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Maybe it’s the friend I’ve made, whose yawning absence is deeply felt.
“Are you there?”
I don’t expect an answer. And that’s alright. He scares me, how he watches me without a sound. I still don’t know his name, or even what he is. But I feel safer with him than I do with Malachi, whose obsession has become an oppressive hand casting a long shadow over me.
I’d rather choose the ocean.
My pulse rises when the waters splash of their own volition, and I sit up straighter, looking hard into their inky depths. “Is that you?”
Nothing. No evidence it could behim.
I settle onto my dune, letting my dark hair fall down my back, and glance away. “Don’t talk to me, then. I can’t say I’m not used to it.” I let out a little giggle, realizing I’m probably just talking to myself at this point.
Maybe I’m going crazy.
And that’s alright. It’s not a crime to keep one’s own company, is it?
Another splash makes me think I wasn’t imagining it the first time, but I do my best not to look. If it happens a third time, I’ll be certain I’m not cracked. Until then, there is no certainty of anything. It’s daytime. What did I expect?
He must be embarrassed about how he looks,I think, and a deep sense of sympathy nearly bowls me over. It makes me glance at the water again, and I’m certain I see a brackish green tentacle drop beneath the water’s surface.
I blink twice, trying to recapture the image.
But it’s gone.
Where are those eyes I’ve grown accustomed to? Or the boldness in his approach, remaining ever near when I come to this place? I want to see him fully. It’s a desire that has been building since I first realized he existed. It doesn’t seem appropriate to pine for such a thing. He’s a monster, after all. I should be running for my life, not treading danger.
The island is safe enough for a human like me, and here I am, taunting the unknown.
Another splash resonates from the water’s surface, and I catch a glimpse of a shadow dipping beneath the water. I swallow hard, keeping my expression firm. “You are there.”
The shadow wavers beneath the waves.
There’s no doubt about it. I know he’s here. I’m not sure why he’s taken such a liking to me of all people, but it’s a curious pact we’ve made with one another. “I missed you,” I say, silently daring him to come out. “You’re always hiding. I want to see you.”
A head pops up, and I can almost imagine he truly understands me.
Yellow eyes blink, those slitted pupils narrowing as they home in on me. It, he, whatever he is, is a creature of the ocean, no doubt. I can feel my heart pounding in my temples, but I dare to stand and take a step forward. My smile is hard to maintain, between fear and apprehension. But it’s exciting, in its own way.
It breaks the steady monotony of my life.
“Are you afraid to come out?”
Another blink. Nothing definitive. The waters swirl around him in a wide arc, like his mere presence shapes the waves. I’ve only seen glimpses of him until now, but the sun bearing down leaves no room for uncertainty.
The water distorts his shape so I can’t see how big he is until the water breaks. He rises to his shoulders, then to his broad chest, and further, to the corded tightness of his stomach. His skin is a mottled green, and his face is that of a man, I think, with a pressed-in nose and the intense stare of a predator.
I gasp.
His arms are powerful things, with claws at the tips of his fingers and fins, and razor-sharp teeth flash from a humanoid mouth when he lurches from the ocean on eight thrashing tentacles. The rest of the world has faded away, everything but the terror of his pursuit. I scramble backward and stumble as I try to rise against the soft sand.
By the time I find my footing, something hard and wet collides with me, and I find myself slammed against the sand and shells. My scream escapes on a great exhale as the air is thrust from me by his weight alone, and I shield my eyes from his monstrous appearance.
A deep growl resonates in its chest, and my hands are pinned above my head. I squirm hard, feeling heavy appendages tighten around my lower half, curling around my hips and my legs independently of one another.
“Let me go!”
He’s powerful, but his slick flesh gives me just enough leverage to rend free of his grip. I pull hard, then roll to one side, slipping just clear of his terrifying teeth. My struggle seems to enrage him further, but I dig my dull nails into one of the tentacles sprouted from where his legs should be, and it jerks hard, loosening its grip.
