina- ...where is Will?"

Right. He nearly blew their cover through his growing anxieties.

"..."

The old boatman's uncertain look only deepened it further.

"Tell me!"

But Hosen ushered him, his voice a bit too aggressive—it made the elder flinch with fright.

"Young lad tried to help me before he could help himself…"

The old man's eyes fluttered from left to right, unsure of what else he was supposed to say. This youngster wouldn't be happy with any of his words; that grave frown was proof of it.

"He stayed behind me in the water…" The man sighed deeply, his voice trembling. "After that… I don't know what could've happened."

"..."

Even when they stared into the ocean waves for a long time, no one had resurfaced. Their hearts slowed down from a creeping concern.

One beat later… then another.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

Silence accompanied Hosen in what seemed like the longest moment of his life.

Did he... die?

Inase…!

The tickling feeling of chills on his skin felt as uncomfortable as ever. Cold sweat froze him in place when his mind forced him to imagine his future missions alone, or with a new, mouthwashed buddy who wouldn't know anything about what they were dealing with.

The thought of finding someone else who could tolerate his quirks and get along with him seemed almost impossible. It wasn't that easy to recruit a proper fit for such nightmarish challenges.

Hosen… wouldn't want that.

There was something about his rough, unpolished nature that the scientist had surprisingly come to appreciate. He had just begun to warm up to the guy, even if it was a little bit.

The uneasy feeling tightened his chest…

…until finally, with one last desperate stroke, Inase burst through the surface, gasping for breath—droplets sprayed in all directions.

He leaped onto the dock, coughing out water stuck in his throat; he prepped his weight with a hand that held his knife tightly, piercing its tip through the dock. Drops of seawater pitter-pattered on the wooden floor in a chaotic, yet melodic rhythm.

"Those damn fuckers sure know how to keep you at the rock bottom…"

His snarky response was a dead giveaway of feeling just fine, even with his other hand strongly pressing against a painful wound. Luckily, it didn't bleed as much anymore.

"Hah… I thought I was going to die."

Inase's voice relaxed as he inhaled fresh air after this clutch encounter.

"I'll be damned, glad to see you breathing, partner."

Detective Watson extended a steady hand, pulling the blonde onto the dock.

"Haha, well, I'm fine. I'm good."

A dry chuckle followed before his attention shifted to Hosen, who had managed to subside the sudden internal panic.

"Next time something like this happens, come and save me, will ya, doc?"

There was a spark in his eye of something the scientist couldn't quite put a finger on.

Still, at least the rowdy bastard came back alive—although Hosen was happy with it, his pride wouldn't allow him to show it.

"..." Frowning, he crossed his arms and turned around. "Get your ass up, we aren't finished with what we need to do yet."

If he was fine, then he should be working on getting them to the skerry already, ain't that right?

"Yessir~"

Inase replied with a sarcastic tone, his voice raspy from fatigue, wincing when pain flared up again—salt in the wound was the reason.

Ugh-

Sucking in air, he savoured a brief moment of rest before he pushed himself to his feet with a sly grin.

He gestured toward the old man—time to give him a little more trouble!

"Does that mean we have earned your boat again, Captain?"

Mr.Jenkens blinked, surprised at his sudden change of attitude and a lighthearted tone.

"I think saving you earns at least a ride or two and coming back without worrying over how you'd kill us even if your beauty is in pieces."

A bargaining chip ready at hand—his life for the boat.

"Hmph!" The elder crossed his arms, feigning mild offense at the very suggestion he'd ever be stingy, "Even without you saying so, I'd have given it to you anyway!"

He pointed toward his boat.

"She's all yours."

His proud grin widened as he gave them an approving nod and a confident thumbs-up—

"You know what to do, lads."

—but this short, heartwarming scene was soon disturbed by a swarm of shadows crawling their way from the bottom of the sea.

"I… think it's not the time for the smiles, boys." Roberta was the first to notice, tugging at the hem of Inase's jacket. "Better prepare for more to come."

"They really don't want to let me rest, do they..."

Exhaustion weighed heavily on his limbs; even so, he groggily stepped to the front, placing himself between the painter and the approaching danger.

The ground had become a swirling void of urchins, like a black, rough sea, churning and restless. It flooded closer with each passing second, until their surrounding was swallowed whole. The sheer number of the gathering adumbrali suffocated them.

"What we need to do," Hosen muttered tensely to his partner, realizing how cornered they were, "is get to the boat. We get to the mansion fast, and we deal with the source. That way, we will be able to save the whole town by uprooting the origin. When we destroy the painting, we also destroy their exit, and once the dawn comes… they will have nowhere to hide."

They would evaporate—was his hypothesis after witnessing firsthand how much they hated white light.

"We cut through now or we're done for."

His buddy nodded in agreement.

"We gotta move!"

The wounded one barked at others. The abrupt motion forced him to wince, giving a chance for one to lunge first at him from the dark…

But as it did, a gunshot rang out—then another, both echoing uselessly into the void.

Detective Watson stood firm, raising his revolver, jaw tight from concentration, eyes sharp, focused on the target like a hawk's while he fired, and…

He missed… and he missed again.

"..."

Inase's disappointed, stone face couldn't be described by a mere few words. He took it upon himself to effortlessly avoid the incoming attacks, shredding any expectations he had for that man.

"..."

Really?

Even the living shadows seemed to be bellowing at his poor aim.

Inase couldn't utter a word for the longest time—only blinked, dumbfounded, staring at the detective who claimed to be their best support.

This man dared to call himself a professional?

"Just how horrible of a shot can you be!? Where did your aim from earlier go—!?"

He finally snapped.

"I am no good in stressful situations."

Watson advocated for his strange case of misfire. His hand was trembling comically while he gripped his gun. He tried to appear cool, but the nervousness was seeping through like a broken mask showing his true face. The face of a wimp.

It was too late to play a hard-boiled persona now, detective.

"You should have said it sooner—!"

But before the words fully left Inase's lips, a strong hand had pressed against his back. When he wasn't looking, it shoved him into a massive shadow that slithered beneath his feet, opening the gates to another dimension.

"Will!"

Miss Roberta's voice rang in his ears before he could realize he was already falling into the dark crevasse.

Hah, the wounded were always the easiest prey, weren't they?

Inase understood it all too well. Their enemies obviously set their sights on him, who was wounded. It was no surprise that he had become their target, but a shame he couldn't predict it earlier.

Damn you...!

With the last bit of his strength, his head turned to take a glimpse at who it was.

Of course.

It would have been effortless to gather stories from the intoxicated locals, spilling information without a second thought.

Unnoticed by no one, never questioned about his identity or suspected of anything unusual—he was just the bartender, nothing more. As long as his customer's glass stayed full, it didn't matter who was pouring the drinks.

"After a drunk night at the bar, who would have suspected a thing… right?"

Inase groaned hoarsely; his mouth turned into a crooked smile as he knowingly fell into the abyss.

"WILL—!!!"