Sunken Ship/Hell’s Gate

Author: Gay Retard

*for those who enjoyed the first chapter of my benzo-brain-injuiry story, consider this a sister series focussing on the re-telling of my vivid, quetiapine induced nightmares which have frequently occured over the past 3-4 years.*

the Seroquel nightmares vol.1

DEEP-WATER SCUBA DIVE TO HELL’S GATE

The water was frigid as the sun began to set behind distant evergreen trees, which dotted the outermost quarters of my peripheral vision. I, along with a small group of strangers floated on the surface as the sky clung to its last, grey-pink vestige of sunlight. our group, clad in scuba gear seemed familiar enough with each other to mark me as the one outsider. I had recognized our location to be Lake Superior (a place I’ve never been) although through dream logic, I didn’t question why this ocean had a coastline of pine trees .

I had no idea what the purpose of this dive was, as a small boat shrank out of focus and the atmosphere of our excursion remained mysterious. we readied our equipment for the dive, and I received the answer to my unspoken question when a man in our party said to me “we’re going to see the titanic” and we began our descent.

I became excited, this statement aroused a sense of romance and journey. though this quickly faded when I realized our group leader (?) had been making a sick joke out of my enthusiasm for the dive. sinking through the infinite, cold blackness I had realized we were NOT going to see the titanic.

through pitch darkness, going deeper and deeper for what seemed like forever, I understood that we were drawing closer to our destination. the grim silence of my unseen dive partners had let me know that this dive was not a happy circumstance. we were visiting a mass underwater grave in the form of a sunken WWII battleship, and diving this location at night seemed to be an inverted ritual of some sort. one I had unwittingly taken part of.

my vision, though still pitch back had indicated that this wreck was ugly, and the visage of death was ever present as we drew closer. still in complete darkness, we entered the wreck one after the other, I was last.

through dream logic, suddenly water was gone and I was stumbling around in the darkness. still unable to see, I could tell we were in an enclosed space, and that we had air. I removed my scuba goggles and respirator, and breathed in. “are you guys ready? ” our guide had asked, revealing a small, disposable camera in his hands (dream logic, my vision was still black but I could tell what he was holding)

before receiving an answer, our guide snapped a photo. without warning and with a sudden flash, the space around us was illuminated for a split second. the photograph still burns in may conscious memory as I write this story.

we were at the end of a long, rusted corridor, which felt more like a tunnel. at the far end, a pitch-black doorway beckoned us closer. again now in complete darkness, I understood that there was no barrier between us and whatever lay beyond Hell’s gate.

THE END

hope you enjoyed my story! it was not very fun to wake up from this dream, and the image still haunts me to this day.