Chereads / The devil returns / Chapter 3 - The devil - chapter 2

Chapter 3 - The devil - chapter 2

"And so shall you get," the voice intoned, its words cutting through the night like the toll of a distant bell.

As the voice faded, the ocean began to churn. Far out in the distance, the water swirled unnaturally, rising higher and higher until a massive tide began to form. Within seconds, it grew into a towering wave, monstrous and unrelenting, advancing toward the shore with terrifying speed.

But Josh didn't see it.

His eyes remained shut, his brow furrowed in concentration as he waited for the voice to speak again. He stood motionless, knees trembling, his breath shallow but steady, as if locked in a trance.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the rhythmic crash of distant waves. Confused, Josh opened his eyes—and froze.

The wave, at least three times his height, was now only meters away. Its shadow loomed over him, dark and foreboding, as if the ocean itself had come alive to consume him. His pupils dilated, and his jaw hung open in stunned disbelief.

Instinct took over. He dropped into a crouch, throwing his arms over his head in a desperate attempt to shield himself.

In his panic, he didn't notice the strange transformations taking place. The water that had previously reached his chest was now barely grazing his knees, as though the ocean had retreated just for him. A faint, pulsating glow of red light radiated from his body, laced with streaks of dark, shadowy energy. It flickered like embers in the night, faint yet unignorable, but Josh was too consumed by fear to see it.

The wave crashed down with a deafening roar, swallowing him whole. He felt the world spin as he was tossed and turned, the salty water forcing its way into his lungs. And then—nothing.

The Next Day

A sharp beam of sunlight pierced through Josh's eyelids, waking him with a groan. His head pounded, the remnants of a hangover pounding like a relentless drumbeat. Slowly, he blinked his eyes open, squinting against the brightness of the morning.

The sound of waves greeted him, steady and rhythmic, like an unrelenting lullaby. He could feel the gritty texture of sand beneath his fingers and the faint scent of salt in the air. For a moment, he didn't move, letting the sensations wash over him like the tide.

Groggily, he pushed himself up, resting on his elbows as he took in his surroundings. He was sprawled across the middle section of the beach, not far from the waterline. The beach was already alive with activity despite the early hour.

To his left, a group of young men and women played volleyball, their laughter ringing out with each hit. Couples strolled hand-in-hand near the shore, leaving faint footprints in the wet sand. Further away, food stalls were already busy, the enticing aroma of freshly grilled food wafting through the air. A gentle breeze blew in from the sea, cooling his skin and ruffling his disheveled hair.

Josh groaned and lay back down, pressing his hands to his temples in a futile attempt to ease the throbbing pain in his skull. His mouth was dry, and his muscles ached as if he had been thrown into a blender.

As he stared at the sky, fragments of the previous night flickered through his mind. The voice, so strange and alluring. The overwhelming emotions of anger and despair. The enormous wave crashing down on him.

"A dream," he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse. "It had to be a dream. There's no way that could've been real."

The vividness of the memory unsettled him. He could still feel the icy water against his skin, the sound of the voice echoing in his ears.

"All the bad things happening to me must've messed with my head," he rationalized. "And the alcohol didn't help."

He sighed, the weight of reality crashing back down on him. "So much for alcohol making you forget your pain. Just a myth to sell booze to desperate people."

Josh closed his eyes again, trying to shut out the memories. But the rumble of his stomach quickly brought him back to the present.

With a groan, he sat up fully, brushing sand off his tattered clothes. His headache had dulled slightly, but he still felt weak and disoriented. Hunger gnawed at his insides, sharp and insistent.

Looking around, he realized just how out of place he seemed. His ragged appearance and the faint smell of alcohol still clinging to him made people avert their eyes as they walked past.

Dragging himself to his feet, Josh began trudging away from the beach. The stalls, the volleyball players, the couples—all of them seemed to shift out of his path without realizing it. A volleyball veered sharply away, landing far from where it had been aimed. A gust of wind blew a tent and its umbrella slightly to the side, clearing his way.

Yet no one noticed.

Even Josh, lost in his own thoughts, didn't realize the strange phenomena occurring around him. The world seemed to part for him, subtly and effortlessly, as though guided by an invisible hand.