"The Black Storm"

That night, the sea was calm, as if the sun itself had hidden beyond the horizon, unwilling to disturb its glassy surface. You stood aboard a proud vessel, alive with voices and brimming with faith in the strength of its sails. But without warning, the sky split open with a roar—as though darkness itself had descended upon the waters. The wind howled like a thousand voices in agony, the waves struck as if the ocean had sworn to crush every living soul. Sailors screamed, masts cracked, and the deck became slick with salt foam and blood. No one could understand why the storm had risen here, for only an hour before the sea had been as still as a mirror.

Prayers drowned beneath the fury of the tempest. One by one, men vanished overboard. The ship shattered, swallowed by the abyss, and only the freezing terror in your heart whispered the truth—this storm was no ordinary wrath. It had come for all.

And when everything around you sank into the depths, you felt the sea’s darkness itself watching you.

And the hand that reached for you… was not death’s.