#swallow tailed gull | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hellinistical · 6 days ago

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fem! reader x rafayel. royal! au. sea horror! au. heavy angst. minor and major character death. slow burn. romance. fluff. explicit smut. trauma. religious themes. gore; hinted torture, cannibalism, decapitation, self-cannibalism. violence. wc: 5375 a/n: ty for the support <3 additionally, there is now a map! its on the masterlist

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V: LOOSE BARREL

The northern beaches were a desolate expanse of jagged cliffs and weathered stones, where the cold wind howled and the sea churned angrily. The water, an icy shade of steel gray, lashed against the unforgiving rocks with a relentless fury, spraying salt into the air. There was no warmth here, no gentle sand to soften the harsh edges of the coastline—just sharp, uneven terrain that seemed to mirror the chaos of the storm brewing far in the distance.

The tide surged and withdrew, erasing any sign of life that might have dared to cross this isolated stretch of land. There were no footprints, no remnants of human presence. Only the sea claimed this place, its wild energy unchecked by time or tide.

Above, the sky hung low, cloaked in heavy clouds that promised no reprieve from the cold. Gulls circled high overhead, their cries swallowed by the crash of the waves below. In the distance, the faint silhouette of a ship bobbed on the horizon, but it was moving away, as if even the sailors knew better than to linger here.

The only sound was the relentless slap of the water against rock, an unending rhythm that seemed both soothing and ominous. This was a place that belonged to no one—untamed, unyielding, and as timeless as the sea itself.

Beneath the tumultuous surface of the northern waters, the world transformed into a murky graveyard. Twisted remnants of mankind's carelessness floated aimlessly, forgotten nets tangled with drifting planks, and rusted barrels spilled their secrets into the currents. Among the debris, a ship loomed in the shadows, its once-proud hull now a skeleton of rotting wood and corroded iron.

The ship's figurehead, once carved in intricate detail, was eroded beyond recognition, its haunting form half-buried in the silt below. Seaweed clung to every surface, swaying like ghostly tendrils in the cold currents. Portholes gaped like empty eyes, staring into the abyss of the deep.

Schools of fish darted through the wreckage, weaving around shattered beams and the skeletal remains of the cargo hold. Barnacles encrusted the jagged edges, and anemones pulsed with eerie life, taking refuge in the decay. The ship, forgotten by those who had once sailed it, had become part of the underwater ecosystem, a silent testament to humanity’s indifference and the ocean’s relentless claim over all that entered its domain.

Above, the faint shafts of light from the storm-darkened sky barely pierced the depths, leaving much of the wreck cloaked in shadow. But if one were to look closely, they might notice something unnatural moving among the ruins—something that didn’t belong to the sea or the remnants of mankind’s negligence.

The creature moved with an elegance that belied its brutality, each motion fluid and deliberate. A finned hand reached out lazily, snatching a fish with practiced ease. Its other hand deftly plucked the fins from the squirming prey, casting them aside to drift aimlessly into the watery void.

With sharp teeth glinting faintly in the dim light, the being bit into the fish. The snap of fragile bones and the crunch of cartilage echoed faintly, muffled by the dense water. A bloom of red blossomed from the wound, spreading like ink in the surrounding currents.

Its body moved like silk through the water, iridescent scales catching the faint light and shimmering in hues of blue and lavender. Long strands of violet hair floated around its head, framing its otherworldly visage like a halo of deep sea fog.

The creature paused mid-bite, its slit-pupil eyes narrowing as it surveyed the wreckage around it. The rhythmic motion of its tail was the only sound as it hovered silently in the darkened expanse, a predator perfectly at home in its haunting domain.

It cast aside the half eaten fish, moving along to inspect the ship more closely.

The half-eaten fish drifted downward, its lifeless body caught in the slow pull of the ocean's depths. The creature moved on, its sleek form weaving effortlessly through the water, tail undulating with an almost hypnotic rhythm.

The rotting ship loomed before it like a forgotten monument, its decaying wooden beams splintered and overgrown with barnacles. Rusted metal fittings clung stubbornly to the remnants of the hull, and torn sails fluttered faintly in the water’s currents like ghostly shrouds.

It reached out, a webbed hand trailing along the wreck’s surface. Wood crumbled beneath its touch, breaking apart into a fine cloud of debris. The ship reeked of human folly—bottles, rusted tools, and broken chests lay scattered like remnants of a forgotten life.

The creature's gaze narrowed, sharp eyes scanning for something unknown. It paused to pry open a cracked crate, its claws making quick work of the weakened wood. Inside, a glint of metal caught its attention—useless trinkets to some, but perhaps not to it. The faint movement of a crab scuttling into the shadows drew no reaction; this was no scavenger hunt.

The ship was a tomb, but there was something here worth finding. Something it sought. It continued its exploration, movements purposeful and predatory, undeterred by the wreckage's quiet decay.

A series of sharp clicks and low chirps echoed through the water, reverberating off the broken walls of the sunken ship. The soundwaves danced through the gloom, painting a mental map in his mind—a predator’s sonar, seeking life or secrets hidden in the decaying wreck.

The clicks bounced back with muddled signals, disrupted by the ship’s rotting wooden beams and encrusted metal. But faint traces of movement flickered at the edges of his perception. Small fish, maybe, or something larger lurking in the deeper shadows of the wreck.

He moved closer, his iridescent scales shimmering faintly in the dim light filtering from the surface above. With a flick of his powerful tail, he swam around a broken mast, weaving through a tangle of seaweed that had claimed part of the hull. The chirps grew sharper, faster, as he honed in on the disturbance—a lingering curiosity gnawing at him.

The water grew colder as he neared the heart of the wreck. A shadow shifted, barely visible. Something had been here, recently. He clicked again, the sound bouncing back with clarity this time.

He paused, narrowing his piercing gaze, the eerie calm of the waters around him amplifying the tension. Whatever was here might still be watching. Or waiting.

The water grew colder as he neared the heart of the wreck. A shadow shifted, barely visible. Something had been here, recently. He clicked again, the sound bouncing back with clarity this time.

He paused, narrowing his piercing gaze, the eerie calm of the waters around him amplifying the tension. Whatever was here might still be watching. Or waiting.

The sharp clicks reverberated once more, only to be met with a flash of movement. A female siren emerged from the jagged opening in the rotting wood, her sleek form twisting gracefully through the water. Her iridescent scales glimmered faintly in the muted light, but her toothy grin was anything but serene.

"Fancy seeing you here," she crooned, her voice lilting and sharp like the edges of broken glass. She twirled lazily, her fins brushing against the algae-covered hull as if mocking the ship’s demise.

He huffed, his irritation palpable, bubbles escaping his lips in a flurry. Clicking his tongue sharply, he folded his arms, his tail giving an annoyed flick that stirred up silt from the seabed.

"Do you ever have anything better to do?" he asked, his tone as cold as the deep-sea currents swirling around them.

Her grin widened, revealing rows of needle-like teeth. "Oh, but this is far more interesting than anything else. And you—you’re always so fun to watch when you’re brooding."

"Go play somewhere else," he snapped, his voice carrying the faint edge of a growl. "I don’t have time for your games."

She tilted her head, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "Always so serious," she mused, clicking her own tongue in a mocking imitation. "What are you even doing here, hmm? Looking for scraps, or just sulking by the wreck?"

He turned away from her, his patience already threadbare. "None of your business."

Her laughter rang out, a haunting melody that echoed through the water. "Oh, but it is my business when you’re in my waters," she teased, gliding closer. "Careful, or you might make me think you’re hiding something."

Her laughter softened, curling around her words like seaweed around driftwood. Gliding closer, she plucked the discarded fish from where it floated lazily in the water, its half-eaten form a morbid offering.

"Tell me," she began, sinking her sharp teeth into the remains, a burst of crimson clouding the water around her lips. "How has it fared, hmm? Your meals so graciously given to you by that man?"

He stilled, his broad shoulders tightening at her words. His gaze, sharp and unyielding, flicked toward her, annoyance flashing in his bioluminescent eyes. "What are you trying to say?"

She chewed slowly, her grin widening as if she savored not only the taste but his irritation. "Oh, nothing," she replied with mock innocence, flicking her fins playfully. "Just curious. You’ve been... preoccupied lately. Swimming in circles, perhaps hoping for something new to fall into your net?"

His tail lashed, and the water rippled violently around him. "You don’t know anything," he growled, voice low and dangerous.

Her chuckle was dark, almost conspiratorial. "Don’t I?" she cooed, brushing a strand of violet hair from her face with a taloned hand. "Oh, I’ve seen you. Darting around the shallows like a curious pup, chasing a shadow that doesn’t belong in the water."

"Stay out of it," he snapped, his voice cutting through the water like a blade.

Her grin only grew sharper. "Touchy, touchy," she said, tossing the fish’s hollowed carcass aside. "I wonder what would happen if that little secret of yours found its way to more... eager ears."

He moved in an instant, closing the distance between them with a speed that made her flinch, his hand gripping her wrist tightly. His face was inches from hers, his voice a venomous whisper. "You’ll keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you."

For the first time, her grin faltered, though she quickly masked it with a sardonic smirk. "Fine," she drawled, twisting free of his grip. "But you should know, secrets have a funny way of slipping through the cracks—just like water."

Above the sirens, vibrations rippled through the cold, murky waters—strong, deliberate, unmistakable. He froze, his sharp gaze shifting upward as the disturbances sent faint currents cascading around him.

A ship?

It wasn’t unusual for the occasional vessel to drift far from its intended path, but here? In these treacherous Northern waters of Chronosia? No human dared venture this close to the Anbusas coast, not if they valued their lives. The stories alone were enough to keep even the most intrepid sailors away—rumors of sharp rocks hidden beneath the waves, sirens with haunting songs, and ancient, cursed tides.

And yet, the vibrations were undeniable, the slow, steady rhythm of oars or an engine cutting through the water, bringing the presence of something very alive—and very human.

The female siren reemerged from the shadows, her earlier amusement replaced by curiosity. "Do you feel that?" she asked, her voice now low and wary, her playful demeanor vanishing like a ripple dissipating on the surface.

He nodded, his gaze narrowing as he tilted his head to the side, listening intently. The clicks and hums of the ocean around them were muffled by the heavier, alien sounds above—a steady thrum of wood and iron clashing against the restless sea.

"No human comes this far north," he murmured, his tone more to himself than to her. "Not willingly."

"Yet here they are," she replied, her own bioluminescent eyes gleaming in the dim light as she swam closer to him, tension vibrating in her every movement. "Brave, aren’t they?"

"Or foolish," he muttered darkly.

The vibrations intensified, and a faint shadow passed over the water above them—a long, hulking silhouette cutting through the waves like a predator stalking its prey.

"Should we?" she asked, her sharp grin returning as her fingers flexed, claws gleaming.

He hesitated, his tail swaying as he considered the possibilities. It wasn’t fear that held him back; it was calculation. A ship this far north couldn’t just be a coincidence.

"Not yet," he said finally, his voice firm. "We watch first."

With a flick of his tail, he moved toward the ship’s path, disappearing into the murky depths as the vibrations continued to rattle through the water, signaling the approach of something unknown—and potentially catastrophic.

***

Above the waves, a massive ship cut through the restless waters, its size and grandeur almost defiant against the foreboding backdrop of the Northern seas. The hull was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, each plank carved with intricate designs—swirling motifs of sea serpents, storm clouds, and gods in battle, their forms interwoven in a way that seemed alive, almost breathing with the motion of the ocean.

The ship’s grandeur was undeniable, its towering masts stretching high above the dark water, sails taut and glistening with rain. Ornate lanterns hung from the railings, their flickering flames casting ghostly reflections across the wet, polished deck. This was no ordinary vessel; it was a thing of beauty and power, a stark contrast to the hostile waters it dared to traverse.

The ship’s bow was crowned with a figurehead, a towering depiction of a siren—beautiful and terrible. Her carved expression was one of agony and wrath, her arms extended toward the sea as though in a plea or a curse. Gold and silver accents glinted in the dim light, betraying the wealth of those who had sent this ship into such dangerous waters.

The crew aboard moved with purpose, their shouts carried faintly by the wind. They weren’t simple merchants or fishermen; their uniforms, weapons, and coordinated movements suggested something more deliberate.

An air of tension hung heavy over the deck, the men glancing uneasily at the churning water below and the storm clouds gathering in the distance. One of them, a broad-shouldered man with a weathered face, stood at the helm, his hands gripping the wheel with knuckles pale against the wood.

"The ship is too damn big for this," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, his eyes scanning the horizon.

"And yet here we are. Tell it to the captain." another man replied, his voice laced with dry humor, though his hand lingered nervously on the hilt of his sword.

The ship groaned as it pressed forward, the waves slapping against the intricately carved hull as if the sea itself were trying to push it back, to warn it away from the dangers it did not yet fully comprehend.

Marlon, a gruff man with sun-scorched skin and a permanent scowl, spat over the side of the ship, the wind catching the fleck before it disappeared into the sea. Rolling his strained shoulders, he muttered, "The captain won’t listen. Says it’s too good of a hunt waitin’ out here. Still don’t make sense why we took this boat—got imperial sigils all over it."

His tone was sharp, dripping with disdain as he jerked a thumb toward the intricately carved hull. "Like we ain’t already makin’ ourselves a big enough target just bein’ here."

The other man leaning against the railing with a hand near his sword, Ryder, chuckled humorlessly. "A hunt, he says. As if the sea gives a damn about our quarry. Imperial sigils or not, these waters’ll swallow us whole if they’ve a mind to."

Marlon grunted, his brows furrowing deeper as he scanned the horizon. The heavy clouds above mirrored the unease in his chest. "Hunt or no hunt, I’m tellin’ ya, we should’ve stayed south. Ain’t no fish worth pissin’ off what lives under this stretch of water."

The other man didn’t reply, only tightening his grip on his weapon. The air seemed thicker here, heavier. It wasn’t just the threat of the storm—it was something deeper, something ancient. Even the ocean spray felt colder, biting through their thick coats like icy fingers.

Marlon’s voice dropped, almost a whisper. "And this boat? It’s too damn pretty. Too loud. If we’re not careful, it’s gonna bring somethin’ outta those depths we don’t wanna see."

Marlon turned at the sound of the low, gravelly voice, his eyes narrowing as Luke and Kieran approached. Their crow masks gleamed faintly in the dim light, polished beaks lending them an eerie presence.

"Gentlemen," Luke began, his tone cool and measured. "A problem?"

Kieran tilted his head slightly, the hollow sockets of his mask staring straight at Marlon, who felt a chill race up his spine despite himself. Ryder, the younger of the two men at the railing, cleared his throat nervously, but Marlon wasn’t one for being intimidated—not by masks, and not by men who thought them fancy.

He spat over the side again, the sound of it sharp against the restless waves. Straightening his back, he gestured toward the ornate ship with a rough hand. "Yeah, a problem. This whole setup’s a damn problem. I don’t like this boat, I don’t like these waters, and I sure as hell don’t like the captain’s obsession with huntin’ here. We’ve no business in these parts, imperial sigils or not."

Luke and Kieran exchanged a glance, their expressions unreadable behind the dark visors of their masks. Kieran’s voice came low and slow, deliberate in its weight. "The captain’s orders aren’t up for debate. You’ll follow them, just like everyone else on this crew."

"And what’s the captain chasin’ that’s worth endangering us all, huh?" Marlon shot back, his tone sharp. "You can’t tell me he doesn’t know what’s down there."

Luke chuckled softly, the sound unsettling as it escaped the beak-like mask. "You think too much, Marlon. It’ll get you into trouble."

"Thinkin’s all that’s kept me alive this long," Marlon snapped.

Kieran stepped closer, his broad figure casting a shadow over Marlon. "Then think about this. You’re on his ship, in his waters. If you’ve got doubts, you’re welcome to take your chances overboard. Otherwise, keep your mouth shut and do your job."

The two masked men lingered for a moment longer, their presence suffocating. Then, without another word, they turned and disappeared into the ship’s shadows.

Marlon shook his head, muttering under his breath, "Damn fools are gonna get us all killed." Ryder, still tense, exhaled shakily beside him. "They might hear you," he whispered.

"Let ‘em," Marlon grumbled, though his eyes kept flicking nervously toward the dark waves below.

But just then-

A thunderous boom reverberated through the ship, sending Marlon and Ryder stumbling backward. The entire vessel groaned as if in agony, the sound of splintering wood rising above the waves.

"What in the hells was that?!" Marlon barked, clutching the railing for balance as the ship rocked violently.

Ryder scrambled to his feet, wide-eyed, his gaze darting over the edge of the railing. "Something hit us! Something big!"

The crew erupted into chaos, men shouting orders and curses as the ship listed dangerously to one side. The ornate carvings along the hull cracked and splintered, some breaking off entirely to be swallowed by the churning sea below.

From the shadows of the deck, Luke and Kieran reappeared, their crow masks gleaming ominously. Luke’s voice cut through the clamor like a blade. "All hands on deck! Arm yourselves!"

Kieran strode to the center of the chaos, barking orders with precision. "Secure the cargo! Watch the waterline!"

Another jarring thud rocked the ship, this time sending a shower of seawater and debris over the deck. Marlon gripped the railing tighter, his knuckles white as he scanned the dark waters below.

And then he saw it.

A shadow, massive and serpentine, slithered just beneath the surface, its form too large to comprehend fully. The water churned violently in its wake, glowing faintly with an otherworldly blue-green light.

"By the gods," Marlon breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. Ryder, standing frozen beside him, followed his gaze and let out a strangled gasp.

The shadow moved again, circling the ship with an unsettling grace. Whatever it was, it wasn’t human—or anything else Marlon had ever seen before.

From the depths, a deep, resonant growl echoed, a sound that sent shivers through every man aboard. The ship groaned once more, the ancient wood seeming to protest the presence of the beast.

Kieran’s voice boomed above the chaos, his calm veneer beginning to crack. "Stand your ground! Whatever it is, it bleeds!"

But Marlon wasn’t so sure.

The crow's nest, high above the chaos, swayed dangerously with the ship's violent rocking. Its once-proud occupant, a large black bird, was nowhere to be seen—likely seeking refuge with the captain below deck, if not having flown off entirely.

Luke’s sharp tone snapped through the din. "You there! Secure the starboard side before we lose it altogether!" His crow mask turned sharply toward the men scrambling with ropes and barrels.

Kieran, ever the strategist, stood at the opposite railing, assessing the situation with an unshakable focus. "Reinforce the hull breach!" he commanded, pointing to where seawater was beginning to seep through splintered wood. "We’re not sinking on my watch!"

Another thunderous crash rattled the ship, the force throwing several men off balance and scattering loose cargo across the deck. The sound of grinding wood and the eerie groan of the hull filled the air.

Ryder stumbled, clutching Marlon’s arm to steady himself. "This thing’s playing with us," he muttered, voice trembling. "It could’ve sunk us by now if it wanted to."

Marlon gritted his teeth, his eyes darting to the waterline. "Don’t say that out loud, boy. You’ll give it ideas."

The shadow beneath the waves appeared again, circling slower this time, almost taunting. The glowing bioluminescence trailing behind it cast an eerie light on the ship’s underside, illuminating the intricate imperial sigils etched into the wood.

Luke’s head snapped toward the bow as the shadow moved. "Keep your weapons ready!" he barked. "No hesitation!"

Kieran turned sharply to face the gathered men. "We’ll lure it out," he said, his voice low but carrying over the chaos. "Make it show itself. Harpoons ready. Aim for the head or whatever it calls a heart."

"But what if it doesn’t have one?" a voice called out, trembling with fear.

Kieran’s masked face turned toward the voice, his tone icy. "Then we make one."

The ship groaned again, the vibrations resonating through every plank and rope. Whatever circled them wasn’t just a beast. It was something far more intelligent, something testing them. And it wasn’t finished yet.

A hand, slick and glistening with seawater, reached out and tightened its grip on the wooden rail, long claws digging into the soaked wood. The faint bioluminescent glow along the webbing pulsed like the heartbeat of the sea itself. With an eerie smoothness, it pulled itself up, revealing more of the creature that followed.

A scream tore through the night, sharp and panicked, as one of the crew caught sight of the intruder. "By the gods!" he cried, stumbling backward and tripping over a coil of rope.

The figure loomed over the rail now, its upper body humanoid yet alien. Iridescent scales shimmered in hues of violet and blue, reflecting the dim lantern light. Long, sleek strands of lavender hair clung wetly to its face and shoulders, framing angular features that were both beautiful and unnerving. Its eyes, slit-pupiled and glowing faintly, scanned the deck with an unsettling intelligence.

Luke and Kieran froze for a moment before snapping into action.

"Ready the harpoons!" Luke shouted, drawing his blade.

Kieran stepped forward, his stance steady even as the deck pitched beneath him. "Stand your ground! It’s just one. We’ve faced worse."

The creature tilted its head, watching the chaos it had stirred with an almost amused expression. Water dripped from its elongated fingers, each ending in a sharp claw, as it gripped the rail tighter.

Another man screamed, clutching a makeshift weapon—a gaff hook—and stepping back in terror. The creature’s gaze snapped to him, its lips curling into a sharp, toothy grin.

Marlon spat again, though his hand trembled as he held his harpoon. "Ain’t no fish I’ve ever seen."

The creature finally spoke, its voice resonating like the deep echo of waves in a cavern. "You... should not have come here."

The words sent a chill through the crew, the weight of their mistake crashing down on them like the waves below.

“Shuveyr… Shuveyr save us,”

The hand, slick and glistening with seawater, tightened its grip on the wooden rail, long claws digging into the soaked wood. The faint bioluminescent glow along the webbing pulsed like the heartbeat of the sea itself. With an eerie smoothness, it pulled itself up, revealing more of the creature that followed.

A scream tore through the night, sharp and panicked, as one of the crew caught sight of the intruder. "By the gods!" he cried, stumbling backward and tripping over a coil of rope.

Another man screamed, clutching a makeshift weapon—a gaff hook—and stepping back in terror. The creature’s gaze snapped to him, its lips curling into a sharp, toothy grin.

Marlon spat again, though his hand trembled as he held his harpoon. "Ain’t no fish I’ve ever seen."

The creature finally spoke, its voice resonating like the deep echo of waves in a cavern. "You... should not have come here."

The creature's lips curled further, the expression both amused and terrifying, revealing rows of sharp, jagged teeth that gleamed like polished bone in the dim light. Her iridescent scales shifted with an unsettling fluidity, as if her body was part of the ocean itself. Her eyes—deep, endless pools of violet and pink—locked onto the man who had invoked Shuveyr, a slight glimmer of recognition flickering within them.

"Shuveyr?" Her voice was soft yet resonated with an eerie echo, as though the very sea had spoken. "A goddess to call upon in your desperation?" She tilted her head, her hair falling like strands of dark silk, glistening with droplets of seawater. "She does not dwell here... not where I reign."

The crew was silent now, the weight of her words sinking in. The terror among them was palpable, as if they were standing on the edge of something ancient and deadly. The deck creaked ominously beneath their feet, and the winds picked up, howling with the ferocity of a storm on the horizon.

"You’ve ventured too far," the creature continued, her voice lilting as she stepped forward, her webbed feet soundless against the wood. Her gaze flicked to the ship’s stern, where the rest of the crew stood frozen, some still clutching their weapons, others too afraid to move. "There is no safe haven in these waters. No gods, no prayers can protect you from the depths of the sea."

Marlon swallowed hard, his hands shaking as he gripped his harpoon tighter. "What do you want from us?" His voice cracked, and despite his bravado, the terror was evident.

The siren's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger. "Your lives are forfeit. A small price for trespassing in these waters... but perhaps," she mused, her tone shifting to something more calculating, "perhaps I could offer you a trade."

The men exchanged uncertain glances, some hesitating, others desperate to find a way out of the nightmare unfolding before them.

"What trade?" Luke dared to ask, his voice steady despite the fear twisting in his gut.

"Let me think," the siren said with a tilt of her head, her smile never wavering. "You can give me what you value most—your pride, your treasure, or perhaps... your very souls."

Her gaze swept over the crew, pausing on each man for just a heartbeat too long. "Choose wisely," she added, her voice softening into a whisper, "for I know what lies beneath your skins."

The wind howled again, drowning out the crew's responses, and the ship creaked louder, as if groaning under the weight of its impending doom.

A heavy silence settled over the ship, thick and suffocating. The men stood frozen, eyes wide, hearts racing, as the siren disappeared beneath the waves. Her haunting eyes, filled with unspoken promises, faded into the deep, leaving only the echo of her voice hanging in the air like a curse.

For a moment, there was nothing—no movement, no sound save the relentless crash of the waves against the hull. The men held their breath, waiting, uncertain of what would come next. The stillness was so profound that it felt as though time had stopped.

And then, the barrels, unsecured by the chaos, began to shift.

A low groan from the ship's timbers echoed, the sound growing louder as the barrels, laden with supplies, began to roll and tumble across the deck. The men, still in shock, moved hastily to prevent the containers from sliding off the ship, but it was too late—several rolled to the edge and crashed overboard, splashing into the water below.

From the depths, something stirred.

The water around the ship churned violently as if something large was moving just beneath the surface, circling, waiting. The men froze again, eyes darting toward the waves, but there was no sign of the siren, no sign of what was to come next.

Then, the sound of creaking wood—a deep, groaning sound—came from beneath the hull. It was as though the ship itself were buckling under some unseen force, its timbers straining against the pressure.

Luke, his face pale, looked toward the horizon, his voice barely a whisper. "We're not alone."

And before anyone could respond, the sea erupted.

Massive, dark shapes shot up from the water, enormous and terrifying, their forms shifting in the shadows beneath the surface. Tentacles, black and slick, coiled and lashed against the ship’s sides, pulling with unimaginable strength. The ship lurched violently, a deep, ominous growl vibrating through the planks.

The crew scrambled, shouting orders and fear-stricken prayers, but it was clear that whatever had risen from the depths was far beyond their control. As the ship groaned under the assault, the unmistakable sound of tearing wood filled the air, and the men knew—this was no ordinary storm. This was the wrath of something ancient, something that had waited in these waters for far too long.

But something else. The raven had made its appearance, cawing. Heavy foot steps sounded- thud, thud, thud.

The captain was here.

“Grab the nets. I want a siren.”

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