The Kraken

by Isabell Pinkney

Tilda Sjøelsker lived out her days in a fishing village in the north of Norway. She was brought up on a diet of myths and legends, tales told by the fishermen she revered for their apparent bravery in facing the beings of their stories. They spoke to her and the other children of sirens that hypnotised sailors with their song, all so they could lure them close, sink their boats and devour them; of ghost ships that loomed ominously on the horizon but vanished without a trace every time you tried to get close to them; of ocean graveyards that house the poor souls who went to sea and never returned, filled with not just their bones but their spirits. But Tilda’s favourite story was that of the Kraken, a tale first told in the village when three ships never returned to the harbour, and a few that did were missing members of their crew.

Those who claimed they had seen the Kraken all said some of the same things about it, but also argued over other aspects of the creature. They all alleged it had a head and tentacles resembling those of a squid. However, it was apparently far more dangerous than any other squid due to it being hundreds of thousands of times bigger, of a vastness unlike anything before seen. It could wrap its tentacles around any ship, no matter how big, and drag it down to a watery grave, where the vessel would be lost, and the doomed mariners devoured by the seafaring horror. Some declared its hunger was boundless, and that it would always actively hunt for oblivious sailors to try and satisfy its voracious appetite, whilst others argued that it instead could lie dormant for hundreds of years, sleeping beneath the waves until it eventually grew hungry enough to strike again. To brave Tilda, this being was a danger, and the details didn’t matter.

Tilda declared that she would set out to sea abord her family’s beloved fishing trawler, the Pioneer, and kill the beast that plagued the Norwegian Sea. Some laughed and called her insane, some cheered her on, and the rest feared for her safety as she began her voyage. Armed with five spears, a loaded crossbow and a kitchen knife, plus the typical fishing gear of a net and rod, Tilda set out into a swirling storm, undeterred by the weather and the ominous warnings the fishermen gave her before she left.

Remarkably, it did not take long for the Kraken to appear. Tilda had no time to wonder why, but later decided it was most likely because of the stormy weather: such a violent maelstrom was sure to get sailors lost, and during that time of confusion, the sea monster could strike. And when it did, Tilda launched into action. She stabbed at the tentacles that came to drag the Pioneer down into a murky abyss. At one point, she lunged forwards and cut off a tentacle, which earned her a sea-shaking scream from the beast. As the severed tentacle crashed down onto the deck, the Kraken began to rise from directly beneath the Pioneer. As it rose and rose, the boat stopped resting on the waves but on the head of the Kraken. Brave Tilda still felt no fear. She grabbed her crossbow and, as the Kraken tilted its head to tip her off the boat, fired. The arrow embedded itself in the beast’s eye. It screamed again, and the boat fell off its head. Tilda seized the opportunity, and most versions of this tale claim she thrust a spear into its mouth and watched as it choked to death.

With the huge tentacle proof of her triumph over the Kraken, Tilda was admired and celebrated as a hero. But the Kraken still managed to haunt her. Most say that it began with the dreams, in which the beast-slayer would toss and turn feverishly, speaking rapidly in a tongue nobody in the village could recognise, let alone translate. She would wake up screaming that the eye was watching her, and her parents struggled desperately to somehow keep her calm.

Next, she developed a huge appetite. No matter how much food was placed on the table, Tilda could not be satisfied and would often try and steal extra food from others, even raw, freshly caught fish that nobody else would touch until it had been cooked. After that, she was plagued with a fever and broke out in rashes that covered her skin in a layer of sore redness and made wearing clothes, no matter how soft or thin, unbearably painful. She would scream that she “needed the sea” and, out of pure fear, her parents locked her in her room.

What happened after that is much debated, and I implore you to do some debating of your own. What is a story without a little bit of personal interpretation, after all? All that is known for certain is that Tilda disappeared from her room, with a smashed window and rumpled bedsheets the only signs she had been in there at all. She was never seen again after that, and many believed that she drowned herself. After all, she kept saying she needed the sea.

I like to think that there is something a little bit more ghostly involved: that Tilda was haunted by the vengeful ghost of the sea monster she killed. They had a connection between their minds in which the beast could invade Tilda’s dreams and infect her with its need for seawater. Driven mad by this need, Tilda waded out to sea in the dead of night. Leave me alone, she would think, addressing the Kraken that plagued her. You’re dead, you’re nothing. Only she was dragged down into the depths, where she died. Where a ghost came for her. No. Stay with me. It demanded as it devoured her, for nobody escapes the Kraken, be it dead or alive.

Stay with me forever and ever.