Descent

She had spent her whole life being told the sea kept its own counsel. Tonight it seemed determined to speak.

The wind howled like a beast unleashed, tearing through the wooden slats of the old lighthouse. Mira tightened her grip on the rusted rail, staring out into the darkness that swallowed the horizon.

“It's coming,” Elias shouted over the roar. She didn't need him to tell her that.

The first wave hit the cliffs below, sending a spray of salt and foam high into the air. Somewhere beneath the noise, a bell began to toll — slow, deliberate, wrong.