From the lurking depths, tentacles rise, causing everyone to flee, but it is for naught. One grabs the front of the ship, squeezing around it in a strong, tightening grip. The ship snaps in half, one part dragging those still onboard towards a watery graveyard while the monster fixes its attention on the remaining part, holding it aloft, raising it higher and higher until water drips from the ship's hull. A treacherous groaning noise echoes through the night as the monster squeezes and twists the ship. Passengers and crew jump overboard, hoping for a better chance in the ice cold water than onboard, looking into the eyes of that horrific, terrifying kraken. A resounding snap pierces through the night, and what was left of the ship falls from the tentacles, crashing into the water and crushing those desperate to escape. My boss is telling me to stop writing fiction and get on those notes, but I think the octopus is having more fun playing with the ship than waiting around to be studied. And, in a way, I am writing notes, I'm just adding a bit of flair. Now my boss is telling me flair isn't necessary. Oh, well.