The path at the top of the cliff leveled out into a narrow, rocky plateau. The wind cut through the air, sharp and cold, carrying the smell of salt and something else—something rancid. Ava moved ahead of me, her knife still in hand, her steps sure despite the uneven ground. I followed, gripping the rusted crowbar so tightly my knuckles ached. The echoes of the fight below still clung to me like a second skin.
"We need to find shelter," Ava muttered. Her voice was steady, but I could see the way she was favoring her injured shoulder, her movements just a fraction slower. "If that thing doesn't come up here, something else will."
I didn't argue. I couldn't. My thoughts were still spinning from what we'd seen—what we'd fought.
We pushed through the dark, moving past jagged rocks and small pools of stagnant water. Then, from somewhere ahead, we heard a sound.
A voice.
"Is that… someone?" I whispered.
Ava held up her hand, signaling me to stop. She tilted her head, listening. The voice came again—soft, a murmur just audible over the wind. Then another sound followed it, faint footsteps.
Ava gestured for me to stay close, and we crept forward. My heart pounded in my ears as we rounded a curve in the rock. That's when we saw her.
She was crouched near one of the pools, trying to drink the murky water with shaking hands. Her clothes were torn and dirty, her blonde hair matted against her face. She looked up at us, startled, and scrambled back like a frightened animal.
"Hey, hey—" Ava started, her voice calm but firm. She raised her hands in what I assumed was the most non-threatening gesture she could manage while still holding a bloodstained knife.
The girl stared at us with wide, wild eyes. "Who are you?" she choked out. Her voice was hoarse, as though she hadn't spoken or drunk water in days.
"We're survivors," I said quickly, stepping forward. "The shipwreck—were you on the ship?"
The girl nodded slowly. "I… I was. My name's Will."
Will. The name felt odd for someone so small and fragile-looking, but there was no mistaking the sharpness in her gaze. She wasn't as broken as she appeared.
"Will," Ava repeated softly, lowering her knife. "How long have you been up here?"
Will's expression shifted—fear creeping back into her face. "Days? I don't know. I hid. The monster… I saw it take the others. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't…" Her voice cracked.
I glanced at Ava, but she was focused entirely on Will, her sharp gaze scanning the girl's face as though piecing together a puzzle.
"You're safe now," Ava said firmly. "But we can't stay here. There's something worse coming."
Will blinked up at her, still crouched on the ground. "Worse?"
I opened my mouth to reassure her, but before I could speak, another sound stopped me cold. A distant voice—low, rhythmic—chanting.
"Do you hear that?" I whispered.
Ava's expression darkened. "Yeah. I hear it."
The three of us turned toward the sound. It drifted to us from deeper along the plateau, growing louder with every step we took. It was a voice I recognized, but I couldn't place it at first. The words were guttural, broken, as though spoken in a language not meant for human mouths.
"What is that?" Will asked, her voice trembling.
I didn't answer. I couldn't. My stomach twisted as we rounded a sharp corner of the plateau, and that's when we saw him.
Freddie.
He was kneeling in front of a massive rock formation that looked like an altar. His clothes were shredded, his hands filthy and bloody. His head was bowed, his lips moving feverishly as he chanted to the void above. Around him, symbols had been etched into the stone—spirals and jagged marks that seemed to twist when I looked at them too long.
"Freddie?" I said, my voice cracking.
He froze mid-chant, his shoulders twitching. Slowly, he turned his head to look at us, and my blood ran cold. His eyes—once a warm brown—were now empty, as black as the monster's void face. A sick smile stretched across his lips, his teeth stained dark.
"You made it," Freddie rasped, his voice barely human. "It wants you to see."
"Freddie… what happened to you?" I whispered.
He stood, his movements jerky, unnatural. "I understand now," he said, spreading his arms wide. "It's not a monster. It's everything. It's older than us, older than this place. It speaks to me. It showed me the truth."
"Freddie," Ava said sharply, stepping in front of me and Will. "This isn't you. You need to come with us. Now."
Freddie let out a low laugh—an awful, wheezing sound that made my skin crawl. "You don't understand. You can't. But you will."
I barely saw it before it happened—Freddie lunged forward, his filthy hands grabbing at Ava's knife. She sidestepped, her injured shoulder slowing her just enough that he managed to knock her back.
"Ava!" I shouted, charging forward.
Freddie turned on me, his face twisted in rage, his hands scrabbling for my throat. I swung the crowbar instinctively, the metal connecting with his side with a sickening thud. Freddie howled, collapsing to the ground.
Ava was up in seconds, her knife pressed to his throat as he writhed. "Stop it, Freddie!" she shouted. "Whatever you think you've seen—it's lying to you!"
Freddie stopped struggling, his empty eyes staring up at her. He started to laugh again, softly this time. "You'll see," he whispered. "You'll all see. It's coming."
Before Ava could say anything else, the ground trembled beneath us. The air grew heavy, thick, and the strange chanting sounds—Freddie's voice and something else, something deeper—began to rise.
"It knows we're here," Will said in a small voice, clutching my arm.
Freddie's smile widened as his head fell back against the stone altar. "It's too late," he breathed.
The rock beneath us cracked with a deafening boom. From somewhere deep within the earth came a sound—a sound that didn't belong in this world.
Ava grabbed my arm, yanking me and Will back. "We need to go. Now!"
We ran, leaving Freddie behind, his laughter echoing into the night. But I couldn't shake his final words as we fled across the plateau, the monster's presence closing in around us.
It's too late.