The night was pitch black as the waves crashed against the shore. The wind howled through the trees and the rain poured down in sheets. Amidst the storm, Cerys has washed ashore, barely conscious and clinging to a piece of driftwood. Sand stuck to her face and her hair. She was so weak that she could not get up. Her body was soaked from the rain and the sea.
She lay there for a moment, shivering from the cold and trying to gather her strength and her bearings. She had no memory of how she had ended up in this place but she remembered being pushed overboard and the black tentacles that surrounded her. After that nothing else. Her mind was blank. She knew that she had to find shelter from the storm.
