The sea was too quiet that night, and Mark didn't like it. The waves barely moved, the wind didn't make a sound, and the sky above looked heavy, painted in bruised shades of purple and gray.
Mark leaned over the side of the small boat, watching his own reflection in the dark water. His pale face stared back at him, hair messy from the salt air, eyes tired but alert. "Too calm," he muttered. "Always means something bad's coming.
"Would you stop talking like that?" Jessy called from behind him. Her short blonde hair shimmered in the lantern light. "You're gonna jinx us."
Mark grinned. "Relax, sunshine. The ocean doesn't care what I say."
Ummar, standing at the wheel, finally spoke. His deep voice carried easily over the quiet sea. "Sometimes the ocean listens to fear. So maybe say less."
That shut Mark up for a while. Ummar didn't talk much, but when he did, people usually listened.
They had been sailing for two days, following a set of strange coordinates sent from an anonymous source. The numbers didn't appear on any map. No satellite showed land in that area. It was supposed to be just open sea, endless blue. But the message said something else.
"At these coordinates lies the place where the forgotten sleeps.
Jessy was the one who took it seriously. She always had a nose for the impossible. "It matches an old legend," she'd said back at the café before they left. "A phantom island that appears once every decade. People who find it don't come back. Or if they do, they come back wrong."
Mark had laughed then, but he wasn't laughing now. Not when every instinct in him said the ocean was holding its breath.
Jessy suddenly looked up from her notebook. "Do you hear that?"
Mark frowned. "Hear what?"
"That sound. Like… whispering."
He listened. At first, only silence. Then he caught it too — a faint murmur, soft and rhythmic, almost like voices coming from under the boat.
Ummar's hands tightened on the wheel. "That's not the wind.
Before anyone could say another word, the compass needle began to spin on its own. The air grew colder. A thick fog rolled in, swallowing the boat until the world around them disappeared.
"Jessy, cut the motor," Mark said quickly.
She did, and the sudden silence was worse than the sound itself. The whispering grew louder now, circling the boat like something alive.
Then came a loud thud from below. The boat shook.
Mark jumped. "Please tell me that was a fish."
Jessy grabbed the flashlight and leaned over the side. "No fish is that big," she said, shining the light into the water.
The beam caught something that froze her breath. A massive stone face lay beneath them, half buried in coral. Its eyes were closed, mouth open as if it had been screaming for centuries.
Mark swallowed hard. "That's a statue, right?"
Ummar looked closer. "No. Look at the bubbles."
Tiny streams of air escaped from the statue's mouth, as if it was breathing.
Nobody said a word. Then, through the fog, a dark shape appeared ahead.
Jessy pointed. "There. Land."
Mark blinked. "You've got to be kidding me."
But it was real. Against all logic, an island stood in front of them, rising from the sea like it had been waiting for them.
Ummar dropped the anchor, and the boat drifted close to shore. The beach was narrow, lined with black trees that twisted upward like claws. There were no birds, no sound of waves, only that low hum from the earth itself.
The three of them stepped onto the sand. The moment Mark's boots touched the ground, he felt a strange vibration, like the island had a pulse.
Jessy raised the lantern and looked around. "No houses. No signs of life."
Ummar crouched down and brushed the sand with his fingers. "No footprints either. We're the first ones here."
Mark laughed nervously. "Lucky us."
Then he stopped. He could feel something watching them. He couldn't see it, but it was there, hiding between the trees. The air felt heavy, like a thousand eyes were pressed against his back.
"Jess," he said quietly. "Light up the forest."
She pointed the flashlight toward the trees. The beam moved slowly across the trunks, and for a second there was nothing. Then something moved. A quick, dark blur.
Mark's hand went straight to the knife on his belt. "You saw that, right?"
Jessy nodded, her voice shaky. "Yeah. I did."
Ummar's tone stayed calm. "Stay close. Nobody separates."
They walked into the forest, their footsteps soft on the damp ground. The deeper they went, the thicker the fog grew. Whispers brushed past their ears, soft and strange.
Mark flinched when he heard his name. "Mark…"
He turned around, heart pounding. No one was there.
Jessy gave him a look. "You okay?"
He forced a smile. "Yeah. Just hearing voices. Totally fine."
She didn't smile back.
After a while, they found something unusual. A ring of ancient stone pillars stood in a small clearing, covered in moss and vines. Strange blue symbols glowed faintly on the surface. In the middle was a round altar made of the same stone.
Jessy stepped forward, eyes wide. "This must be centuries old. Maybe older."
Mark ran his fingers across one of the carvings. It felt warm, almost like it was alive.
"Don't touch it," Ummar said. "We don't know what it is."
But the stone pulsed beneath Mark's hand before he could move away. The symbols brightened, glowing brighter and brighter until the whole clearing was filled with blue light.
The ground trembled. The air vibrated with a deep, strange hum.
Something rose from the center of the altar. A black crystal, spinning slowly, humming like it was breathing.
Jessy stared. "What the hell is that?"
Mark whispered, "The Core of the Forgotten."
The humming turned into a painful, piercing sound. The air bent like heat waves. Mark saw flashes in his mind — ships sinking, faces screaming, hands reaching from the deep.
Then everything went dark.
When he opened his eyes again, the fog was gone. The forest looked brighter, the colors sharper, but nothing felt right. The air smelled sweet, almost too sweet.
Jessy looked around, confused. "Where's the beach?"
Ummar turned a slow circle. "There is no beach anymore."
They were surrounded by forest on all sides. The ocean was gone.
Mark tried to laugh but it came out shaky. "We didn't walk that far…"
Ummar's eyes narrowed. "The island moved."
A loud cracking sound echoed through the trees. Footsteps followed, slow and heavy.
Jessy grabbed Mark's arm. "Hide."
Before they could move, the trees shifted and a tall figure stepped out. Its skin looked like cracked stone glowing from the inside with faint blue light, just like the altar.
The creature opened its black eyes and spoke, voice rough and deep.
"Welcome back, forgotten ones."
No one moved.
Mark tried to joke, but his voice was trembling. "Guess it remembers us already."
The creature tilted its head, studying them.
"You came to remember. You will."
The ground opened beneath their feet, and they fell into darkness.
Mark caught a glimpse of Jessy screaming, Ummar reaching out, and the sky twisting above them. Then a voice whispered clearly in his mind.
To find the truth, you must forget who you are.
Everything went silent.