Delphinophobia
Dolphins are sweet and playful creatures, until you’re alone in the ocean with one.
by Holly Nicholls
Being out on the deck brings me peace. It also brings me a sense of foreboding. Feeling too small and frail in such a brilliantly dangerous universe. The soft ups and downs of the ship lull me into this calm state as I stare into the underbelly of the stars.
Ch-Crunk!
Connecting with a tall wave, the ship shudders. Like an invisible hand, the motion pushes me over the safety railing. I grip the outside of the railing as icy darts of salt water splash against my ankles and up my back. The wind whips through my flesh, chilling the marrow inside my bones. As I use my strength to pull myself up, another harsh thrash of a large wave rolls the boat to its side. Where had these big waves suddenly come from? The captain would usually warn us of bad weather, and if I knew I wouldn’t have been out here feeling small in the first place.
“Help! Oh god, someone please help!” I scream into the icy fingers of the wind.
“Help!” I try again, clinging to the swaying ship as the muscles in my arms burn and lose strength. No one responds. No one comes running to my rescue. Not even when my lungs burn from screaming. My muscles are acidic as I try to haul myself up on the ever-moving vessel. Waves arch over me and splash up onto the deck. Urgency tightens every single fibre of my will to hold on. A sharp rocking motion releases me. My dress billows as I fall into the dark, icy depths. I swim frantically to the surface in time to see the cruise liner disappear behind another tall wave. By the time the crew realises one of their passengers is missing, it will be too late.
My teeth chatter as I try to peel off the heavy dress. I am twice as heavy with it on. It will be easier to move and swim with the garment off.
Something smooth slips past my thigh. These oceans are miles deep. It could be anything greeting me into the abyss. I await pain, but the only pain that comes is the burning sensation from the intense cold. People swim extreme lengths in the ocean all the time, and it’s the least I can do to keep warm. Meanwhile, a strange noise echoes just above the water’s surface. Tic… Tic… Tic…
The dress is finally off, and without the dank weight tugging me down I can breathe and swim freely. I follow the cruise ship’s wake, trying my best to be smooth and silent but the turbulent waves make it difficult. The cold seizes my muscles and I continue forward into the endless black. I imagine I am swimming through the thick custard of space, weaving among stars and planets as my blood boils from the cold of the vacuum of nothingness. I swim for a decent forty minutes until the sky starts to lighten.
At sunrise, I can see the endless stretch of water. Rippling waves for as far as the eye can see.
As I stop and tread water to catch my breath, something brushes past my bare legs again. There is enough light now that I can see a sleek silvery shape swimming alongside me. Not a shark, more…dolphin-shaped. I extend my hands to touch it curiously as it circles past again.
I can’t pause for much longer —the cold again bites into my flesh. I am exhausted, but there is no way of stopping in an ocean this vast. The stars are fading with daylight, leaving me no sense of direction, no astral waypoint. I begin my swim once more. Even If I die from exhaustion, I’ll at least be closer to home, closer to being found.
The creature swims beside me, lifting itself from the surface and barrel-rolling back down, splashing my face. Even in such a circumstance, at least I’m not alone.
I swim until I feel the dolphin under my body. I grasp it and hold on instinctively, allowing it to carry me as my muscles rest and throb with pain.
I should have let go when the creature took me under the waves. Swimming below the surface, it still seemed in reach. I dared to open my eyes, forcing them despite the sting of the salt so I could see what was going on. We were still swimming in the same direction. The blue sky was visible above me.
Dolphins breathe air, right? But how long can they go without it? A few minutes? Maybe it was ten minutes? Shit!
I let go and begin my desperate ascent to the surface. The dolphin follows me, its body smooth alongside mine. Just as my fingertips brush the surface waves, I am forced back under. The dolphin, using its weight, pushes me back down. Its laughter trills around me. Deep clicks and high-pitched whistles resound through my body as it shoves me under water. My human nature forces me to push up again, desperately searching for the surface as my oxygen runs out quickly, fuelling my new panic. The creature lets me reach the surface this time. I suck in a short breath and am bowled back under by its heavy body. I’m being played with —it finds me amusing. They say dolphins are like humans in many ways, and now I understand why. This is a dolphin equivalent of a kid with a magnifying glass, burning down an ant hill.
It nods as it stares at me through the water. Nodding and dipping its head as it cackles again. Mouth opening to reveal tiny pointy teeth. Something strokes my inner thighs as I stare into the beast’s eyes. As I gaze down, I notice an odd-shaped extremity snaking out of its belly. S-shaped, and slick, growing with each passing second.
Oh no…
I paw into the ocean again, muscles screaming as I struggle towards the surface in fear. The dolphin swims behind me. Its smooth stomach snakes along my back as that slippery penis pokes my bum. I regret having taken off my dress. I regret not wearing underwear to bed. I regret the nightmares that woke me from my slumber, forcing me onto the deck in the first place. I regret ever getting on that damn cruise.
I suck in a quick breath from the surface before it the beast pushes back down once again. I take the opportunity to spin and face it.
Poking your fingers in sharks’ eyes deters the sharks —would it work for dolphins?
I push forward and make a jab to the eyes, as something slips past my pubic mound. Its precision is scary, like it’s a little too familiar with human anatomy. I wriggle against it. Twisting and kicking.
I freeze as it breaks through. Piercing and waning. Slick muscle is spreading me open. It worms forward, body knocking against mine as that tip arches deeper. Too deep. That S-bend distorts my internal muscles, rearranging my guts. We are connected deeply. So deeply, it hurts as it spreads my cervix, leaking dolphin pre-cum directly into the source of my fertility.
The beast holds me under the surface as it arches back and forth. Fins and tail keep us steady as he breeds me. The salt of my tears mixes intimately with the ocean. I can’t pull away, can’t fight it. I have fallen victim to the carnal desire of a dolphin. I am beyond embarrassed.
The dull sound of an engine thuds through the water, vibrating and droning as it comes closer and closer. I turn my attention to the surface as my oxygen becomes desperately low —so low that the edges of my vision are fading. The creature allows me up for a quick breath. I take this opportunity, these precious a few seconds above the water, to look around.
A boat!
I flail my arms above my head and scream, just in time to be pushed back under by the sadistic mammal.
It is locked inside me. Flooding my womb with boiling hot seed.
The boat blocks the blue sky above us. The churning propeller connects with the dolphin’s back. Slicing its slippery skin like a soft potato. I struggle and pull away, its muscle pulling from me. I see the exact moment the vile beast is cut into pieces, like a tomato in a blender. Blood, guts, and chunks of skin explode into the blue of the ocean. I swim through it and take a fearful breath before screaming to the boat.
A yellow ring lands beside me. I’m hauled upon the ship. A womb full of dolphin cum, too embarrassed to ever tell anyone the truth. To other people, having a fear of dolphins is an idiotic fear. Dolphins are sweet, funny, and playful, right?
But they haven’t been raped by one.
I wanted to play with unusual fears and make it somehow fit into a genre of murderers, rapists and ghosts. One fear I came across was the fear of Dolphins, which of course fit my idea perfectly.
Holly Nicholls has been writing since she could hold a pencil. She lives in the U.K., England, with her husband-to-be, is a mother of one, and has way too many stories in her head that need to escape. She enjoys writing in a variety of genres, from children’s books (Curious King Fox), to stomach-churning horror, to poetry. And she will continue to be diverse in what she writes.