Rain slashed sideways across the cliffs as Elara and Rowan stumbled into the open night. The lighthouse tower loomed behind them—its dark silhouette pulsing faintly with movement inside, like a throat swallowing something huge.
The ocean below hammered the rocks in violent bursts, waves exploding upward like white claws. Every crash of water echoed with something too rhythmic… too deliberate…
Like breathing.
Rowan shielded his eyes from the storm."Elara—we can't outrun it out here. There's nowhere to go."
She scanned the cliffs.
There was somewhere.The old supply shed perched near the edge—a small wooden shack anchored into the rock, long abandoned when newer equipment arrived.
If they could make it inside… if the storm helped mask their trail…
She grabbed Rowan's arm."The shed. Go!"
They ran—boots slipping on wet stone, wind roaring around them. Behind, the lighthouse groaned, a terrible organic sound as if the tower itself was bending.
Halfway to the shed, Rowan stopped dead.
"Elara… look."
The sea had changed.
The waves weren't crashing randomly now—they were rising and falling in perfect sequence. In perfect rhythm.
Bah-dumm.Bah-dumm.Bah-dumm.
Like a heartbeat the size of a mountain.
Elara felt the air tighten in her chest."It's waking up something bigger."
Rowan's voice broke."Bigger than that thing in the lighthouse?!"
"Elara," he whispered, pointing at the surf below, "the waves… they're watching us."
Because within each crest—for just a heartbeat—there were faces.
Pale. Drowned. Dozens of eyes floating in the foam, staring up at them with quiet hunger.
Rowan staggered backward."No no no—what is this?"
"The drowned," Elara whispered."All the ones who disappeared near this lighthouse…"
"Are they… alive?"
She shook her head.
"Not anymore."
Rowan turned toward the shed, but something wet wrapped around his ankle.
A hand.
Pale and boneless like kelp.
Rowan screamed as it yanked him to the ground."Elara—HELP!"
She dropped to her knees, digging her fingers into his coat and pulling as hard as she could.
The hand dragged him toward the cliff edge—another hand emerged—then another.
Three. Five. Eight.
All reaching for Rowan.
"Elara—it's pulling me into the water—!"
She grabbed a broken piece of driftwood and started slashing wildly."Rowan, kick! Kick!"
He kicked, breaking one wrist-like joint. Another.The hands recoiled—hissing as seawater boiled around them.
But the ocean… wasn't done.
A huge wave rose, higher than any before, towering above the cliff like a living wall.
In the center of it—
A face.
Not human.Not fully.
Its eyes were black voids.Its mouth stretched impossibly wide.And its voice rolled like thunder through the storm:
"RETURN."
Rowan froze in terror."Elara… what is that?"
"The sea's memory," she whispered.
"The first one it ever drowned."
The wave lunged.
Elara shoved Rowan with all her strength.
"RUN!"
They sprinted the last few meters toward the shed—the massive wave crashing behind them with a roar like an avalanche.
They dove inside the shed just as water surged over the cliff, slamming into the door with crushing force.
The shed shook.
The walls groaned.
But the wave rolled past, retreating slowly, unwilling to give up its prey so easily.
Inside, Rowan and Elara lay soaked, shaking, and breathless in the dark.
Rowan whispered:
"Elara… why won't it stop coming for me?"
Elara didn't answer at first.
But the truth was clawing its way up her throat.
Because Rowan hadn't just seen the creature earlier.
He had been chosen.
"Elara," he whispered again. "Tell me."
She took a trembling breath.
"Rowan… you never told me what you heard when it first called your name."
He swallowed."It said… it had been waiting."
Elara closed her eyes.
"Then it marked you."
The shed creaked as something heavy moved outside—circling.Sniffing.Searching.
Rowan's breath trembled.
"Elara… what do I do?"
She looked into the darkness, her voice a whisper.
"You run until sunrise…or you don't run at all."