I prayed my air tank would last such a long encounter. I’d made it deeper than most had dared to at this time of day. Desperation guided my trembling limbs.

There it was. Bobbing the length of two cars in front of me. No doubt pondering my intrusion. Its figure drifted toward me and I was filled with repulsed awe. The way it undulated. Its translucent glow. My “Guide to Mystical Whatchamacallits” did not do this thing justice.

To the untrained eye, it looked like a sodden piñata, topped with a golden horn. Those fresh to these waters might attempt to capture such a beast. To sell its 165ft tentacles for an early retirement. But I knew better than to answer the siren call. The beast had paralyzed thousands of victims last year alone. My best bet was to remain perfectly still, in wait for its judgement. Would it deem me worthy of blessing?

Like a butterfly drawn to a flower, the paranormal pulp rippled toward me. Sanguine terror streaked my senses. I shut my eyes, sure of impending agony. The collective mass of the mystical creature wrapped a tentacle around my diving helmet. It lowered its glittering horn.