Deep Ocean blues

Subtle ocean waves moved restlessly, progressing across the world in ceaseless motion as a small creature stood on the edge of a cliff watching. Abstract, indistinct thoughts in its empty head. Its core characteristics were its short stature and long beard; secondary aspects were the drab grey jacket and blank pants that settled into the background of its appearance. This character’s name was Mike. Snippets drifted from his thoughts of work-related designations; the aftermath of sweat and aching limbs was a faraway, abstract concept. Whispers and comments wrapped in ill designs followed Mike’s every step, hushed remarks lacking subtlety echoed in the aftermath. These waves of animosity crashed back on the speakers, rolling away into oblivion as their poised arrows were ruined by lousy aim. Serenity calmed his mind; all positivity embraced the thrill of no accountability. Any burdens swept away to the corners and crevices of Mike’s mind. Positively tickled by the scene, inherently absorbed by a strict adherence to frivolity and with lofty ethics to draw from he mused from his perch. Quietly chuckling with a satisfied smile haplessly devoid of depth, when Mike glimpsed a peculiar event unfolding. A series of bubbles to their demise, bursting with a subdued anticlimax. These precursors of anticipation trailed up from the depths. Finally, the culprit came to light from the murkiness as a head broke the surface. A strange presentation emerged, challenging the linear structure of rational thinking. A concentrated mess of thick tethers grew from the top of its head, clinging to a frame of scaley blue skin. Its skin was marred with tints of green. Highlighting the pair of green eyes whose fierce stare latched onto his frame, scrutinizing him critically. The gills on its face worked overtime, greedily gulping the air. A smile gave the final touches to this presentation, belying suspicions with pleasantries and a presentable farce.
“Can you help us?” a soft cooing tore at Mike’s emotions, wisps of helpless warbling pleading with pleading and wide-eyed panic. Expertly pulling the precise strings. Without a thought in his hollow head, it bobbed helplessly, pulled into the fray. Succumbing to the general illusion with a splash, sinking with a noble heart overcome by selfless purposes. Full of purposeful intentions and righteous convictions as the depths embraced Mike’s frame, the shifting daylight weaving and bobbing further away. The virtuous nature of this momentary crusade lasted only a second more, fading with the first signs of struggle presented themselves. The weight on Mike’s lungs dispersed the clouds in his mind, drifting away to reveal the warning bells screeching into oblivion. A piercing episode that echoed his terrified heart.
Mike’s instincts kicked in fiercely as he clawed the water in desperation, a sporadic dance right as claws dug into his shoulder. Dragging him down as he choked and sputtered. Fast-tracked to the bottom. Mike’s plight transitioned into dim prospects that swiftly swirled and spiraled. His pulse spiked as the edges of his vision curled into blackness, creeping across his sight with effortless cruelty. A coldness swept across Mike’s body; a numb sensation consumed more of his waning existence. The last few seconds of Mike’s life were consumed as the creeping stillness settled his movements, his impending end arriving. Mike’s deteriorating frame was on the verge of expiring. As all hope seemed lost, his eyes closed with resignation when a mask fitted over his face. A monstrous-looking aid, fitting all but Mike’s eyes as two tubes hung from the front. One hung loosely while the other remained attached to a backpack, filled with nothing but that ignition that sparks life. Straight away, the water was sucked from Mike’s lungs, a vacuum filtering out the trash. Flushed out the useless tube with nothing to do, dangling as the water exited its spout.  The glorious oxygen came next and rushed through Mike’s lungs with expedited force. His body flush with life; the shock of life animated his frame as the full force hit his frame. Mike’s body doubled over, hacking his way back to life in response as he was held in the grip of the moment’s struggle.
Subsiding with a refreshing tint, a bright view of newfangled perspectives. Looking ahead, Mike found a drab sight. Withered creatures basked in the aura of sadness, punitive forms fading from the world. A graveyard of gloom, despair, and a barrage of misery adrift in a sea of dejection stretched before his eyes. Spindly bodies sprouted from the earth in withered frames, their roots delving into the ground for the utmost stability. Growing into the seabeds vegetation that spotted the area, their lifelessness forms a stark reminder of their fate. Desperate eyes glossed over everything. Among all this, two creatures stood in stark contrast and in drastic opposition to their companions. Their shared sadness was a fluid exchange, cowering together in a visual example of unity. The moment their eyes spied Mike’s frame, faint traces of traitorous hope alighted their eyes. The revelation of new pathways and possibilities presented an alternative course. 
“Can you help us?” a hopeful tone claimed the mermaid’s voice, fluctuating from the vein of insecurity. The other caught onto the situation with a fearful stare, remaining silent. “We need your help,” the notes of pleading patheticness and soft touches added wretched at any sentimentality he possessed. Tearing at the seams, a floodgate of bottled sensations threatening to creak, fissures erupting across the thin glass of emotions. “A frightening creature is after us,” a chill ran through the mermaid as a far-off look of terror crossed each face, the moment stretching forward. These perfect touches nudge the listener toward sympathy, the destination of every manipulator. “We’re helpless against it,” its voice cracking under this realization; these unfortunate pieces of the story were scars upon the pages of the story. As these anemic explanations festered in Mike’s brain, his imagination filled in the holes, and oddities sprouted into life. While these thoughts drifted from reality, a comforting sense of nonsense captured his attention when reality interrupted with its own version. The perfect example of thoughts canoodling with reality, their midnight meetings producing a flask. Pulling it from nowhere, particularly with a bashful tendency attached to the exchange, an unfortunate silence of unbearable character became too much. Mike’s voice burst forth with barely contained cynicism. 
“What is this for?” annoyance bleated from his mouth, heightening his words with rudeness as he toyed with the ridiculousness of the situation. Ultimately failing to translate, lost as the others remained absorbed in their initial complaint.
“It’s the only thing that can defeat the beast,” an innocence immersing the word, fully invested in this truth as the degradation sank their dispositions lower. The sour note to their expression channeled their feelings about this unwanted situation. “None of us can use it,” the sheepish words whispered with a dash of self-pity.