S H O RT S TO R I E S F R O M T H E G LO B A L C LA S S R O O M |
2014
The silvery shadow moved again, sinuously curling closer. Scientific curiosity and sheer terror battled within me as I
glanced at it; terror won as it glanced back, through eyes as black and soulless as spheres of ink. I pulled the warning
cord, sharply, as I thrust myself away from the glittering shadow and further into the bell.
I barely registered that I felt no resistance in the rope. I spent several seconds in incomprehension and terror before
I noticed that my lifeline was hanging limply in my grasp, severed no doubt by the spire that had scraped across my
metallic tomb. I was alone.
The realization shook me to the core, and I fell against the wooden bench, trembling. I couldn’t see the shadow
in the water any longer, but I could hear it sing; a low moaning howl echoed around me, an almost plaintive,
whimpering melody. As it