
Oil Slick: A Short Horror Story by Alyanna Poe
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Walking along the beach one morning, like I always do, I noticed a curious sheen across the water. I veered off my path to check it out.
It appeared to be an oil spill.
A boat floated, overturned, off in the distance, and trailing behind it, an excess of oil. It bobbed up one time before finally sinking below the murky depths.
It was cold, windy, and grey, and I hadn’t an idea how I could help the people that were surely aboard. Squinting, I scanned the area where the boat was still sending up air bubbles. There was no movement.
Looking around the beach, I found no one. So, I pulled out my phone to call the police when a figure emerged from the water.
A pale child, his hair soaked in oil, black as night, came forth. Unblinking, he walked within two feet of me and stopped.
Staring up at me, as I considered running away, he tugged on my jacket sleeve. It was such a normal act for a child, but something about this kid felt odd…
He said, “I sunk the ship.”
Sad. Despite the child’s blank demeanor, he sounded sad.
I felt for the kid. I too had crashed a few cars in my day.
“Help.”
He pulled me toward the water. I didn’t question it. I followed. He led me into the it. The oil soaked into the toes of my running shoes, then into the hems of my pants. I followed without a thought.
Deeper and deeper we went.
The boy was underwater, walking on the sand below us. His grip on my hand was iron tight. As the water crept up to my chest, I began to shiver.
Forty feet from shore, my neck was under. With each wave, my tongue received a salty wash.
“Agnes!”
A voice.
A voice in the distance called to me.
“Agnes!”
The warm hum that had been running through my mind ceased. I spun around, but the boy’s hand gripped harder and pulled me forward.
“Agnes! The boy’s got you!”
I tried to stand in place, to plant my feet into the sand, but he pulled me further into the oily sea. My feet lifted, and my body floated upward, my feet unable to touch the ground.
“Agnes! Tell him you don’t like kids!”
I barely heard her above the sloshing water filling my ears.
I ducked my head underwater, taking a giant breath first.
I pulled him close, astonished as to how he remained steady on the ocean floor.
I screamed, “I don’t like kids!”
His head corkscrewed around, his shoulders unmoving. Black eyes, darker than the sea, stared at me. Stunned, I held the remaining breath I had.
“I can be anything you like, Agnes.”
A tail sprouted from the boy's butt, and his legs bent at odd angles. His hand slipped away from mine, his hand replaced by a paw. A dog stood on the ocean floor where the boy once did.
Then a cat.
A horse.
Then a house sprung forth.
I bolted for the surface as the boy continued to change.
A car.
A dress.
An octopus.
Reaching a tentacle toward me, I heard him scream,
“I CAN BE ANYTHING YOU WANT, AGNES. JUST HELP ME WITH MY SHIP.”
The octopus was then a skeleton, then a dresser! His screams warbled in the water as I swam away.
Clarissa held her arms open from shore. I could see her just above the waves. My eyes burned from the salty water, but I knew I was close.
My feet planted onto the sand, and I ran toward her open arms.
The boy turned into a boat himself, sinking and screaming.
I was on dry land before I knew it, dripping with water and fear.
Embracing Clarissa, I kissed her, something I'd always wanted to do, and she kissed me passionately.
I pulled away for a breath when I saw her eyes, dark and murky as the ocean I'd just pulled myself from. She spoke softly.
“I can be anything you want, Agnes.”