Kael crouched low behind the jagged rocks, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim light as the sun dipped below the horizon. The bloodied seagulls he had collected lay splayed across the stones, their scent mixing with the salt of the sea. He closed his eyes briefly, his senses attuned to his surroundings—the rhythmic crash of waves, the hiss of the breeze, and the faint caws of distant birds. Every detail sharpened as he waited, listening for any sign of the monster he hunted.

  Time passed slowly, the air growing colder as night crept in. Then, suddenly, the sound of footsteps reached his ears, faint but distinct. His nose twitched, catching a scent carried by the wind. It was familiar. Kael’s eyes snapped open, and his expression darkened as recognition set in.

  The woman from the harbormaster’s office, Eleanor, she said her name was.

  His growl rumbled low in his throat as he rose silently to his feet. What was she doing here? This was no place for anyone but him, especially not a civilian. He stepped forward, ready to call out and warn her away, but froze mid-motion.

  She was carrying flowers.

  Her gait was slow, her head bowed slightly, and her expression was somber. The bouquet in her hands trembled as the breeze pushed against her, petals fluttering loose. Kael tilted his head, his sharp eyes studying her movements. There was no hesitation in her steps, no fear or confusion, only a quiet resolve as she approached the rocks.

  Kael narrowed his eyes, lowering himself back into the shadows. His growl subsided, replaced by a pensive silence. He didn’t know what she was doing, but whatever it was, it didn’t belong here. The predator he was hunting could be close, and her presence was dangerous—for her and his mission.

  Still, something in the way she clutched those flowers stayed his voice. Kael watched her approach, conflicted. She had been foolish enough to venture here, but there was a weight in her demeanor that made him pause. The way she carried herself was not reckless or ignorant; it was... deliberate.

  He remained still, waiting, observing, and listening as she drew closer to his trap.

  Kael watched from the shadows, his piercing red eyes fixed on the woman as she reached the rocks. She paused, her fingers gripping the bouquet tightly as if it were the only thing tethering her to this moment. Her head dipped, and she let out a slow, trembling breath before kneeling near the edge where the waves lapped against the stones.

  She placed the flowers gently on the rocks, arranging them carefully despite the breeze threatening to scatter the petals. Her movements were deliberate, almost reverent as if she were performing a sacred ritual.

  “This is where it happened,” Kael muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the crashing waves. His sharp mind pieced it together—the grief etched on her face, the trembling hands, the flowers. This was no random act of foolishness; this was a grave. Her brothers if he recalled correctly.

  The woman spoke softly, her voice carried on the wind. Her tone was unmistakably a mixture of sorrow and longing. She stayed there for several minutes, her hands resting on the cold stone as if she were trying to touch a memory.

  Kael’s jaw tightened as he continued to observe. He had seen countless acts of mourning in his long life—shrines to the lost, tears shed over empty graves—but this felt different. The air around her was heavy with loss, a weight that even he could sense.

  As she lingered, Kael’s thoughts turned practical. The creature he hunted could be watching her right now, drawn by the same blood he’d laid out as bait. Her presence was an unnecessary risk, yet he hesitated to intervene. Something about her quiet grief, the way she knelt with her head bowed, reminded him of moments he had long buried.

  “Damn it,” Kael muttered under his breath.

  He stepped out from the shadows, his boots crunching softly against the gravel. The sound startled her, and she turned her head sharply, her green eyes widening as they met his glowing red ones. Fear flickered across her face for a moment before recognition softened her expression.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Kael said, his voice low and firm. He kept his distance, his towering form silhouetted against the darkening sky.

  She rose to her feet, brushing strands of hair from her face, but didn’t step back. “I had to come,” she said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.

  Kael’s gaze flicked to the flowers, then back to her. “You’re putting yourself in danger. Whatever took your brother is still out there.”

  “I know,” she replied quietly, her grip tightening on her skirt. “But I had to, I say a prayer for him every night.”

  Her courage surprised him, though he didn’t show it. Instead, he simply nodded. “You’ve said it. Now go.”

  She hesitated, her eyes searching his face as if looking for something, but Kael didn’t give her the chance to linger. He stepped closer, his presence a looming shadow. “Go back to the village. Leave this to me.”

  She swallowed hard, then nodded, retreating slowly. As she disappeared down the path, Kael turned his attention back to the sea. The flowers remained on the rocks, their bright colors stark against the gray stones, a small defiance against the encroaching night.

  Kael stood still for a moment, his thoughts unexpectedly heavy. Then he growled, shaking his head. He had no time for sentiment. Turning back to the bloodied bait, he crouched low once more, ready to finish what he’d started. The water stirred, as the creature emerged from the sea. An Angler.

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  The Angler is a grotesque, amphibious creature with a gaunt, skeletal frame wrapped in sinewy, pale-gray flesh that glistens with seawater. Its large, bulbous eyes glow faintly, adapted to the dark depths of the ocean, giving it a hauntingly eerie appearance. Jagged fins protrude from its arms and back, while its hands end in long, claw-like fingers designed for tearing apart carrion. The creature's most notable feature is its wide, fang-filled maw, dripping with brine and reeking of decay, making it a nightmare born of the sea.

  Anglers are known scavengers, rarely venturing far from the safety of deep, isolated waters. Easily frightened and non-confrontational, they typically avoid humans or other large creatures, relying on scraps and carcasses for sustenance. For one to stray this close to an inhabited island is a rarity—likely the result of desperation, starvation, or madness. Such conditions can drive even the most passive of monsters to act uncharacteristically aggressive, as hunger and fear overwhelm their instincts.

  Kael crouched low, muscles coiled, his crimson eyes fixed on the approaching Angler. The bait he’d laid out—bloodied seagulls—had drawn the beast from the water’s edge. Its clawed hands skittered across the rocks, sniffing and growling as it crept closer, the sinking sun casting long shadows over its grotesque form.

  When it was close enough, Kael sprang into action. His longsword hissed as he drew it from its sheath, the blade catching the fading light. With a single, fluid motion, he leaped from his hiding spot and struck. The Angler let out a guttural snarl, its claws slashing wildly as it reeled back. Kael's blade found its mark, slicing across the creature's midsection, spilling dark, viscous blood onto the rocks.

  The Angler screeched in pain, its glowing eyes darting toward the safety of the water. It turned to flee, but Kael was faster. He lunged forward, tackling the creature just as it reached the edge. The two tumbled into the churning sea, the icy water shocking Kael's senses but doing little to slow his resolve.

  Underwater, the Angler thrashed violently, its claws raking against Kael’s armor, but the Ashen warrior held firm. Wrestling the creature into submission, Kael reached for the short sword strapped to his waist. With a powerful thrust, he drove the blade into the Angler's chest once, twice, three times. The beast let out a gurgling cry, its struggles weakening as black blood clouded the water around them.

  Finally, the Angler went still, its body sinking limply beneath the waves. Kael surfaced, gasping for air, his grip still firm on the hilt of his short sword. He hauled himself back onto the rocks, dripping wet but victorious. Looking down at the lifeless creature, he muttered, “Desperation makes fools of even monsters.”

  Kael made his way toward the Angler’s floating body, its lifeless form bobbing gently on the waves as the blood from its wounds stained the water crimson. He reached for his knife, intending to take the creature’s head as proof of the kill. But as his hand extended, something moved beneath the surface—fast, predatory, and deliberate.

  Before he could react, a slick, dark tentacle shot out of the water, coiling around the Angler’s corpse. The appendage yanked the body downward with terrifying strength, dragging it into the shadowy depths. Kael froze, stunned by the suddenness of the attack. His red eyes scanned the water, but all he could see was the rippling surface and the faint, fading trail of bubbles.

  The faintest movement brushed against his boot, and a chill crept up his spine. He looked down just in time to see another tentacle, slimy and dark, slithering around his leg. The rough suction of the appendage latched tightly onto him. Before he could reach for his blade, the creature yanked hard, and Kael was violently pulled into the water.

  His sword was torn from his grasp, clanking against the rocks as Kael struggled against the sudden pull. The icy water engulfed him, its bitter cold stabbing at his skin as he was dragged deeper and deeper. The crushing pressure began to build, pressing down on his chest. His enhanced body could endure far more than any normal human, but even he felt the strain of the depths.

  Twisting against the creature’s hold, Kael reached down toward his trapped leg. His claws, sharp and deadly, gleamed faintly in the dim light filtering through the water. With quick, precise movements, he raked them across the tentacle. The rubbery flesh tore under his strikes, and a dark, murky fluid seeped into the water. The appendage recoiled, releasing its grip on him with a violent twitch.

  Kael wasted no time. He kicked hard, propelling himself upward through the cold, suffocating water. His muscles burnedd with effort as he swam toward the surface, the faint shimmer of moonlight his only beacon.

  He risked a glance over his shoulder, and his heart sank. A dark shape surged through the water with unnatural speed, its sleek form cutting through the depths like a predator closing in on its prey. Tentacles writhed around it, propelling the creature forward with terrifying grace. Kael swam harder, but he knew he couldn’t outpace it—not here, in its domain.

  The beast reached him before he could react, its tentacles coiling around his torso, arms, and legs with relentless force. Kael thrashed against its hold, but it was like fighting the ocean itself. The creature’s grip was ironclad, pulling him closer until he could finally see its form.

  Facing the creature, Kael’s eyes were immediately drawn to the unmistakable outline of a feminine humanoid torso. Her form was hauntingly beautiful yet utterly alien. The slick, almost translucent bluish skin shimmered faintly in the dim light filtering through the water. Her chest rose and fell with unnatural grace, two rounded breast, the darker blue of her nipples contrasting sharply against her pallid flesh. It was a cruel mockery of human anatomy, designed perhaps to disarm prey with its grotesque allure.

  Kael’s gaze shifted upward, and his stomach turned as he took in the rest of her. A long, slender neck led to a rounded face that was both serene and horrifying. Her black, soulless eyes glared at him with a hatred that burned deeper than any fire. Thick, writhing tentacles sprouted from her head where hair should have been, moving independently as if they had a will of their own. Her features were contorted in a mask of rage, her thin lips pulled back to reveal rows of needle-like teeth.

  Before Kael could react, the creature lunged at him. Her clawed hands, sharp as daggers, slashed downward in a flurry of vicious strikes. The claws screeched against the metal of his armor, leaving deep gouges in the hardened steel. But where her claws found unprotected flesh—his arms, sides, and legs—they sliced clean through, leaving trails of burning pain as blood mixed with the cold seawater.

  Kael gritted his teeth against the agony, his mind racing as he struggled against her suffocating grip. With sheer force of will, he twisted his body, managing to free one arm from the binding tentacles. His claws extended, gleaming with lethal intent as he swung them upward in a desperate, savage strike.

  The attack connected, raking across the creature’s face with a sickening tearing sound. Dark blue ichor seeped from the deep wounds carved into her skin, staining the water around them. The creature shrieked, a high-pitched, bone-chilling sound that reverberated through the water like the wail of a banshee. Her tentacles loosened their grip, flailing wildly as she retreated, clutching at her wounded face.

  Kael wasted no time. His chest burned with the need for air, his lungs screaming for relief as he kicked off from the depths. He swam with every ounce of strength he had left, his vision narrowing as the shimmering surface above seemed agonizingly far away. Behind him, the creature’s haunting cries echoed, but he didn’t dare look back.

  The promise of air drove him onward, his battered body pushing against the crushing weight of the ocean as he clawed his way toward the surface.

  Kael broke through the surface with a desperate gasp, his lungs greedily drawing in the cold, salty air. Water streamed down his face as he sputtered and coughed, the taste of the sea clinging to his tongue. His feet finally found purchase on the rocky seabed, and he stumbled forward, dragging his battered and soaked body toward the shore. Each step felt like a monumental effort, his muscles screaming in protest, his cuts stinging with saltwater.

  As he reached the shallows, he collapsed to his knees, the waves lapping against him like they sought to pull him back. He forced himself upright, half-stumbling, half-crawling toward the sandy beach, his breath coming in ragged bursts.

  Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows of the treeline. His instincts flared, and his hand reflexively reached for the weapon he no longer had, but as she drew closer, he recognized her immediately.

  "Ashen!" Eleanor called out, her voice tinged with panic and relief. She rushed toward him, her bare feet kicking up sand, and without hesitation, knelt beside him. Her hands reached out, steadying him as his body swayed from exhaustion.

  "You’re hurt," she said, her voice soft but urgent as her eyes darted over the gashes across his arms and sides, now oozing blood so dark it might as well have been tar.

  Kael shook his head slightly, his lips curling into a faint snarl as he tried to push her away. "I don’t need your help, I'll heal," he muttered through gritted teeth, though his voice lacked its usual edge.

  She ignored him, slipping an arm around his shoulders to help him stand. "Don’t be stubborn." she said, her tone firm yet oddly soothing.

  Kael grimaced but didn’t resist further, allowing her to guide him out of the water. Her presence was steady, her touch gentle despite the urgency in her movements. As they reached the beach, she eased him down onto the sand, her green eyes scanning his injuries once more.

  Kael’s red eyes met hers briefly, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before he looked away. His gaze drifted toward the dark sea behind him, where faint ripples marked the creature’s retreat.