Again, for the umpteenth time this week, Cole heard the same story from the community he works for. Allegedly, there is something in the storm drains. That’s it, that’s all the people said. No evidence, no proof, just a complaint. It could be blocked again after that storm that lasted a good minute or two yesterday, but all drains in the neighborhood were fine, looked fine, nothing wrong. April 1st was 15 days ago, this has to be a long running prank. 

Yesterday was Cole’s breaking point. Two kids lugged him over to a large storm drain and said “something came out of it!” 

“The drain…?”

“Yes! We’re not joking, this isn’t some Stephen King crap either! We saw it, actually, we saw him!”

“Elaborate.”

“Ok, o-ok so,” the first one stammered. “The drain was functioning normally, right? Water flowed down the drain, everything ok. And then… like, ‘Sploosh!’ this HUGE hand came out and tried to grab onto the road and-”

“It was clawing THE ROAD, JAMES!” the second interjected. “Please, Mr. Cole, you have to believe all of us. Look! You can see the trail it left behind!”

Sure enough, there were three big claw marks engraved into the asphalt. With this irrefutable evidence, Cole pretended to be convinced that what he was seeing was real, but he still wasn’t having it. The kids begged him to investigate, since he is the only one who had access to the drain for maintenance. His eyes narrowed, and felt determined to prove them wrong. 

“Fine,” he said sarcastically. “I’ll get him for you…”

“I don’t think you will,” James said. “That hand was HUGE and I mean it! Those claw marks are about uh… 4 inches wide.”

“Yes, I have eyes.”

“Please be careful, dude…”

The kids clung to each other in fear as they heard an unnatural gurgle come from the depths of the drain. Cole, on the contrary, was unphased but committed. 

A day later, he made it down alone, despite the protests of the community and his colleague King, who watched him enter the drain with nothing but a flashlight and his own hubris. 

“Cole, come on…” he exclaimed. “Let me go down there with you! I saw the hand too, man!”

“Oh I’m sure you did,” Cole said condescendingly. “Oh, what was it, pray tell? A large, blue hand with nails as sharp as a cat’s claws?? Perhaps webbed?? Give me a break, and listen to Ocean Man.”

He dropped in and crawled through the maze of reinforced concrete and rushing water. 

“Oh and by the way,” he added. “If this is one big hoax, oh, ho ho… I won’t be a happy camper!”

The water from the latest storm flowed like a river beneath his boots. There was nothing in the dark tunnels apart from the water and the occasional gurgling it made, which progressively got louder as he reached a larger tunnel that led to a river a couple miles outward. The gurgles ceased as he entered that part, and an unusual gust of wind greeted him. Cole was still unconvinced that whatever is in here is real. There was nothing interesting his flashlight was illuminating. The boring gray concrete walls, probably eroding from the amount of water flow, was the only thing certain about this disgusting place underground. Better than a sewer. 

The more time wasted, the more he got impatient and doubtful. He hummed to himself as he scanned the walls. They were in desperate need of repair after 28 years of constant stress from the land above and the rare times where the water would rise high during a hurricane. Cracked, chipping, claw marks. Cole noticed the marks on the concrete. Same size, same three, same length. 

“Hm. These kids actually went that far to prank me…” he said out loud. 

The stream below him shifted slightly in response to the words. It surprised him, but didn’t make him think too much about it. Miles walked, no drain thing in sight. Further he went down the drain’s main tunnel, finding debris and some trash clinging to the sides of the bank. A large but simple hat drifted in the water’s gentle stream. Cole retrieved it and marveled at its size. It was too big for anybody to wear, only good it can be used for is a miniature boat that would capsize if you attempted to sit on it. Like a Victoria Waterlily.

He threw the hat back and continued his pointless hike across the endless tunnel. The scratch marks on the walls were becoming frequent, these people tried too hard to make this seem believable. When Cole got to the end of his rope, he turned around and laughed uncontrollably. A half an hour wasted on trying to find something that doesn’t exist… What a joke! His laughs echoed throughout the system, disturbing the water below.

“Hello?” a voice called from the darkness behind him. “Is there anyone there? Can you help me?”

Cole froze, sighed and turned again. 

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said, waving his flashlight. “Are you lost, sir?”

“Yes I am,” the elderly voice said. “I came down here the same way you did. Reports of some kind of ‘water spirit’ down here. Didn’t find jack!”

“Where’s your flashlight?”

“Batteries died.”

“Ah. Can you see me from over there? I can’t see you.”

“Oh yes, I’m coming. My legs hurt from walking for so long.”

The water in the drain tunnel shifted with every movement the man made, a bit too much. Cole’s eyes squinted. He can see something but couldn’t make out what it is with certainty. 

“Can confirm that!” King’s voice said. “I found him too. We both came down at the same time. Unfortunately, we only bought one flashlight because we weren’t gonna split up.”

Cole raised an eyebrow. He can hear them but can’t see them. They seemed very far away, too.

“Follow the light, guys!” he said, waving the flashlight again.

“See?” King said to the other man. “He’s over there, go that way!”

“Trying…” the man replied.

“Yes, I did listen to Ocean Man before we went down, Cole. Not a good idea-”

“We saw something, too.”

“Oh yes we did!”

“Trust me, it’s not good to look at…!”

The two men’s voices slowly overlapped each other to the point where their conversation became unintelligible. Cole felt compelled to tell them to shut up, but the hat he threw back into the stream caught his attention again. It was floating past him and the water under it started to bubble. Little by little, long follicles of white hair solidified from the water into existence. They congregated under the large hat  and the water around it started to rise. The “conversation” was still droning in the background as the creature formulated itself, rising from the surface and reaching the ceiling of the tunnel. It resembled a large merman of some sort that looked like it had been around for eternity, but his portly face lies and says he’s in his late 60s. His skin was sky blue and partially tarnished by algae and other stuff you wouldn’t find in a drain tunnel, like seaweed and barnacles. The only thing human about this near 9 foot tall spirit was his head and face. His hair was ghostly, a pale lavender that fell down to his tail. Some of it fell over his down-turned, baggy and shut eyes. Crowning the mess of hair was that hat. 

Cole was flabbergasted, for lack of better words. The creature faced him, tipped his hat and pulled an invisible pull switch. It seemed very friendly, but its claws grew longer at the sight of him. The conversation between the lost man and King stopped completely, and the two were nowhere to be found. Without thinking about where they could be, Cole ran for his life.

In an instant, the creature showed its true colors and swam after him, merging itself into the shallow water pushing against the current with ease, cutting the stream of storm water and leaving a wide gap in its wake like Moses parting the Red Sea. Cole made it back into the subdivided tunnels, smaller than the main, and lumbered through it, desperately trying to get back to where he came in. This 6 foot wide tunnel should’ve held the creature back, but the laws of physics were dead to it. It dove face first into the small tunnel two thirds of its size and girth and pushed itself through, inching, thrusting itself forward through the tight spaces to get to its prey,  while it passively coaxed Cole in the voice it used for the lost man. It still maintained that friendly face as its gaze locked onto Cole’s feeble body skittering frantically through the tunnels. As it got closer to him, its mouth got larger and spacious. It was really trying hard to catch him, it didn’t care about the other holes in the system, it pushed past them like it had no friction at all. It was moving too fast for its size. 

As the chase went on, the spirit contorted its body to fit through the final tunnel that leads to the surface. Cole managed to outrun it and sealed the drain’s entrance shut. He laughed maniacally as he heard the spirit’s claws scratching the lid. 

“TAKE THAT! I GOT YOU!” he exclaimed. “Don’t feel so agile now?! HUH??”

Cole, exhausted, sat down and let the feeling of victory simmer inside him. A puddle underneath him reflected the closed exit above and his tired but triumphant face. 

He saw his reflection, along with another portly face in the bubbling puddle.