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I’d heard stories about what confinement in the cramped quarters of a submarine can do to a man. Sure, those in charge of training screen for that type of instability, but the occasional nutter does make it on to the crew sometimes. That was never me though. I spent a year and a half preparing myself for life on a submarine, and I had no fears about what was in store for me.

The common conditions that caused fear in lesser men, I had expected. However, it’s the unexpected where true fear lies. I hadn’t expected the primary power to go out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and that had me tense. I was even less prepared for when the engines stopped working, and that pushed me to being scared. As madness set in for the crew around me, I tried to stay brave and get things civil again, but every man has his breaking point. The sound of steel groaning under the building pressure of the ocean water was mine.

Cracks and pops joined the groans as the vessel sank deeper into the abyss. The already tight corridors warped and became tighter as every surface around me began to slowly compress. Knowing my fate, I looked for something to end it quickly, but unfortunately I was still struggling for shallow breaths when the walls pinned me in place.

And then the sub stopped sinking. Stopped shrinking. Ocean floor. Now, unable to move a single muscle in my body, I pray for something unexpected to happen. Because I know my fate.

And in this pitch black vice, I’ve never been so terrified.



Written by Provider92
Content is available under CC BY-SA

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