Ocean Kisses

Drowning

keralis pov

I woke up with a heavy feeling in my chest, a gnawing sense of unease I couldn’t shake. Something was off, though I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. The morning light filtered through my curtains, and I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling and trying to dismiss the knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach. It was probably nothing, I told myself. Just one of those days.

After dragging myself out of bed, I went through the usual motions—checking the store to make sure everything was in order. The cash register balanced, the shelves were undisturbed, and the doors had stayed locked overnight. Still, the uneasy feeling persisted.

Midway through my second cup of coffee, my phone buzzed on the counter. It was a text from Beef:

"Hey, you up for another dive today? That monument’s been on my mind. Thought we’d check it out again."

I stared at the message for a moment before typing back:

"Yeah, sure. Let me grab my gear."

Maybe that’s what was bothering me—the monument. Something about it had been haunting me ever since we first explored it. The strange heartbeat I kept hearing, XB’s sudden interest in it, and the nagging thought that something else might be down there.

I packed my gear carefully, double-checking that everything was in working order: oxygen tanks, wetsuit, fins, dive knife. By the time I finished, I felt a little better. Action always seemed to help, even if it was just preparing for something as routine as scuba diving.

Beef’s fishing boat was docked where it always was, bobbing gently on the waves. He was already there, fiddling with the engine and a few pieces of equipment. The sun was shining, and the salty breeze carried the distant calls of seagulls. A few other boats were scattered along the horizon, their motors humming faintly.

“Morning, Keralis!” Beef greeted me as I approached.

“Morning,” I replied, trying to sound more cheerful than I felt. “You really can’t get enough of this monument, huh?”

He grinned, tossing me a life jacket. “There’s just something about it. It’s like it’s calling us back, you know?”

I didn’t respond, just climbed aboard and started stowing my gear. As we pushed off from the dock, the hum of the boat’s engine drowned out most other sounds, but I could still hear the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull.

The bad feeling hadn’t left me—it had only grown stronger. But I kept it to myself. Whatever was going on, I figured we’d find out soon enough.

We loaded up the fishing boat methodically, ensuring everything was in place for what we anticipated to be a long day. Snacks were packed into a cooler—sandwiches, chips, and a couple of bottles of water—while our gear was carefully stowed. Oxygen tanks were double-checked, fully loaded and ready. The ironic addition of fishing supplies didn’t escape me, considering our primary goal wasn’t exactly casting lines today. Still, Beef liked to keep his options open.

A smaller inflatable boat was strapped to the deck, ready for deployment once we anchored the main vessel. It wasn’t unusual for us to use it when the larger boat couldn’t navigate closer to where we wanted to explore.

As we motored away from the dock, the waves slapped gently against the hull, and the scent of salt and seaweed filled the air. The distant cries of gulls echoed over the open water, mingling with the low hum of the boat’s engine. Beef was steering, his usual relaxed grin in place as he casually threw out questions.

“So,” he began, glancing over his shoulder, “that ‘heartbeat of the ocean’ you keep going on about—can you still hear it?”

I leaned back against the railing, the wind ruffling my hair as I thought about how to answer.