There's a certain darkness that comes with a gray sky; it's the sort that sneaks up on you. You don't expect rainfall, and it's far too late when the chilled ocean breeze caresses you. As the clouds blacken and the droplets fall, you find yourself unprepared for the coming storm, though not yet panicking because the sky will brighten again.
You grab your loved one's hand, steering them over the rattling planks. To the shore, to safety, you run. The rain splatters as ships capsize, and you're far from dry land when the thunder rolls.
Lightning flashes and something enormous snaps. The mainland drifts further. Your dock becomes a raft as it carries you to sea, and you watch your loved one drift away on another piece of the crumbling harbor. Jagged slopes and thick foam drag you from home and you hope you won't lose sight of land because it's wet, and it's dark, and it's cold, and it's cold, and it's cold, and it's cold, and it's cold, and it's cold.
YOU ARE READING
The Second Stage
HorrorA world unseen dies over and over. It shrieks at a pitch that you cannot hear. It rots with a stench that you will never quite know. It isn't a place meant for you and I, it is merely a bank for the dead and dying; a vault of visceral agony. I...
