Then maybe a dead seal.

Then something washed up from deeper water.

But now that I was close enough to see the shape properly, none of those explanations made sense.

The sand around it was wet.

Too wet.

Not the ordinary dark strip left behind when a wave retreats.

This looked different.

The water seemed to have stopped around the creature.

As if the tide had come in, reached it—

and moved away.

Carefully.

Deliberately.

I stopped walking.

Something about that disturbed me more than the creature itself.

The ocean does not avoid things.

It covers them.

Moves them.

Breaks them apart.

But around this thing, there was a perfect crescent of untouched sand, almost as though the sea had been pushed backward.

I should have left.

Instead, I moved closer.

That was when I saw its side move.

Once.

Slowly.

I froze.

Then again.

A deep expansion beneath the skin.

A pause.

Then contraction.

My throat tightened.

It was breathing.

Not gasping.

Not struggling.

Breathing.

Slowly.

Calmly.

As if lying half-buried on an empty beach was exactly where it intended to be.

“Oh my God.”

My voice sounded tiny against the water.

The creature didn’t react.

I crouched several feet away.

Its body was longer than I had realized.

Maybe eight feet.

Possibly more.

Part of it disappeared beneath a fold of wet sand.

The surface of its body looked smooth from a distance, but up close it wasn’t skin in any way I understood.

It was almost transparent.

Layered.

Like cloudy glass stacked beneath one another.

Light passed through parts of it.

And underneath—

something moved.

Dark lines.

Thin at first.

Then thicker.

They traveled beneath its body in slow, fluid patterns.

They didn’t look like veins.

They looked like currents.

Like black water flowing under ice.

I leaned closer without meaning to.

The lines changed direction.

All of them.

At once.

Toward me.

I stumbled backward.

The creature’s tail twitched.

Just once.

The tip dragged across the beach.

A black streak appeared behind it.

I stared.

The sand it had touched no longer looked wet.

It didn’t even look like sand.

It looked burned.

Gray.

Powdery.

Ash.

My heart started pounding.

“No.”

I stood.

This was the moment to run.

I knew that.

I could feel every part of my body preparing to turn.

Then I heard the sound.

It came from the ocean.

Far beyond the breaking waves.

Low.

Deep.

Dragging.

At first, I thought it might be a boat engine.

Then the sound grew stronger.

Not louder exactly.

Closer.

It reminded me of something enormous being pulled across stone.

Except there was no stone.

Only miles of water.

I stared toward the horizon.

Nothing.

No ship.

No whale breaking the surface.

No storm.

The sky was almost perfectly clear.

Then the waves changed.

I noticed it gradually.

One rolled toward shore.

Stopped.

Not completely.

But it slowed unnaturally, flattening itself before reaching the creature.

Another followed.

Same thing.

The shoreline seemed to hesitate.

As if the ocean were waiting.

I could hear my own breathing now.

Fast.

Uneven.

The creature’s remained slow.

Calm.

Then its tail moved again.

This time, harder.

Sand sprayed.

The blackened trail grew longer.

I stepped backward.

The creature’s body shifted.

Only a few inches.

But enough for me to see something beneath it.

Marks.

Lines carved into the sand.

At first I assumed the tail had made them.

Then I realized there were too many.

Perfect curves.

Connected shapes.

Almost like symbols.

Some disappeared beneath its body.

Others stretched toward the water.

One stretched toward me.

I stopped.

My shoe was resting directly on the final line.

I lifted my foot.

The line continued underneath.

It had already been there.

Before I approached.

My stomach tightened.

I looked back toward the creature.

Its tail moved.

Slowly.

Not thrashing.

Not searching.

Pointing.

I followed the direction.

Straight toward my chest.

“No.”

I stepped left.

The tail moved left.

I stepped right.

It followed.

Cold spread through me.

It wasn’t pointing toward the dunes.

Or the road.

Or something behind me.

It was pointing at me.

The dark currents beneath its transparent skin began moving faster.

The creature took another breath.

Deeper this time.

Its entire body expanded.

The sound from offshore answered.

A long vibration rolled through the water.

I felt it through the soles of my shoes.

Then my phone buzzed.

I nearly screamed.

I pulled it out.

No call.

No message.

Just an emergency alert.

Except the screen was blank beneath the notification banner.

No weather warning.

No evacuation notice.

Nothing.

Only one line of text.

MOVE AWAY FROM THE WATER.

My blood went cold.

I looked up.

The ocean had pulled back.

Not like an ordinary tide.

Hundreds of feet of seabed were suddenly exposed.

Fish flopped in the distance.

Dark rocks appeared where water had been seconds earlier.

And beyond them—

something moved.

Far out.

Much farther than I could clearly see.

A shape rose just beneath the surface.

Huge.

Impossible to measure.

The creature beside me suddenly opened its eyes.

I hadn’t even realized it had eyes.

Three of them.

Thin black slits beneath translucent tissue.

All three focused on me.

I couldn’t move.

Its mouth opened.

There were no teeth.

Only darkness.

And then, somehow, I heard a voice.

Not through my ears.

Inside my head.

One word.

My name.

I staggered backward.

“How do you know that?”

The creature’s tail struck the sand.

Once.

The offshore sound came again.

Closer.

Then the voice returned.

Not my name this time.

A sentence.

Three words.

YOU FOUND ME.

I ran.

I didn’t look back.

I sprinted toward the dunes, nearly falling as the soft sand collapsed beneath my feet.

Behind me came a sound like the entire ocean inhaling.

Then something hit the shoreline.

The ground shook.

I fell to my knees.

My phone flew from my hand.

For several seconds, I stayed there.

Too afraid to turn around.

Then curiosity defeated fear.

I looked.

The creature was gone.

Only the black ash remained where its tail had dragged across the beach.

The ocean had returned to its normal line.

The waves moved naturally again.

Everything looked ordinary.

Almost.

Then I noticed the footprints beside mine.

They began at the water.

Crossed the wet sand.

And stopped directly behind me.

They were not human.

And they had not been there when I ran.