Chapter Five: The Depths of Despair
I lay on the rocks, gasping for air, my chest heaving with each ragged breath. My body was slick with sweat, saltwater, and the remnants of something darker, something I could not—would not—understand. My hands trembled as I pushed myself up, but my legs refused to obey. I collapsed back onto the cold stone, my heart still pounding, the hum ringing in my ears like a living thing, a pulse I could feel deep inside my bones.
I should have been running.
But I couldn't. Not anymore.
Billy's gone. The thought whispered through my mind, a truth too sharp to ignore, too raw to process. I could still see him, his body convulsing, that horrible blackness spreading from the wound on his arm, dragging him into the sand. The way he'd looked at me—his eyes vacant, lost to something that had consumed him completely. That wasn't my Billy anymore. That thing, that thing, had taken him.
I turned my gaze back toward the water, the black sea that stretched endlessly beneath the shrouded sky. The hum came from there, deep from within, vibrating through the very fabric of the world. It was almost… alive.
The mist thickened around me, and I pulled myself to my feet, using the jagged rocks to steady myself. Every part of my body screamed in protest, but I forced myself to move, stumbling toward the far edge of the island. There was no clear path, only sharp stone and twisted roots, but I followed instinct, the need to keep moving, to stay away from whatever that thing was that had claimed Billy.
The figures—those beings—were gone. They hadn't followed me up the rocks. I wondered if they even could. The hum was quieter now, but it still pulsed in my skull, like the ocean itself was calling to me, whispering promises I didn't dare to comprehend.
I reached the top of a narrow ridge, overlooking the beach below. The water lapped at the base of the rocks, eerily calm now, almost too still. I scanned the shore for any sign of movement, but nothing stirred. The island felt like it was holding its breath.
Then I saw it.
A glimmer, faint and distant, near the waterline.
At first, I thought it was just the play of moonlight on the surface of the water, some trick of the fog. But as I squinted, I realized what it was.
The remains of the lifeboat.
It was half-submerged, its jagged, broken pieces jutting out of the black water like a ribcage of some massive beast. The oars were floating nearby, bobbing gently in the water as though they were waiting to be used again. But what had happened to the others? The ones who had been with me in the boat? Where were they?
I looked over my shoulder at the silent, oppressive island. It offered no answers. The mist had thickened even more, swirling around me, making the air feel stifling, oppressive. It was as though the island was trying to close in around me, trapping me here.
I felt the chill creep back into my bones, deeper than before, and I shivered involuntarily. Something was wrong. Everything felt wrong.
A soft cry carried on the wind, distant, but unmistakable. A voice, high-pitched, desperate.
I froze.
It came again, louder this time. A woman's voice.
"Help… please…"
My heart slammed into my chest. I wasn't alone.
I turned toward the sound, my feet moving before my mind could catch up. The air was thick with dread, but I couldn't stop myself. That voice—someone else was out there. A survivor. I had to find them.
I hurried down the ridge, following the faint sound, praying it wasn't some sick trick of the island, the same way the hum had pulled at Billy. The ground beneath me was uneven, jagged rocks hidden beneath a blanket of wet moss and leaves. My legs burned, my head spun, but I pressed on, one step after another, until I reached the edge of the beach.
The voice was silent now.
I stood there for a moment, scanning the area, but there was no sign of anyone. Just the wreckage of the boat, the slick black water, and the endless stretch of shoreline. I could feel my heart pounding in my throat, each beat heavy and deafening in the silence. Then I heard it again.
The scream.
It came from behind me, from the rocks that rose up from the edge of the beach, where the land seemed to fold in on itself. The scream was filled with agony, a sharp cry that sent a jolt of fear through me.
Without thinking, I ran toward it, my feet slipping on the wet stone. As I rounded a corner, I saw her.
A woman, clutching a ragged piece of cloth to her chest, her face contorted in terror. She was crouched low, her body trembling as she stared at something in the darkness, her breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps.
"Hey!" I called out, stepping forward. "Are you okay?"
She didn't respond at first. Her eyes were wide, her face pale, as though she were looking at something too horrifying to be real. I took another step toward her, but she jerked back, her eyes snapping to me.
"No!" she shouted, her voice desperate, almost frantic. "Don't come any closer!"
I froze, confused, my breath catching in my throat. "What's going on? What happened?"
Her eyes flicked toward the rocks behind her, and she shrank back further into the shadows. I could barely make out the shape of something moving—something large, something wrong. I couldn't see it clearly, but I could feel it.
The hum returned, louder now, and I felt it in my chest once again, a bone-rattling throb that seemed to pull at me.
"It's here."
She whispered the words, her eyes wide with terror. Her lips trembled as she began to back away, her hands clutching at the rocks for support.
I heard it then.
A soft rustle, like something dragging through the sand. Something slow, deliberate. The shadow behind her shifted, its movements almost liquid, like it was sliding through the air.
I took a step back. My instincts screamed at me to run, but my body wouldn't listen.
The woman turned to face me, her eyes filled with hopelessness. "Please," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I—I don't know what it is. It's not human. It can't be. It's coming."
The rustling behind her grew louder. I could feel it now, that oppressive weight in the air, the pressure building. Something was moving toward us, from within the rocks, from beneath the earth itself.
I didn't know what it was, but I knew one thing.
We were not safe.
The woman screamed again, and I turned, the ground beneath me shuddering as the creature rose from the darkness, its form impossibly tall, twisting with sickening angles. It loomed over us, its limbs stretching far beyond the limits of what was natural. It moved with a slow, crawling motion, dragging itself forward with terrifying patience.
And then I saw its face.
Or rather, the absence of it.
Where there should have been a face was an abyss, an opening that sucked in the light around it, leaving nothing but an endless void.
The woman let out one final scream before it lunged, and I ran.
I ran, not knowing where, not caring anymore, just desperate to escape the nightmare that was chasing me, swallowing everything in its wake.
The island was alive.
And it was hungry.