I ran. My legs were burning, my lungs screaming for air, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't afford to. Behind me, the thing that had risen from the dark depths of the earth moved with horrifying grace, its unnatural limbs stretching farther than they should have been able to, like something out of a nightmare. Each step I took felt like a victory, but I knew it was only a matter of time before it reached me, before those ghastly arms wrapped around me and—
Crack.
The sound was sharp, like a snap of thunder, but not from the sky. The earth itself seemed to tremble, and I stumbled, my foot slipping on the jagged stone. I fell hard, my breath leaving my chest in a painful whoosh. For a heartbeat, everything was still. The world seemed to freeze as I lay there, face pressed against the cold ground, heart thudding in my ears.
Then I heard it. A voice. A shout.
"Move! Get up, now!"
I didn't know who it was at first. My vision was blurry, my head spinning. But the urgency in the voice cut through the fog, dragging me back to reality. A hand grasped my arm, pulling me up, steadying me.
"Come on," the voice said again, and this time I recognized it. A familiar, calming presence. The woman who had been hiding in the shadows—her voice was deeper now, more forceful, and she wasn't the same terrified creature I'd seen moments ago.
Before I could even blink, I was on my feet again, stumbling toward the edge of the rocks. She dragged me forward, her grip firm, determined.
"Who—" I gasped, my legs still unsteady, my mind struggling to catch up. "Who are you?"
"Focus," she said sharply, pulling me along faster. Her eyes never left the shadows behind us. "I'll explain later. Right now, we need to get off this island."
She was tall, her features sharp, a contrast to the way she'd looked moments ago. There was strength in her, something I hadn't noticed before. Her dark hair was matted against her forehead with sweat, but there was no fear in her movements, only purpose. She was used to this, whatever this was.
As we reached the edge of the cliffs, I finally turned to look back. The thing had halted for a moment, as if it was waiting for us to make our next move, its horrific limbs twitching and contorting in a way that shouldn't have been possible. The void that was its face seemed to pull at the edges of reality itself.
But then, the woman—no, not just a woman, someone who knew how to survive—pulled me behind a large boulder. The thing didn't seem to see us. It lingered for a moment, letting the silence stretch between us like an invisible thread, then slithered back into the shadows.
"Did you see that?" I whispered, my voice shaky. "What the hell is that thing?"
Her hand was still gripping my arm, her fingers warm despite the chill of the night. She looked at me, eyes intense but with a softness beneath them.
"That," she said slowly, as if weighing her words, "is something older than you or me. Something older than this island."
"Wait, you know what it is?" I could barely process her words, but the strange calmness in her voice made it feel like this was just another part of the nightmare we were trapped in. A part she had seen before.
She hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. I've been here longer than you think." She turned to face me fully, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Name's Ava."
I opened my mouth to speak, but she cut me off. "Don't say anything. Just follow me, and don't ask questions you won't like the answers to."
There was something in her voice—a finality, a weariness I hadn't heard before. This wasn't a woman on the edge of panic. This was someone who had been running from this nightmare for much longer than I had. Someone who had survived it.
"I—I didn't know," I said, my voice catching. "I didn't know any of this was real. The ship… the thing… Billy—"
Her grip tightened. "Don't think about him. You can't. Focus."
I swallowed hard, nodding despite the rising lump in my throat. Billy was gone. He was beyond saving. But there was still time for the rest of us.
Ava's eyes scanned the darkness, her sharp gaze flicking from shadow to shadow. She was watching for something, something I couldn't see yet, but I knew we weren't safe.
"Why did you help me?" I asked suddenly, my words coming out before I could stop them. My thoughts were spinning, and I couldn't hold them back. "I don't even know you."
Ava turned back toward me, and this time, the softness in her gaze wasn't just there. It pulled me in. "You don't have to. Not yet. But I'm not going to let you die here."
Her words struck me harder than I expected. I didn't know why, but I felt something—something that wasn't fear. It was warmth, an odd comfort in a place that had none.
Ava had become my tether to the world, to the fragile thread of survival we still clung to. In the span of seconds, she had changed everything. She was the difference between walking into the abyss and running from it.
"I won't let you die here either," I found myself saying, my voice barely above a whisper.
She looked at me, her lips curving into a ghost of a smile. It wasn't happiness, but something else, something deeper. Something that made the ache in my chest less unbearable.
And then she turned back to the island, her expression hardening. "We need to move now," she said, her voice sharp again. "The worst of it is still coming."
Without another word, she took off, moving swiftly between the rocks, and I followed.
For the first time since the ship sank, I felt something like hope flicker. Ava had seen this before. She knew the way. And if she was going to get us out of here, I would follow her through hell itself.
We rounded a corner in the rocks, and I saw it: a narrow path that led up to a jagged cliffside. Above, the black sky opened into a hollow, almost glowing light, as if something was waiting for us beyond the reach of the island.
Ava glanced back at me once more, her expression unreadable. "We'll make it. Just stay close. No matter what."
I nodded, and this time, my legs didn't hesitate.
We were not just running from something. We were running toward something. And with Ava by my side, I had no intention of stopping.
Not until the island was behind us.