The sun, brilliant and heavy with its heat, ascended into the skies, pushing away the darkness of the dreadful night. As the moon was forced to hide, the light of the heavens took over. Its gentle warmth touched the trees and woke the diurnal animals.
As its light spread, it soon reached a certain house. Hidden among the trees and built from wood long since rotted.
Crossing the window almost gracefully, the light soon illuminated the interior of a small room.
Inside it, books and papers were scattered all over the floor. The books contained various different languages, as well as alchemical symbols and images of seemingly nonexistent creatures.
The papers, old and nearly falling apart, were covered in a cryptographic language created by the house's own resident.
The room's furniture was also on the verge of collapse. His bed, desk, and wardrobe creaked with the mere passing of the wind, nearly threatening to break with a simple breath of air.
On the desk, before it, stood an equally decrepit chair. In this chair sat a man, his filthy, extremely long hair brushing the floor. His eyes, glazed and sunk into dark circles, were fixed on a particular paper in front of him.
"Almost... almost there..." His nose bled as his frail, almost broken voice echoed through the place.
The paper bore a lunar symbol drawn at the top of the page, with a star at the bottom. To the right and left corners, the alchemical symbols for gold and death. The man frantically drew a massive figure encircling the four already present, interlinking them.
The great figure resembled four tentacles, which, at the center of the page, formed a vast spiral.
Upon finishing the drawing, the man's face grew paler, and his nosebleed worsened.
With his pencil, he stabbed it deep into the flesh of his own hand, quickly pulling it across, opening a wound from side to side. Blood dripped in great quantity over the sheet.
Strangely, even as the blood covered the paper, it began to gather at the center, filling the spiral and then following the path of the tentacles, covering the symbols.
Thump-thump.
The figure pulsed, almost like a heart. Almost like a creature yearning for freedom.
Thump-thump.
The blood boiled, burning the paper and releasing a crimson smoke.
The man's face, now drenched in blood, twisted into an intense smile. He had never felt such joy, such satisfaction.
"Finally... finally..." His vision blurred as he watched the symbol glow and smolder.
The red smoke seemed to follow a path of its own. As it rose toward the ceiling, it soon descended again toward the floor. It did not touch the books or the filth; instead, it crept directly to the scattered papers.
The man only laughed in renewed euphoria as he watched the smoke lift each paper it touched, raising them toward the nearest wall.
The papers clung to the wood, forming a vast image. A massive eclipse, with a red sun in the background and the moon before it, entirely darkened.
Around the eclipse, five enormous tentacles coiled, as if binding the very phenomenon.
The man rose from his chair as he gazed upon the colossal image.
Still holding the pencil, he cut his other hand and knelt before the eclipse's depiction. Raising his bleeding hands, he bowed his head.
"Me tibi offero... Excellentiam tuam et pulchritudinem iterum in hunc mundum emitte."
(I offer myself to you... Release your excellence and beauty upon this world once more.)
The smoke began to seep into the man's body, painting his skin and pouring into his bleeding mouth and nostrils. His breathing halted as his insides burned with excruciating pain. Yet he did not stop smiling, nor did he move from his posture.
As his laughter rang out and his organs burned, he gave his final breath. His body collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. In his death, the smoke seeped into the vast image on the wooden wall, making it pulse with crimson light.
---
That night, the sea was calm. The waves were serene and gentle, as the moon in the sky reflected on the water.
Sailing upon the salty currents was a massive ship. Its wood was coated in black paint, and on its prow stood a great metal statue of the Goddess of Justice. Her long hair was made of gold, glinting with a sacred shine.
The moonlight struck it, spilling silver light that also revealed the enormous sword she held with both hands against her chest. The blade was made of a blue mineral, appearing almost ghostly in the night's glow.
The deck was filled with metal crates, sealed with chains and bolted to the ship's floor.
The enormous sails, bound to black masts and copper-shining ropes, bore a golden hue as bright as the statue's hair. At their center lay the symbol of the goddess of justice—a great sword covered in ancient runes, bound by chains.
From within the ship, sounds of voices and music echoed, carrying across the waves.
Inside, the vessel was lit by numerous lanterns, as well as a great chandelier that flooded light over the pale wood floors and walls. Six long tables, each seating twenty, were laden with food. In the corner sat a red-haired woman. Her green eyes were serene as she strummed her guitar, filling the room with music.
Her dress, a crimson gown with a modest neckline that revealed much of her pale skin, glowed in the lamplight, lending her an angelic aura to match her voice.
Not only her gown drew attention, but also the beautiful necklace around her throat. A jewel of emerald that shone with a magical brilliance.
Even as her voice carried through the hall, it seemed that no one gave her attention. It was as if only her voice could be perceived, as if the woman herself were invisible to the sailors present.
"Ahem." A male voice drew everyone's focus as he climbed onto one of the tables.
He raised his cup, filled with dark wine, and breathed deeply, closing his brown eyes for a moment. His graying, short hair framed a face covered in a rough beard of the same color. His clothes matched those of the others: a leather vest, white linen shirt beneath, and gray trousers, stained and torn.
"My companions, my comrades, my friends, my brothers. Today we complete our long journey! Today we bring to our homeland countless discoveries and show them our success in exploring the new continent!" He lifted his cup toward the crowd. "Today we make history! Today we become rich! Today we honor the Goddess of Justice with our courage and bravery!"
He drank the wine in one gulp, then hurled the cup to the ground, shattering it.
"Drink and eat, brothers! For today we are heroes!"
Cheers erupted at the end of his speech. The sailors ate and drank with greater joy and fervor.
The noise was so loud that none noticed when the red-haired woman disappeared together with her song, leaving only her guitar behind.
Whoosh whoosh.
The wind grew restless, the waves swelling and striking the ship with fury. Anchors rattled against the dark hull, their chains crying with metallic clamor.
Balanced on the prow stood the woman with long red hair. Her voice echoed across the ocean as she fingered her necklace.
Her smile widened as she ceased her song. Turning her back to the sea, she removed her necklace.
Spreading her arms, she cast herself into the raging waves below.
Those inside the ship soon felt the pounding waves and the frantic lurch of the vessel.
"What the—" The man who had given the speech, the captain of the crew, staggered to his feet, fighting off his drunkenness.
He was the first to reach the stairs leading to the deck.
As he opened the door, he saw the metal crates rocking, their chains straining to break loose.
"Men! Come! Prepare for a storm!" he ordered, with no time to dwell on the strangeness of the scene. He forced his mind to focus on solutions.
Dozens of men poured onto the deck, each knowing his task.
Some held down the metal crates, others grabbed hammers and nails to fasten the chains tighter, stabilizing them.
The captain rushed to his post, gripping the helm and straining with all his strength to steady the ship, keeping it on course.
The situation was dire, but not unfamiliar. This crew had weathered such trials before. They had been at sea for two years, exploring and conquering. They were not only skilled explorers but also near-perfect sailors.
Once the crates were secured, the men hurried to the sails, while others dashed below deck to safeguard the cargo within.
The storm seemed under control. Once again, they would survive.
Until... a voice rang out. Soft, like a lullaby.
The captain's heart quickened. For a moment, he released the wheel, struck with dizziness.
"Captain!" A crewman's shout broke his trance. "Look!"
Lanterns turned toward the sea.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of figures appeared. Their beauty was divine, to say the least. Each had flawless bodies, long flowing hair drifting in the water. Their garments barely covered them, their eyes brimming with affection.
"Ohh~"
Their singing began. Hundreds of voices spread across the waves, piercing the sailors' ears. Hearts raced in unison, bodies froze, as though hypnotized.
"Before the sea,
The beauty you see,
Come swim,
Let us embrace,
Let us deliver you,
We will take your tiredness away.
Just leap into the water, and let yourself drift."
Their voices were sweet, soothing. Like a mother comforting her child after a nightmare. It was impossible to resist.
One by one, the sailors approached the railings, leaping without fear.
One by one, they vanished into the depths, no longer visible beneath the moonlight.
The captain was not spared. His steps were slow but resolute as he neared the edge, preparing to jump.
But just as he leaned forward, he saw it. Blood in the water. Severed arms and gnawed flesh. Eyes floated. Skulls surfaced.
His mind jolted awake, his vision shifted.
The captain collapsed backward, crashing onto the deck.
Where were the radiant figures he had seen moments before?
Before him stood nothing but dreadful creatures. Their bodies were humanoid, their skin as blue as the deep sea. Their eyes, like eels, glared at their prey. Their smiles revealed jagged fangs.
Their lower halves were great fish tails.
"No... no..." His mind spiraled into terror. His heart seized, his stomach churned. He vomited across the deck.
He searched desperately for his crew, for his brothers. No one remained. The only trace of them was in the sea—their skulls, limbs, and flesh. Only fragments of corpses.
As his breath quickened and his heart pounded, he heard a sound. Wood breaking.
He whipped his head around. A monster was climbing onto the deck. He could do nothing but watch its face emerge.
His blood froze as he saw the creature place an emerald necklace upon itself. Its tail vanished, forming long legs.
He stood up and tried to flee towards the ship interior's door. but once again the creatures' song echoed, ghostly and inescapable. His body froze, helpless, as the monster drew near.
Her red hair blew in the wind, her green eyes gleaming with greed.
Her steps were heavy, haunting. When she reached him, she touched his face with long, sharp claws, piercing his skin and drawing blood.
"N-no, p-please..." he stammered, throat locked in terror.
The creature gave no answer. Instead, she licked his wound with her blue tongue, tasting his blood.
She lowered her face to his neck, inhaling deeply. He felt her icy breath against his skin.
"Harita, Friras," she whispered. Before he could even ponder the meaning, her fangs sank into his throat, tearing it open.
His body hit the deck, blood choking him as the monster climbed atop his chest, bringing her terrible face close.
"Harita, Friras," she said again, before devouring the front of his skull.
The voices and cheers were silenced within minutes. The only sounds left aboard were the wet, sickening noises of the captain's flesh being eaten.
That night, something was awakened... and it brought with it horrors unimaginable and impossible to confront.