FUN FACT: this is a character taken from my current WIP, however the character’s actual name is Elmo. The reason I changed it to Delmar is because without the context of the og story, folks assume I’m talking about our sassy little muppet pal and not an old and weathered sea-man. Delmar does mean “of the sea” and works just as well without the context of The Siren (which I am not yet ready to share!). This story was another result of a writing prompt. Please enjoy!

ECHOS

Delmar wakes with a start, covered in a thick layer of cooling sweat. A chill reaches him, slipping around his heavy body under the scratchy fleece blanket that twisted around his legs as he slept. He brings an arm into the cold air of the room, swiping a hand across his sticky face. He keeps his eyes closed and tries to recall the dream that woke him - the dream that sent a shock of shivers down his spine. Delmar rests his arm across his eyes, letting the weight press down and block out any light as he drifts back into a fitful doze and the dream - the nightmare, comes back to life. 

Delmar floats into a setting he recognizes well, but, as dreams are wont to be, this was nothing he has ever seen before. His childhood home sits in front of him, the sweet two story where he watched his parents grow old. But, as dreams are wont to be, ,the house begins to defy all laws of gravity, swaying as if in an underwater ocean breeze. The bright blue sky darkened into a dusty gray, swirls of bubbles caught the light overhead. Delmar takes a startled breath as he realizes everything around him is underwater. But when he inhales, he notices he doesn’t struggle for breath. He looks up at the house in front of him and sees the paint that he mother took pride in keeping pristine, slowly peeling, disintegrating under the briney current. Delmar looks on, confused as the nails that kept the shutters on the side of his bedroom rust, allowing the slatted red panels to fall into the yard. Delmar takes another breath. He doesn’t know where his body exists in this dream-plane, but he feels his breathing deep in his chest - aware of his lungs beginning to pull in water. His breath a damp trickle into his lungs, like an unborn baby taking in his mothers amniotic fluid, easy, but certainly not air. An echo of a woman’s voice calls out from behind and he turned his head in search of the sound. Behind him sits the same scene, as if he hadn’t moved. This somehow makes sense and he continues to watch his house fall to ruins. The windows no longer have glass and the roof cracks and giant chunks fall slowly, gently cradled by the sea water, until settling, silent, on the ground below. 

Delmar’s breaths are becoming more laboured. He’s struggling to take in any fresh air. His lungs feel tight in his chest. “Deeeeeelllllmaaaaaarrrrrr” he spins around once more and sees nothing but his house, standing in shambles behind him, as it was in front, with the magic of the subconscious. The house is crumbling. Tendrils of seaweed shoot from the ocean floor and envelop the house like ivy, thick and slick and suffocating. 

A shrill voice from behind screams directly in his ear. “DELMAR!”
Delmar wakes gasping.