A/N: Dying must be a fear of everyone's, right? Squalo can't be any different. I'm sure this was subtly influenced by the after math of his and Yamamoto's ring battle. Goodness, I've taken so long to update this fic. I believe Lussuria is next~
The sky seemed to be immense with stark shades of gray as it bowled around the surrounding area, the slate blue of the sea not doing anything to elevate the ominous feeling it gave. Water, unusually still, struck up a bad melody with the equally still sky, causing their solo observer to narrow his hues bitterly. His eyes took on the color of the gray sky and darted around in heated confusion. Superbi Squalo wanted to scowl at the unfamiliarity, but found it impossible with an elaborately tied gag over his mouth.
He could feel the neatly knotted rope ensnare his hands as well as his legs, a strong lock of braided twine connecting them in the back. Squalo let out a vicious growl deep in his throat, the only thing he could do. Feeling so helpless in a position like so, he thrashed around like a wild animal, silver hair limply tossed about. It was tiring, though, as if he had no energy to even show his anger! Since when had he never been able to express such feelings? Even under the strictest of consequences, a strangled cry of vengeance would be made known by Squalo and his uninviting sneer. But not here, no, only muffled sounds of anger could be made out in the silence; quite possibly the only other thing around besides the water and sky.
The dock groaned in discomfort, creaking under Squalo's restless movements. His brows furrowed together in a half anguished, half laughing close of his eyes. He was on a most likely rotting dock in the middle of a still body of water with no land mass nearby to estimate his whereabouts. There was no recollection of him happily obliging to be here and the man was sure he would have remembered if he had something to do in a place like so.
"Oh, so you've awaken?" a voice graveled by time brusquely teased. Instantly, Squalo jolted up in an attempt to attack, already assuming that the body that went to the voice was the one that done this. "Ah, it is almost pathetic to see you like so." Having not found the voice's owner, Squalo put his tired eyes to use and skimmed the area he could see. It was just a simple little dock, perhaps not even large enough to hold five people. The small platform was strong, supported by six beams of ocean-caressed wood and as sturdy as Squalo's mind was sharp. It donned on him quickly that no one else was near him and that the voice he heard was merely his mind losing it.
How long had it been since he had awakened on this ocean bound platform? The sky was never changing and life was absent within the water. The temperature was annoyingly constant with its humidity, making his clothes stick uncomfortably to his skin.
"There's only one way out, Squalo, and you know what it is." the same voice drawled sadistically. No, he absolutely refused to acknowledge it. Either die by the unrelenting hands of time or just end his own life, and there was only one way out; both choices lead to the same fate. His eyes blew up with anger, pupils tiny dots that made him look insane. "Heh, you look angry." the voice commented in a sardonic sense. In reply, Squalo started up his rage and caused the voice to laugh and the dock to wobble. "Oh, Squalo, Squalo, Squalo. Squalo." All he wanted to do right now was shut that voice up, but between his small breaks from thrashing about, he only had the strength to continue to glare into the eternal sky. "You want to know why you are here?" Squalo's eye twitched violently; that was a yes.
He gritted his teeth to near breakage at the explanation. "Because you're full of pride, and that is a sin." Some godly force reigned down on Squalo, sending a kick into his side. He was thrown close to the edge of the dock, teetering slightly with a blood lusty look in his eyes. Even if he could talk, words could not describe how he felt his pride be stripped away, tied by these ropes and made useless with no one around. The sky and sea could be as unsympathetic as he was. "A sin, a sin, a sin." With each daunting remark, a kick was deliver to opposing sides of his body; a kick to the left side of his head, a kick to his right leg, a kick to his left arm. But, what was kicking him?
Squalo writhed around a bit more, his chest visibly heaving with anger; he wasn't going to give up the fight just yet. He wasn't going to take the foreboding voice's abuse.
He wasn't going to die there.
He rolled over to the edge of the platform, eyes straining to look down into the water. He was prideful, yes. So very much, in fact, that he wouldn't allow this voice to take his own life. "Can you really swim?" the voice cooed sarcastically. Squalo stared off into dead space for a moment, his eyes glazed over in countenance.
The sky reflected the feelings that currently emulated from his being. He felt dull, monotonous, but he was emotionally sprawled everywhere at the moment. He wondered if it had to end like this.
"We all know what you're going to do," Squalo refocused his eyes to see a flock of swallows fly over head, mournfully dipping low to the water and then back up in aerial grace. "Might as well do it now." Another kick. It was the last thing he felt before a rush of air bubbles ran over his eyes. The water was colder than he had anticipated, but that didn't really matter; he would die soon anyway.
But damn.
Damn, damn, damn, damn.
DAMN.
Squalo let himself sink in the water, which was surprisingly clear for its murky gray appearance. It would have been futile to move, but he romped about any way. If he could get the breath out of his body fast enough, then perhaps he could die knowing that it was his own self that took his life and not this disembodied voice of self-righteousness. But it was an odd thing; air kept replenishing itself within his lungs and he miraculously never inhaled any water. What kind of miracle is that, though? Squalo's eyes shot open with a look of true blind sightedness and he began to move about even more. He wasn't dying! The Varia swordsman wasn't happy about this, though, not at all. Not in the least. A resounded laughter echoed in his ears.
"What will kill you first? Time, lunacy, or your own pride?"
From the corner of his eye, Squalo could see a voluminous shark slice through the water towards him.
"I'm willing to bet it's you."
---
Squalo involuntarily twitched on his bed, panting heavily with shut eyes. The second hand on the clock could be heard counting the moments it took for the man's breathing to even out. He slowly opened his eyes, dreading to find out where he was. He was in his room, his blanket moved by his wild sleeping movements, and it was currently four in the morning. His mouth closed silently as he shifted his position in bed to accommodate for the tossed blanket. Using the loose sheets, he wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and made himself comfortable to get another two hours of sleep in.
"Just some fucked up dream..." Squalo murmured. His brows slightly furrowed together.
Because he was too prideful to say it was a nightmare.
