2009-03-12, 12:19 AM
Note:
[SPOILERQueen of the Mariana""]"Queen of the Mariana"
Ricard loosed a faint gasp of awe as the Queen reached the floor of the Challenger Deep. At approximately 36,000 feet below sea level, it was the lowest pit to be found in the Earth. Had it not been for the Queen's pressure sphere, the awesome force which permeates such deep of places would've inevitably crushed both Ricard and his colleague, Maria. Both were employed with the task of recording all forms of life they witnessed via the Queen's prominent porthole.
A band of quartz bulbs compensated for the utter lack of light, shedding a milky white glow over the dark blanket of ooze spanning as far as they could see. Several gatherings of sea cucumbers laid carelessly amongst themselves, while shrimp cast in ghostly white hues attended to a few fish corpses scattered across the ocean floor. The sound of graphite on paper filled the chamber as the pair painstakingly jotted down each subtle feature of their observations.
The porthole went black. Maria struggled to locate the source of the problem, checking every possible gauge. Ricard set in disappointment; a shallow frown smeared across his face. He assumed the Queen would be forced to resurface prematurely.
Suddenly from the porthole cast a brilliant emerald glow, very much unlike that created by the Queen's lanterns. The pair instrinctively raised their palms to their eyes.
It took no more than a minute for Maria to realize that this new lighting was harmless to view. Her hands slowly released her sight: now one of absolute confusion. No part of the vessel was capable of casting such light, nor had she remembered seeing anything above-ground to compare it to. Ricard, however, remained more enthusiastic. He theorized aloud that the light could've been a factor of some peculiar natural function in the Earth's structure (much like the Auroras of the poles), and that he and Maria may have been the first to witness such an event.
His eyes widened from the possibilities dashing through his imagination. He reached to the porthole as if to confirm his reality. The glass was unnaturally warm.
Maria watched in terror as Ricard's body spontaneously convulsed against the curved steel wall. His thrashing figure destroyed several gauges before falling into a slump, stained a lush green by the light. His breath turned heavy and began to follow unnatural rhythms. Maria sat motionless. Not only was she unable to make sense of the recent happenings; she also had a grave feeling that Ricard's apparent instability could very well cause him to attack her without provocation.
A stalemate was born and died within a matter of minutes. The thick heaving which had become of his breath was soon lost to the silence of the deep. Maria hesitated, though not without repressing her worry for Ricard's well-being, before attempting to check his vital signs. She knelt over to grasp his wrist.
"Touch the light, Maria." Though spoken in Ricard's voice, Maria knew it hadn't come from his own mouth.