LEVIATHAN THE SEA MONSTER

DENNIS' NIGHTMARE

"Wow, is that it?" I groaned, rolling the ancient scroll back up. "The scroll doesn't even say if the tentacled beast was Leviathan or something else."

I sighed and rubbed my forehead.

"How is this supposed to help with our class project now?"

Then an idea struck me.

"I know! I'll call Queen and fill her in on all the details of the scroll. She'll know what to do."

I pulled out my phone and started searching for her contact.

I wonder how Dennis is doing. Poor kid.

DENNIS

Dennis's POV

I don't know where I am.

One second I was asleep, and the next I'm standing on a beach I've never seen before. The sand is dark and wet beneath my feet, and the sea stretches on forever. The waves crash against each other violently like they're angry about something.

I look around, trying to figure out where I am, but nothing looks familiar.

"What is this place?" I whisper.

The wind howls louder, almost like it's answering me.

Suddenly, the water starts moving strangely. The sea begins to swirl and twist, forming a giant whirlpool right in front of me.

My heart drops.

Something is coming.

Something huge.

I take a step back as a massive creature rises from the depths. Its dark scales glisten under flashes of lightning. Its glowing eyes lock onto mine, and I feel frozen in place.

Leviathan.

I don't know how I know it's Leviathan, but I do.

The monster lets out a roar so loud it shakes the ground beneath me. My ears ring, and every part of me is screaming to run.

Then I see something else.

A bright light appears in the distance.

I turn toward it and my eyes widen.

Lora.

She's standing near the edge of the shore, glowing from head to toe. Golden light surrounds her body, making her shine brighter than anything I've ever seen. The light dances around her like she's made of pure energy.

"Lora?" I call out.

But she doesn't answer.

She just stands there staring at the sea.

I start running toward her.

"Dennis!"

A voice suddenly echoes around me.

I stop.

"Dennis, go back!"

"Who's there?"

"Loki?"

The voice sounds panicked.

"Go back! It's dangerous! You need to leave now!"

I spin around looking to see if I can find out where the voice is coming"

"where are you? Come out now"

"GO BACK!"

The warning echoes through the air.

But before I can move, Leviathan turns its head toward Lora.

The sea erupts.

The sky flashes with lightning.

The ground beneath my feet begins to c***k.

"LORA!"

Everything around me starts collapsing, and I feel myself falling into darkness.

And then—

I wake up, gasping for air, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it's about to burst out of my chest.

My chest is rising and falling so fast it hurts.

For a few seconds, I just sit there in bed, staring into the darkness of my room.

"What was that?" I whisper to myself.

The dream felt too real.

Leviathan.

Lora glowing.

Loki warning me.

I rub my face and glance at the clock beside my bed.

2:37 AM.

Great.

Now I'm awake.

My throat feels dry, so I throw the blanket off and climb out of bed. The wooden floor creaks beneath my feet as I quietly make my way downstairs.

The house is silent.

Too silent.

Ever since Mom died, silence has become a permanent guest in our home.

I walk into the kitchen and grab a glass from the cupboard. Just as I'm filling it with water, I notice a light coming from the dining room.

That's strange.

Dad should be asleep.

Curious, I walk toward the room.

My heart sinks when I see him.

Dad is sitting alone at the dining table.

The same dining table Mom used to force us all to sit around every evening.

The same table where she'd laugh at my terrible jokes.

The same table where she used to tell Dad he worked too much.

Now it's just him.

Sitting there.

Alone.

A single lamp lights the room.

At his feet lies Bingo.

Our golden retriever.

Even the dog hasn't been the same since Mom died.

Bingo's head is resting on Dad's foot, his eyes sad and tired.

Sometimes I swear he still waits for Mom to walk through the front door.

Dad notices me standing there.

"Dennis?" he asks. "What are you doing awake?"

I shrug.

"Bad dream."

He nods slowly.

"Yeah. Those are becoming a habit lately."

I walk over and sit across from him.

For a moment neither of us says anything.

The silence feels heavy.

"Are you okay?" I finally ask.

Dad lets out a small laugh.

Not the happy kind.

The sad kind.

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

I look down at the table.

Truthfully?

Neither of us is okay.

We haven't been okay for months.

Dad reaches into a drawer nearby.

"I found something today."

"What?"

He pulls out an old photo album.

My stomach twists.

Mom's album.

The one we haven't touched since the funeral.

Dad places it between us.

"I thought maybe we could look through it together."

For a second, I almost say no.

It still hurts too much.

But then I nod.

"Okay."

Dad opens the album.

The first photo makes both of us smile.

Mom had somehow convinced Bingo to wear a tiny birthday hat.

The dog had looked completely miserable.

Dad chuckles.

"Remember this?"

I laugh.

"He tried to eat the hat five seconds later."

Bingo lifts his head at the sound of his name.

His tail gives a weak wag.

Dad turns another page.

Then another.

Pictures of family vacations.

Birthday parties.

Christmas mornings.

Normal moments.

The kind of moments you never realize you'll miss until they're gone.

Dad stops on a picture of Mom holding my hand at the beach when I was six.

I stare at it.

I barely remember that day.

But I remember her smile.

Dad reaches out and gently traces the edge of the photo.

"I miss her."

His voice cracks.

It's the first time I've heard him admit it out loud.

"I miss her too," I say quietly.

Neither of us looks away from the picture.

Then something slips from between the pages.

A folded piece of paper.

Dad frowns.

"What's this?"

I pick it up.

The paper is old.

Yellow around the edges.

My stomach suddenly feels strange.

Dad unfolds it.

The moment I see the handwriting, my breath catches.

Mom.

It's Mom's handwriting.

Dad freezes.

For a second neither of us speaks.

Then he begins reading.

"To my boys... and to Bingo."

Dad's voice starts shaking.

I lean closer.

The letter reads:

If you're reading this, then I'm probably gone.

I know that sounds dramatic, but you know me. I've always been dramatic.

Dad lets out a small laugh through his tears.

I can almost hear Mom saying it.

James, I know you'll pretend you're fine. Please don't. You were never good at pretending.

Dad wipes his eyes.

"She's right," I mumble.

He laughs.

"Unfortunately."

Dad continues.

Dennis, if you're reading this, then you're probably taller than me now. Not that that's difficult. You were growing faster than weeds.

I smile.

And Bingo... if you're somehow reading this, then congratulations. You've become far smarter than we thought.

Bingo lifts his head.

Dad and I both laugh.

Then the letter becomes more serious.

The doctors told me a long time ago that cancer would probably take me.

The room goes silent.

Dad swallows hard.

I knew there was a chance I wouldn't win this fight.

But I made a choice.

I decided I wasn't going to spend whatever time I had left waiting to die.

Tears blur my vision.

Because if I spent every day thinking about death, then all three of us would stop living long before I actually died.

Dad lowers his head.

The room is completely quiet except for the ticking clock on the wall.

He takes a deep breath and continues.

So I chose birthdays.

Movie nights.

Bad jokes.

Family dinners.

Beach trips.

Every little moment I could get.

Because those moments matter more than cancer ever will.

I feel tears running down my cheeks now.

Dad doesn't even try to hide his.

James, take care of our son.

Dennis, take care of your father.

And both of you take care of Bingo. We all know he runs this family anyway.

Bingo's tail starts wagging.

Dad laughs through tears.

"Your mother really wrote that."

"Sounds exactly like her."

Dad nods.

Then he reads the final lines.

I love you both more than words can ever explain.

Don't stop living because I'm gone.

Keep laughing.

Keep loving each other.

And when you miss me, look at the ocean.

I'll be there in every wave.

Love always,

Mom.

Dad slowly lowers the letter.

Neither of us says anything for a long time.

Then Dad reaches across the table.

For the first time since Mom died, he pulls me into a hug.

A real hug.

Not one of those awkward father-son shoulder pats.

A proper hug.

And honestly?

I needed it.

Maybe he did too.

Bingo jumps up and shoves himself between us, demanding attention.

Dad laughs.

I laugh.

And for the first time in months, our house doesn't feel quite so empty.