Dreams of the DeepPaul's whole world was spinning. The Proxitol made it incredibly difficult for him to think clearly. Maya? Yes, her name was Maya. She had told him it would only be a few days, that the thing inside would dissolve. She'd been wrong, and she'd been surprised that she'd been wrong, not that it mattered. Resting his head against the cool porcelain of the toilet in the cell he called a room, PaulDreams of the Deep2 years ago in Writing
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could almost laugh about how this all seemed like some ridiculous dream. But the pain, the disorientation, and the feeling of...something inside...assured him it was anything but.
The growth had started spreading again, but it was different this time. The iridescent scales had formed
patches around his hips, wrapped around his waist, and then branched out into two separate lines that
ran up and gathered around his shoulder blades, sprouting opaque sacs.
That night he dreamed of an ocean, somewhere far, far away. Something large and shapeless, sparkling like a star-covered