*Splash*
Charles' crash landed into disgusting waters, extremely hard. The impact sent his air out his lungs, squeezing tightly, compressing what little oxygen he had. In a desperate sense of survival, Charles flapped his arms with great force, managing to surface in time before drowning could ensue.
(Oh GODS, I CAN BARELY SWIM!)
His throat dried despite his current water intake. His fingers twitched to grab onto something to float above. Eyes darted, but obscured from water stringing them. Charles' left eye felt more affected than his right. It itched, it burnt, it blurred, he could only close it shut, to work with a lack of depth perception toward the direction he last saw the pug being swept. His mouth clasped closed to avoid further water intake that could fill his lungs if not careful, although he knew it wouldn't take much more if he wasn't fast to the dog.
Wave after wave, Charles felt each one bruise his frail frame. The hits dug themselves deep, to the bone center. His arms strained from every single fiber of muscle, constricted by ice cold water piercing him like needles. His right hand thrust first then left and right again, rapidly working tired, to keep him afloat. Charles took an instinctive inhale, to be caught with water entering his nostrils, sending a burning feeling into his head, forced to close his eyes to wince in pain. Charles was now working blind. His ears blotted by water bubbles, muffling his hearing further, to almost complete darkness.
(Please, just give me a sign, a beacon to direct me. Just one, one bit of luck, please).
He was beginning to give in, let himself lose again, to drift off like the small petals of leaves forgotten so easily. No one would remember him, nor his name.
…
*bark, bark, bark*.
The desperate whining bark from the pug echoed a crawl into his muted ears. A needle through a shield to reach its target, to remind him why he was in his current predicament. The boy from above the railings, voice shot his other ear, in cries for him to continue moving.
(NO, I can't die yet, I WON'T die yet! Not until I finished what I started, to see one last smile, to be remembered for something good).
Charles' heart ramped its drum to a thunderous rhythm, stronger than the last beat, ringing through his core body. He gritted his teeth against itself harder and harder until he felt them bleed. Charles' eyes shot open, narrowed to a tunnel focused on the flailing dog. A deep warmth seeps its way in, heating the tubes of his veins, unconstricting his muscle fibers, to relax them back into momentum. Power paddling his way there closer by the second. Numbness sheltered his crying nerves, without realizing hadn't taken
a breath in a minute. Using the current to push himself quicker.
"FINALLY"!
Charles grasped the frightened dog, swung it over his head to cool air. Letting it breathe, what at the moment was sweet fresh air into its lungs, not in care of the smoke filled clouds. His eyes sparkled, victorious. A ting of a smile twitched across his lips, swimming back to the side of the canal he jumped from in an all high from accomplishment, energizing him ahead.
By now, his heroic escapade had drawn eyes from bypassing onlookers on their daily commute to work, peaked by the commotion of a man in the canal. It wasn't a common occurrence for the working class, which served as good entertainment to watch Charles struggle his way back up. Some bunched up to the railing for a better view, while spewing half hearted mock words of encouragement. The boy slightly smothered by the growing crowd, gave Charles relieved teary eyes. His small smile formed in wiggles, that shock a wee bit. His short arm reached out to his dog from the closing Charles. Charles' eyes drank in on the boy's smile and felt a sense of confelicity. The moment was shattered when the boy's smile etched to horror. Eyes widened, lips trembled, fear rattled the boy's hand as he pointed beyond Charles.
"CROC"!
Cried out the boy. Other onlookers shifted their gaze to where the boy was pointing, then shouts erupted all over, screaming at him to swim faster. Charles swept his gaze back a moment, to glance over the massive reptilian closing on him and the dog. Its haunting hiss surged Charles flight receptors, sending it haywire, scrambling his rational thinking. Amidst the moment, time began a stagnant pace, people's movements were perceived slower to Charles. His mind had time to process more outcomes, different scenarios, and hear the same whispers again, telling him to gaze up if he really craved his own preservation. To marvel at the 'Blue Moon', gazing back at him. It felt as if an ineffable force was observing him as a small chest piece. He couldn't put a finger on how such a massive celestial body was visible in daylight, smeared with smoke, dark clouds, and blurred vision. An ethereal sense wafted into his being, filled by liquid like blue wind streams invisible to other spectators. Charles' body felt lighter, stronger, more perspective, to a degree his feet throttled with power comparable to a speeding boat, propelling him so fast, he couldn't control the output.
Charles darted through water faster than the approaching croc could match. The splash sprawled droplets, constantly assaulting his face, splashing his left eye again to be bombarded with diseased water, blinding him once more. Already in his current state of uncontrol, the obscured vision linked itself to Charles' bad luck. Small spackles permitted him glances to the wall of the canal rapidly growing closer, right as his head blasted itself into the wall. A sickening crunch echoed to his ear, then black out. Profuse gushing of blood sprayed from his open skull, though his arm remained strong. Still raised in the air, holding the pug. From the impact spot, laid a small crater, exactly to his head size.
Those looking at top, screeched to the gruesome image, while others ran off to call for authorities or find a way to pull him up. The boy kept quiet, too quiet. His face was frozen still in a complete silence of trauma witnessing a man's skull fractured open. Suddenly Charles screamed awake from the jolt of pain.
"AHHHH, PUTAIN"!
He cursed to his right foot being violently shredded into by a pair of jaws. The jaws from the croc that finally closed the distance between them and now had sunk its teeth into his foot up his ankle. Its crushing force clamped harder as he thrashed harder to free himself. Charles desperately used his left foot to kick the crocodile rapidly in the eyes, nose, and jaw. He used what little once of energy he had left, fighting the croc off to keep the dog up high, managing to loosen his leg from his bite before it performed the death roll. The onlookers who stayed, threw random prices of trash and rock, in hopes of frightening it away. Charles gripped the crater his head created as a hold from the smooth wall, while the animal attempted dragging him into deeper waters, where he would have less leverage to fight back. His muscles ached so painfully, each limb heavier by the moment. He gradually lost his grip, each finger slipping from rock.
*BANG, BANG*
Two shots rang out, deafening the crowd and Charles, at its discharged. The crushing jaws of the croc's jaws loosened on his right leg. He shook it off his leg since its teeth were lodged in his flesh. Looking back, it had a bullet hole in its eye and forehead, floating away at the current. Charles craned his neck up, looking toward the direction where he heard the shots. To meet his gaze was the older gentleman from before, when he inquired about the 'tower of knowledge', with gun in hand. A long barrel, shine gloss, six chamber revolver, slightly still smoking after its shots. The revolver was still concentrated toward the croc before the older gentlemen holstered it into his inner left breast pocket of his coat.
A twitch rippled across his jaw muscle. Charles felt a ping of relief washing into him. His vision turned red from his bleeding head, seeping blood down onto his face.
The dog still in Charles' firm grip whimpered softly, paws swiping forward toward the direction of his young owner above them. Its small body began to squirm in rapid motion, trying to free itself of Charles' hold. Chalres kept his fingers firm in place to keep it from falling back into the water.
"Has anyone retrieved a rope"?
The older gentleman inquired with such unnatural calm in his voice. Passersby from earlier who had run off to inform authorities of a man in the canal being attacked by a crocodile had returned breathless with police wearing black uniforms. They set up an immediate perimeter to clear space from the crowd.
"Protocol three-blue".
Shouted an officer to his fellow officers. The larger officer unfurled a ring of rope down toward Charles, while a second officer dug into a medical bag in search of herbs that could be grounded into medicine to stop the bleeding. A third laid out a white cotton blanket.
Once the rope had been lowered far enough, Charles could reach. The officers began a steady pull, careful not to startle Charles with a sudden burst in power. Charles held with his remaining strength. His fingers shook heavily each second longer it took them to pull him up. The dog was pressed close to his chest for insurance it wouldn't squirm free, though the pug showed no signs of further distress.
"Just another couple meters, sir. You'll be back up in no time".
The larger officer insured Charles, during the rescue. Charles nodded slightly. He felt his head go heavy, bopping side to side. His eyelids fought to remain open longer against his sudden drowsy state. Charles felt as though he was chained down by weights.
The officers pulling him up noticed his shift of consciousness, took liberties into their own hands and broke protocol rules. Their arms quickened to reel Charles up before his hold faltered and fell back in. By the time Charles was within arms reach, the officer with the medical beg had finished preparations for proper aid. Pulling Charles over the railings. They took soft hold to lay him slowly down on the cotton blanket so their more trained medical officer could take over.
Through slow shutting and reopening eyelids, Charles took raspy breaths in search of the boy. His gaze lazily swept through the crowd, until he halted when his eyes landed on the boy finally.
"Take yo..you're…friend".
Charles attempted his best to lift the dog at the boy. The medical officer took his arm gently and guided it back down, before scooping the small animal from his grip.
"Return the dog back to his owner, would you".
The medical officer handed the dog to the officer next to him. With a nod, the officer took steps in the direction Charles' arm had extended to.
"Here ya are".
The officer said to the boy as he placed the dog back into his owner's arms, which was still currently occupied with Charles' coat and hat. A small snuffle escaped the boy's nose, when reunited with his beloved friend, though his eyes were binged by guilt. He cradled his small dog in his arms, although it appeared bigger compared to him.
Pressing a towel down on Charles' head, the medical officer made quick work grinding up a special blend and applying to the opening wound. A thick layer was spread evenly, clogging more blood loss. His attention was next drawn to Charles' right leg, which had been chewed at. Removing the old, worn shoe, then lifting the length of Charles trouser exposed Charles shredded flesh, or lack of. Red stained white bone peeked from openings, met the cool wind.
By this moment, Charles had lost consciousness. The pain and blood loss had finally caught up and taken its toll on his body. It was just blank again, a calm void before the storm would rage once more in his mind. Whilst his body is carried off, he'll be forced to confront those faceless figures and their endless whispers.
———————
Many moons had risen during the nights. Many days Charles' unconscious body had been spent in dire care. Much time had been incapable to free himself of those figures. Many times he shouted, ran, and attempted physical violence to them.
The figures stayed their distance. Never approach. Never more than their whispers, except that clown and its mocking grin ever infuriating. Its attempts to harm him had failed numerous times. Charles kept his stance. Always fighting it off each moment it reappears endlessly, until he would be allowed to awaken.
———————
Slowly by gradually, Charles felt his eyelids rise open. His vision retained its blur at first, but gradually adjusted to sunlight streaming through curtained windows. The right side of his vision cleared further than the left.
Clock strikes 6, where the seas part.