Fiction by Sarah Hunter
“45 Seconds”
By Sarah Hunter
It was so bright. There was nowhere to hide. Strange silhouettes moved outside. We were crowded in a tank, too scared to move. So much had happened in so little time… Where were we?
It had all started when I got trapped in the net. Lured by the smell of food, I had wandered inside, only to find that the way out was not as easy as the way in. I had just recently travelled to warmer, shallower waters and I was feeling hungry. If only I had known that the place was rife with traps.
Time passed and my fears grew. I felt exposed—there was nowhere to hide within the trap, and I could not find a way to escape. Fish swam beyond the net, occasionally pausing and curiously sensing the barrier. At the start they reacted with fright upon noticing me inside. But then they would slowly swim back over and look at me with more confidence. They knew I was no threat now.
The tide began to withdraw, and gradually, the trap became visible above water. I shuffled about, still not knowing how to get out. I would be even more vulnerable without the water covering me. But suddenly, the trap jolted. It was pulled across the ground, and I toppled onto my back. Once the movement had stopped and I had steadied myself, I finally sensed the trap-setters. They were soft-bodied beings, like fish, except instead of scales of they had flesh. I presume that was why they wore strange materials on their bodies; they were defenceless-looking creatures, apart from their size. I became acutely aware of my own unprotected state and attempted to back away, despite the confined space. But as quickly as the soft-bodied beings had pulled in the trap, they grabbed me and bound my armoured hands. I was then hurled into a container of water, where a few others of my kind were already being kept. Their hands were similarly bound, and I recognised one of them from when we had been free. Now we shared the same captivity and fear. You could feel it in the water, and in the way we remained so still. More were thrown into the container as time went on, and I wondered if the soft-bodied beings would ever stop, or whether they would continue to fill the space until we were crawling on top of each other.
Eventually, the soft-bodied beings must have had enough, as a while passed where nothing happened. Just as we were beginning to relax, however, the container was lifted. We collided with one another as the water rocked and splashed. Once it settled again, we quickly shuffled into a corner, our anxieties growing with the trepidation of future disturbances. These disruptive movements continued several times more, before we were abruptly thrown into a tank. We could sense the soft-bodied beings still moving about outside. Where had they brought us, and why? Their world was so abstract to me. I longed to go back to my home and hide in the crevices of rocks shaped by the sea and feel the push and pull of the currents. It would take me a while to recover, but the familiar landscapes would aid me, I was sure.
Beyond the tank, figures continued to come and go, until one of the soft-bodied beings paused, seeming to study us. We crouched lower to the floor and kept close to one another. Huddled in a corner, we hoped we would be left alone. Yet despite our efforts, the outsider was unhindered. One large hand reached down and grabbed my torso, and I flailed about as I was pulled back through the water. As I breached the surface, I noticed many more soft-bodied beings gathered in groups. The particles in the air overwhelmed me. I was carried away into another space that was incredibly bright, although not from the sun. There was steam, smoke, and more overpoweringly strong aromas. It was all so alien.
My fate was finally revealed to me as I was hovered over a container of boiling water.
No. Surely not.
The steam began to engulf me, and I moved frantically in the being’s hand. There was only so much I could do with my main defences still bound. All too quickly, I was dropped into the scorching water. My body seared with pain. I tried to hoist myself out, but something was placed over me, blocking out the light. Instincts I had only a few times noticed in myself became apparent once again, and every limb reached, grasped, and pushed for escape.
10 seconds had passed. I continued to thrash and writhe. I repeatedly tried to hoist myself out of the boiling water, but the slippery sides offered me nowhere to grip onto. My limbs collided against the searing sides of the container and my bound hands reached for the steaming surface. The base burnt worst, but as much as I tried to avoid it, I would sink back down.
20 seconds passed. Immense pain coursed through every part of my body. Through the haze of distress, I reached out once more for the surface.
30 seconds passed. Reaching, thrashing, pushing. I could not give up.
40 seconds. The smell of my boiling body began to fill the space.
45 seconds.
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Sarah Hunter is an emerging writer from Australia. She has a Bachelor of Arts
with a double major in Writing, and Screen and Media Studies. Sarah also has a
Graduate Certificate in Arts majoring in Peace Studies, and a Master of
Counselling. She primarily uses her writing to explore nonhuman perspectives
and the challenges they face. Sarah is currently working on a collection of
illustrated children’s books, and a novel for young adults.