She sat on the cold lighthouse floor, back against the wall, breathing hard.
Her arms burned, her legs ached, and her clothes clung to her skin, soaked and heavy. Every breath she took felt like it might be her last.
With trembling fingers, she pulled out her phone. Maybe—just maybe—she could call for help.
Click.
Nothing.
She pressed the power button again.
Still black.
The sea had ruined it. Water had seeped in when she jumped from the ship. Useless.
Even if it had worked, she already knew—no signal, not this far out. They had been cut off since the engine failed.
Frustrated, she dropped the phone. It hit the floor with a dull thud.
Her head leaned back against the wall, eyes closing just for a second.
Then—a sound.
She shot up, heart pounding.
Footsteps?
No... not footsteps.
Slithering. Wet. Heavy.
She turned to the lighthouse window, peeking through the cracked glass.
Her breath fogged up the pane as she squinted into the darkness. Every crashing wave below sounded louder now. Every gust of wind sharper.
The sea outside looked quiet. No sign of the creature.
Just darkness and the rhythmic motion of the tide, glittering faintly under the moonlight.
She took a slow step forward... and then froze.
Something was missing.
The mermaid's body.
It had jumped into the sea—but now, the water was calm. Empty.
No floating corpse. No blood. Just waves gently crashing against the rocks.
She remembered it clearly—the way it had shrieked and vanished beneath the surface.
She had waited for it to float up. Lifeless. But now, there was nothing.
No trace. As if it had never been there at all.
Her throat tightened. That thing—it might still be out there.
Maybe alive.
Maybe watching.
Her knees nearly gave out, but she forced herself to stay upright.
She had to move. Had to do something.
She opened the lighthouse door and stepped onto the balcony, shivering.
The wind sliced through her wet clothes like knives.
She gripped the rusted railing, her knuckles white.
And then—she saw it.
A light.
Far in the distance—a small, slow-moving boat.
Her breath caught in her chest. A rescue team?
Someone had come.
She waved her arms wildly, screamed from the top of her lungs—even though her throat burned.
"Here! I'm here!"
No response. But the boat kept coming, slow but steady.
A whisper of hope returned.
She could almost see them—shapes moving on the deck.
She screamed again, louder, her voice cracking with desperation.
Then suddenly—a hand on her ankle.
She screamed, nearly tumbling over the railing.
Her mind raced—cold skin, sharp claws, dragging her down—
But it was just seaweed.
Blown by the wind and stuck to her leg.
Her body collapsed to the floor. Shaking. Crying. Laughing.
A strange mix of relief and hysteria poured out of her in choking sobs.
She wasn't safe. Not yet.
Not until that boat reached her.
_____To be continued...