Shivers

Revenge Is A Dish Served Cold

In the sleepy coastal town of Windmere, nestled against a backdrop of dark and brooding cliffs, two men stood by the shore, their eyes fixed on the horizon. The waves were unusually calm for the time of year, but the sky above them, a canvas of gunmetal gray, was a harbinger of the storm that was to come.

Charlie Mason, a tall man with a receding hairline and a nervous twitch in his left eye, turned to his accomplice, Bray Masters, who stood there with a smug grin that barely hid the sinister gleam in his eyes.

"Is it done?" Charlie asked, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

"Of course," Bray replied, his tone confident and self-assured. "The trunk is at the bottom of the sea, and our dear wives have joined it."

The two men clinked their beer bottles together and exchanged a look of satisfaction. They had meticulously plotted this plan for months, and now, with their wives out of the picture, they were free to live their lives as they pleased, and their wives' life insurance policies would ensure they did it in style.

As night fell, Charlie and Bray retreated to their rented seaside cottage, a quaint and weathered structure that stood isolated on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The celebration continued, the alcohol flowed freely, and the men reveled in their newfound freedom.

But as the night wore on, a sense of unease began to creep in. The winds had picked up, and the once-calm sea now roiled and churned beneath a storm that had descended upon the coast like a vengeful spirit. A haunting melody of creaking floorboards and the howling wind filled the air, punctuated by the occasional crash of thunder.

"What was that?" Charlie whispered, his eyes wide as he stared at the door, which was rattling in its frame.

"It's just the wind," Bray muttered dismissively, though his voice betrayed a hint of fear.

A sudden, deafening knock at the door startled them both. The men exchanged a panicked glance, their hearts pounding in their chests. As Bray hesitantly approached the door, the knocks grew more insistent, more desperate. He slowly reached for the handle, his hand shaking, and pulled the door open.

There, illuminated by the flickering lightning, was a monstrous figure, an amalgamation of the two women they had so heartlessly disposed of. Legs, arms, and torsos fused together, creating a grotesque, misshapen creature. Their wives' faces, twisted in rage and agony, stared back at them.

"We have returned," the creature hissed, its voice a chilling cacophony of their wives' voices. "The sea has brought us back for vengeance."

Charlie screamed, a primal, guttural sound that echoed through the cottage. Bray tried to slam the door shut, but the creature forced its way in, fueled by an otherworldly rage. The men stumbled back, terror coursing through their veins.

"Please, no!" Charlie cried, tears streaming down his face. "We didn't mean it!"

"But you did," the creature snarled. "You thought you could escape us, but the sea has a long memory."

As the storm raged outside, the creature closed in on Charlie and Bray, its many limbs reaching for them with malicious intent. The men's pleas for mercy were drowned out by the howling winds, their screams lost to the merciless storm.

The next morning, the sun broke through the clouds, casting a golden light over the quiet town of Windmere. The sea had returned to its gentle, placid state, its dark secrets hidden beneath the waves. The storm had passed, but for Charlie Mason and Bray Masters, the nightmare had only just begun.

As the first rays of sunlight touched the deserted cottage, the townspeople, who had heard the desperate screams in the night, cautiously approached the isolated structure. The door hung off its hinges, a testament to the horror that had unfolded within.

Inside, they found Charlie and Bray, huddled together in a corner, their eyes wide with terror, and their once-sinister expressions replaced by abject horror. Their voices were gone, stolen by the night's events, leaving them unable to share their terrifying ordeal.

The grotesque creature, the vengeful amalgamation of their wives, had vanished as mysteriously as it had appeared. Yet, its presence lingered, a constant reminder of the terrible price the men had paid for their selfish desires. The sea had exacted its revenge, and in doing so, had bound Charlie and Bray to a life haunted by the memory of their monstrous creation.

In the days that followed, the two men were taken into custody and questioned relentlessly. Unable to speak, they scribbled down their harrowing tale, only to be met with skepticism and disbelief. Their once-triumphant plot had become their torment, their own personal hell that they could not escape.

As the years went by, the story of the fateful night at the cottage became the stuff of local legend, a cautionary tale whispered by the people of Windmere. And though Charlie and Bray would never find solace, the town never forgot the lesson they had learned: the sea, with its dark and unfathomable depths, held secrets that were best left undisturbed, and those who sought to exploit its mysteries would face a fate far worse than death.