text: I remembered the slime. That slime--that disgusting ooze that coated me after I had escaped its grasp was the first thing that came back to me. Then, I remembered the eyes. Long forgotten was that awful day, so many years ago. I must’ve buried deep within me, hoping it would never return to the forefront of my mind. It was supposed to be a relaxing fishing trip, just me and the sea. The possibilities were as endless as the blue ocean horizon before me. I felt freedom on the sea, and a connection with mother nature. My wife warned me not to go alone. But I wanted time to think, decompress--forget the stresses of the world and work and bills. All of my worries melted away as the sea swayed my small, yet reliable, vessel on its gentle waves. I felt like a baby back in my mother's arms, being rocked gently to sleep. The sea was my mother that day, and she rocked all my cares away. But she couldn’t protect me from all the horrors she held. I threw my line attached with a hook and heavy sinker into the sparkling water. The light plopping sound cut through the creaking of my boat and the gentle splashing of the waves against her bow. The line fell deeper and deeper into the unknown below. I opened my cooler and moved the ice aside and grabbed a cold tall boy. I popped the tab, took a sip, and waited for a bite. It's lonely out at sea. There's nothing to look out in the endless blue on blue. I regretted not bringing a companion with me. I missed home, even though I had only been gone a few hours. I thought I would enjoy some time alone. But I was growing frustrated, Nothing had bitten my line all day. The blue skies, that once made me feel free, turned gray and I felt boxed in. An awful sense of foreboding came over me. Just as I was going to head back into port, my reel began to spin out of control. The line went deeper and deeper into the sea at a rapid pace. But I couldn't stop it, the handle spun too fast. As I tried, the whirling handle nearly broke my fingers. I had two hundred feet of line and, despite my excitement of the bite, I worried my catch would take my line, rod, and reel--and the whole damn ship. Finally, I ran out of line, but the line didn’t break, nor did the rod jump into the sea. Instead, the ship started to tilt towards the stern until water filled the hull. Panic set in as I feared I would lose my boat, and, possibly, my life. I ran towards the bow, which now was some five or so feet above the water line. From there I saw the black outline of a creature crest the surface of the water. I didn't remember what it looked like until I saw it on TV, just today. All I remembered until today was the red eyes. The red eyes were the last thing I saw before my vessel capsized, bow over stern, and I was thrown into the sea. Exactly what happened from the time I was thrown overboard and when I was rescued has escaped my memory, but I do recall feelings of suffering in the lost time. My body felt like it was alight, like the ocean was made of fire. My mind was lost in darkness and confusion. I saw nothing but blackness and felt nothing but fire. It was as if the red eyes I saw belonged to the devil himself, he brought me down to the burning flames of hell. When I awoke, I floated among the wreckage. My face and life preserver were covered in the most wretched slime. It was a putrid stink that made me think, not just of death, but of the rot thereafter. I tried to wash it off with ocean water when I came to, but I wasn't able to. Even when I returned home, the smell stayed with me for weeks. A rescue helicopter found me after a few hours of floating. They asked me what happened and I could not tell them. They were visibly repulsed by my smell and they tried to wash it off to no avail. When I got to the hospital, they were finally able to remove most of the slime, but the smell still lingered. My body was covered in blistering burns. As I watched the news coverage of the discovery, my wife looked to see my horrified face. Without me saying a word, she knew that it must have been the creature that had caused me harm that day. The scientists looked so pleased with themselves for capturing this abomination. The camera panned up to the eyes--those infernal, red eyes--and my body felt like it was on fire again. I screamed in pain. My heart raced as I jumped in the shower. I tried to turn on the cold water but only the putrid slime rained down on me from the faucet. I drifted into the blackness of that day at sea when this devil attacked me. My wife pulled me out of the shower, trying to stop my screaming. I opened my eyes to see the look of concern on her face. She threw a towel over me and wrapped me up. She embraced me and rocked me gently as I shook and cried. I fear this creature may forever hold its power over me.