Page 21 of Drenched

Jonathan laughed louder, panic threading through it. “Your boogeyman sea god doesn’t scare me. Move, or I’ll, “

Sebastian’s fist slammed into Jonathan’s jaw. The crack was too loud. Jonathan stumbled, cursing, clutching his face. Two fishermen grabbed him, their hands rough and unyielding.

“Get off me!” he shouted, twisting and kicking. It was useless. They dragged him back inside like he weighed nothing.

“Stop!” Kim cried, her voice breaking. “You’re hurting him!”

I grabbed her arm before she got closer. “Don’t,” I said, my voice low and shaking. “You’ll make it worse.”

The villagers didn’t say anything. They just moved, deliberate and methodical. One knocked over the table, glass and metalclattering to the floor. A microscope shattered, pieces scattering everywhere.

Sebastian tipped a shelf, spilling samples onto the floor. The algae glowed faintly where it pooled, staining the wood with ghostly light.

“This isn’t about your samples,” Sebastian said quietly. “This is about him. You don’t take from the Abyss. He takes from you.”

And just like that, it was over. The villagers left, their boots thudding softly. Sebastian disappeared into the mist.

Our makeshift lab lay in ruins. Shards of glass. Glowing puddles. Broken equipment. Jonathan slumped against the wall, blood streaking his face. He was breathing hard, eyes unfocused.

I stared at the mess.

“What now?” I asked, my voice thin. “We can’t call for help. There’s no signal.”

No one answered. Kim leaned against the window, trembling. Jaime sat in the chair, head tipped back. Trevor lit another cigarette, hands unsteady.

“We’re stuck,” Kim said flatly.

And she wasn’t wrong. We weren’t going anywhere. Not until the Abyss decided.

Chapter Eight

By the time the storm hit its peak, it was noon, but it felt like we’d been stuck there for days. The rain hammered the windows, loud enough to drown out my thoughts. Wind whistled through the cracks in the lodge, making everything feel colder. We’d been sitting in the lab for hours, surrounded by broken glass, spilled samples, and overturned tables. No one spoke. No one moved. I think we were all waiting for someone else to break the silence.

Jamie stood up. He winced as he straightened, one hand gripping the chair for support, his injured leg dragging behind him. His hands shook as he gathered the scattered papers and stacked them neatly on the table.

Kim got up next. She didn’t say a word. She grabbed the broom and started sweeping up the glass. The scraping sound filled the room, louder than I expected.

Trevor snuffed out his cigarette, muttering something I didn’t catch. He picked up the knocked-over chairs. Even Jonathan, who always had a smug comment for every situation, quietly gathered what was left of the equipment. Cleaning gave everyone something to focus on besides the fear. It was easier than thinking about what we’d seen.

I stayed where I was, brushing my hands against my neck again. The marks burned faintly, like a warning I couldn’t understand. The others moved around the room slowly, their faces blank and haunted.

When the lab was as clean as it was going to get, they drifted out one by one. Trevor left first, his boots heavy on the floorboards. Kim followed him with the broom in her hand. Jamie was the last to leave, limping and leaning against the wall for support. Even Jonathan, who usually made a show of being the last to leave, walked out like he couldn’t get away fast enough.

I didn’t move right away. The room felt empty now, despite the faint glow of the algae jars in the corner. My eyes wandered to the cages where three mice huddled. They barely twitched, their tiny bodies pressed together like they were too scared or too tired to move.

Willy was off by himself in a smaller cage. His patchy fur and the way he curled up made it seem like he didn’t want to be seen. I walked over to him, trying to keep my movements steady.

I set the other two mice on a table that hadn’t been smashed. Willy’s food dish was empty, so I grabbed the pellets from the shelf and filled it. At first, he didn’t move. He stayed huddled in the corner. Then his nose twitched, and he started nibbling.

“Good boy,” I murmured. It sounded stupid, but it made me feel better. Talking to him was easier than dealing with the silence.

For a while, I just watched him eat. His tiny paws moved quickly. His breathing was uneven but steady. Watching something alive, surviving, felt like it mattered.

I turned off the overhead light before I left. The algae jars glowed faintly in the dark. The door creaked as I pulled it shut behind me, the sound blending with the endless rain outside.

Once in my room, I shut the door and let out a shaky breath. My hand went to my neck, brushing over the marks. They felt warm, like they had a pulse of their own. His mouth, his teeth, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way he’d held me, so possessively, like I wasn’t a person, just something to claim. It wasn’t just a memory. It felt like he’d left a piece of himself behind.

I sat on the bed, my fingers tracing the marks. They throbbed, as if they wanted me to remember. After a minute, I stood and went to the mirror, tilting my head to look.

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