You become aware of your surroundings slowly, unsure if this is new or you're only recovering for the last time you succumbed to your environment. You can feel yourself struggling, gripped in place by an unseen force. Around you is a world of blue. Swirling waters whip around you tightly, and you are at the center of their movements, and you almost can hope, hope to break free and shoot out from your bonds and ride the swirling waters out like a surfer can shoot out from beneath the crush of a wave crashing, crushing him in a beautiful blue tube. The air rushes around you with the water, not filling with spray, but rather being sucked away, almost like a vacuum, as if the water was consuming the air around you. As the crush of the water seems to close around you and the panic breaths you take get shallower, you see something dark in the water ahead. It doesn't seem to be coming closer to you so much as it is slowing down as it travels through the same claustrophobic current as you. The shadow beneath the ripped water walls stretches out to the limit of your vision, but looms closer in front of you, suddenly piercing the tunnel to reveal itself as a spiked paddle ended tentacle or tail as it thrashes near you, questing for the thing of interest as if your conscious presence in this prison displease it and now it will smite you with a casual pat of its wagon sized appendage.
Pass out, be struck down, drown, suffocate, no matter which fate you hope for, you have a echoing hollow feeling of certainty that when you come to again, you'll still be at the center of this spiral, and this beastly leviathan will still be inexorably bound to you.