Reilherd Rees sat confidently in the leather chair across from the governor's desk, his legs crossed and his expression calm, if slightly impatient. The governor, a stern man with graying temples and lines of stress etched across his face, leaned forward.
"Mr. Rees, thank you for coming," the governor began.
"You didn't really give me a choice," Rees replied dryly. "Let's make this quick. I'm a busy man, as you already know. So, why am I here?"
The governor sighed and tapped his fingers on the desk. "We need your expertise for a highly classified mission. There's been a... situation near the Bermuda Triangle."
Rees raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. Another group vanished into thin air?"
"Exactly," the governor nodded gravely. "Everyone we've sent to investigate has disappeared. No survivors. No signals. It's like something swallows them whole. We believe a dark entity may be involved. We want you to uncover the truth—and stop whatever it is."
Rees leaned back, considering. "Sounds like a death wish wrapped in mystery. I'll take it for $750,000."
The governor flinched slightly. "How about $600,000?"
Rees smirked. "I'm already going easy on you. I've charged double for simpler jobs. This one? You're lucky I'm intrigued. And just so we're clear—I don't bargain."
The governor paused, then nodded slowly. "Very well. You'll get the full amount. We'll transfer half of it now as your advance."
"Perfect," Rees said, standing up. He straightened his coat, his voice cool and collected. "Once I receive the payment, I'll begin immediately. You'll have your answers. Just don't expect them to be pleasant."
The governor stood as well, extending a hand. "Good luck, Rees. You're our best shot."
Rees shook it with a firm grip. "Luck is for amateurs. I rely on skill."
With that, Rees turned and walked out of the office, already mentally preparing for what lay ahead. The Bermuda Triangle had swallowed many, but it hadn't met Reilherd Rees—yet.
The following morning, the sun barely above the horizon, Reilherd Rees stood on the deck of a sleek, black boat, double-checking the gear. The ocean stretched endlessly in front of him—silent, cold, and mysterious. Standing beside him was Avern, a young navigator with a sharp tongue and sharper instincts.
Rees looked over at her. "So, it's just the two of us heading into the Bermuda Triangle."
Avern crossed her arms and gave him a skeptical look. "Doesn't sound like the brightest idea—me, alone on a boat with a grown-ass man."
Rees smirked. "I get it. But don't let the beard fool you, I'm only twenty-five."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. You look thirty-five."
Rees shrugged. "Blame the job."
With a shared grunt of acceptance, they started the engine, the boat humming to life beneath their feet. As the vessel pulled away from the docks, the mainland slowly disappeared behind them, swallowed by a blanket of early morning mist.
Rees leaned against the railing and glanced at Avern. "You said you were good at navigation, right?"
Avern, hands on the wheel, nodded without looking at him. "Yeah. So?"
"Alright then, navigator," Rees said, testing her. "Tell me—what's the nearest island from here?"
She glanced over her shoulder at him with a smug grin. "There aren't any nearby islands. Aside from the mainland, every landmass is several thousand meters away. We're heading into open water now."
Rees raised a brow. "How do you know that so confidently?"
Avern tapped the side of her head. "I've studied the world map since I was ten. Some girls liked dolls. I liked plotting coordinates."
Rees chuckled. "Well, I guess I picked the right navigator."
"Damn right you did," she muttered, adjusting the compass slightly as the wind picked up. The water shimmered beneath the morning light, deceptively peaceful.
As they ventured farther into the Atlantic, an eerie stillness began to settle around them. The boat cut through the water smoothly, but something in the air shifted. The sky turned slightly overcast, casting a grayish hue over the ocean surface. Rees felt it—something intangible. The kind of feeling you couldn't explain, only recognize. A warning in your bones.
"You feel that?" he asked.
Avern nodded, her brow furrowed. "Yeah… like the sea just went quiet on purpose."
Rees scanned the horizon. "Keep your eyes peeled. We're getting closer."
They continued deeper into the zone no one dared to approach—where ships disappeared without a trace, and radios went silent. But Reilherd Rees wasn't just anyone. And he wasn't here to run.
He was here to uncover what no one else could.
A few days had passed since Rees and Avern set out on their journey. The ocean had been relatively calm, the skies mostly clear, and the trip smooth. But as they drew closer—just a few hours away from the Bermuda Triangle—everything began to change.
The winds picked up sharply, slicing through the air with an unnatural force. The once gentle waves turned aggressive, slamming against the hull of the boat with increasing fury. Clouds started gathering above them, swirling into a dark, churning mass.
Rees stood at the bow, gripping the railing tightly. "I think we need to stop here," he said, voice raised over the roar of the wind. "The winds are getting too strong. If we push forward, we'll capsize."
Avern struggled to keep her balance, her eyes darting across the sky. "I don't get it! There's no storm on the radar—none! So how the hell are these winds this strong? If it keeps getting worse, we'll die before we get there!"
Rees turned to her, expression serious. "Then I'll go alone. You stay on the boat."
Avern stared at him like he was insane. "What? Are you serious? Do you even know how to swim?"
"This isn't the time for jokes," he replied, already stripping off his heavier gear and preparing for a dive. His mind was made up—he had to find the truth, even if it meant risking his life.
Just as he took a step toward the edge, Avern's voice cracked through the wind. "W–what… is that coming toward us?"
Rees froze and followed her gaze.
Something was emerging from the distant horizon, moving fast—unnaturally fast. It wasn't a wave or a ship. It was a colossal, swirling mass of black, darker than any storm cloud. Its edges twisted and pulsed like smoke and shadow, but with purpose. It wasn't just weather—it was something else.
Rees's face went pale. His jaw tightened as he stepped back from the edge. "That… that's not natural," he muttered.
Avern's voice was trembling now. "What is that? It's like a living shadow. And… is that what's causing the winds?!"
The boat rocked violently, nearly tossing them off their feet. The winds screamed louder, almost like a voice carried in the air—feral, furious, ancient.
Rees stared into the darkness, heart pounding. Whatever it was, it wasn't just a storm. It was the reason no one ever came back.
And now, it was coming for them.
Laughter echoed through the early morning air as a young girl stood at the doorway of her home, waving enthusiastically. "Bye, Dad! Bye, Mom! See you later! Don't forget to bring me something, okay?"
Her mother leaned down with a warm smile, brushing a strand of hair from the girl's cheek. "We'll bring something very special just for you, sweetheart."
Her father chuckled and ruffled her hair. "Don't get into trouble while we're gone. If you act up, Grandma might just give you a good whack."
"Don't scare her," the elderly woman replied with a mock glare. "I never laid a hand on her—and I never will."
The girl giggled, holding her grandma's hand tightly as she watched her parents disappear down the street, bags in hand. They boarded the ship with other families, mostly filled with children and teachers chattering about the school-organized trip. The air buzzed with excitement, the scent of ocean salt drifting in as the vessel began its journey into open waters.
No one aboard could've predicted the tragedy that was about to unfold.
At the time, no one had heard of the Bermuda Triangle. To them, it was just another sea route, just another trip. The sun shone bright, the children played on deck, and parents snapped photographs, capturing fleeting moments of joy. But joy turned to terror far too quickly.
Days into the voyage, the skies shifted. Clouds rolled in like a silent warning, darkening with unnatural speed. The winds picked up, roaring across the ship's hull. Then came the storm—massive, furious, and unforgiving. Waves towered like mountains. The ship creaked, groaned, and splintered under the pressure. Screams pierced through the howling wind. The sea showed no mercy.
a dark cloud appeared out of the storm. the cloud was the one who caused this. it started looking at everyone's face before killing them but it was not satisfied as the person it was finding was not there. in anger the entity screamed "i want!"
Children and adults alike were thrown into the ocean's icy grip. The water was cold—unnaturally cold—chilling their bones before pulling them beneath the surface. The ship vanished, torn apart by something no one could explain. There were no survivors.
The world was stunned. News broke rapidly: a ship carrying innocent families had disappeared without a trace. Panic spread. Search and rescue teams from around the globe were dispatched. Jets, helicopters, naval fleets—all sent to scour the ocean where the ship was last seen. But none returned.
Not a single one.
The region was soon marked with a new name—The Bermuda Triangle. The victims of that first ship were remembered as the beginning of its dark legend.
Back home, the little girl sat still, numb and trembling. She stared at the front door, waiting for laughter that would never return. Her parents' voices were gone. Their promises lost at sea. Her heart shattered. She didn't cry at first. She just waited, unwilling to believe they were truly gone. But when she finally understood, when the silence became unbearable, the tears wouldn't stop. Her world had changed forever.
From that day forward, the spark in her eyes turned to something else—determination.
She refused to live in ignorance. While others whispered about curses and monsters, she devoured books on navigation, oceanography, and survival. She gave up everything—her studies, her childhood—pouring herself into one singular goal: uncover the truth.
She was no longer just a girl. She was a survivor, even if she hadn't been on the ship. Her survival came with a burden—one she bore every time she closed her eyes and saw her parents waving goodbye.
Years later, when Rees approached her with an offer to help navigate a mission into the Triangle, she didn't hesitate. It wasn't about money. It never had been. Her acceptance had nothing to do with the paycheck and everything to do with the mission.
This was her chance. Not for revenge—but for understanding. For closure. For the countless voices swallowed by the sea that day.
"I'm going," she had said, her voice steady. "Not for you. Not for the government. For them."
And so she boarded the boat with Rees, carrying not just her knowledge—but the weight of an entire tragedy.
Avern was no ordinary navigator. She was a daughter chasing ghosts across the ocean, with a compass in her hand and the past in her heart.
A black vortex of clouds churned above the broken sea, swirling with unnatural fury. The dark entity loomed like a phantom in the sky, its form shifting between shadow and storm, its voice booming with ancient hatred.
"As you serve no purpose to me… then suffer!"
A crack of thunder tore the sky apart, and bolts of seething black lightning rained down onto the small boat. Wood splintered. Fire erupted from the impact. The vessel groaned and rocked violently, half-engulfed in the chaotic storm.
Rees struggled to keep his footing, shielding his eyes from the blinding flashes. "Avern!" he shouted above the howling wind. "Run! You have to get out of here or it'll kill you! I called my backup team—they're on their way!"
Avern clung to a rail, soaked, bloodied from the wreckage. Her voice trembled, not with fear, but with resolve. "Rees… one of us is going to die today. We both know it. If we try to run together, that thing will take us both. Someone needs to stay and distract it. The other has to escape."
Rees' face contorted with frustration and disbelief. "Are you out of your damn mind? No one's staying back! We're getting out of here—together!"
But Avern's eyes had already accepted what Rees refused to. "You're more important than me, Rees. The world needs you. You can still stop this thing. My dream was just to uncover the truth. And I did. I found it. That's enough."
Rees stepped toward her, desperate. "You said your dream was to kill it. To avenge your parents."
"I did," she whispered, her voice quiet against the roaring chaos. "But now I understand. I can't kill it. It's too strong. But you might, someday. That's the only hope left."
Tears welled in Rees' eyes as she gave him a sad smile—the kind of smile that accepted death long before it arrived. "Go. Please. I'm coming to you, Mom. Dad."
Something inside Rees shattered. For a second, he froze. But Avern's eyes said everything. He had no choice. Clenching his jaw, he turned and leapt from the burning wreckage into the cold, angry sea. His arms cut through the water with frantic speed. Every stroke was a scream in his head: Not her. Not like this. Not alone.
Behind him, Avern stood tall on the deck, the wind ripping through her hair, blade in hand. The shadow above twisted and surged as if amused by her defiance.
"You humans," it snarled, its voice no longer thunder but something colder. Crueler. "You pretend it is sacrifice. You dress it as courage. But it is nothing but despair. You are always so ready… to leave one another behind."
Avern gritted her teeth and raised the blade. "No. He didn't leave me. I made a choice."
The entity roared and fired a volley of black lightning directly at the ship. Avern darted across the deck, leaping over shattered beams and debris, trying to dodge the blasts. The blade in her hand was small, a mere human thing against a cosmic force—but it was all she had.
She slashed at the air as if she could wound the storm itself, screaming as she charged forward. "You don't get to win! You don't get to mock what you'll never understand!"
But the entity's power was overwhelming. One bolt struck near her, hurling her back onto the broken mast. Blood trickled from her forehead, and the blade clattered from her hand. She looked up at the swirling mass, breathing heavily, her strength fading.
Yet still, she smiled. Because even as she lay broken, she had given Rees a chance. A chance to fight another day. A chance to bring this evil down.
Rees looked back once as he swam. Just once. He saw her standing in the face of death, weapon raised, challenging the impossible. And he felt the burn of helplessness sear into his chest. He whispered under his breath, "Just hold on, Avern. Just a little longer."
He prayed his team would arrive in time. That the backup would pierce through the sky and descend like angels. But as the storm deepened and the ocean roared, all he could do was swim—and hope.
Back on the deck, the entity descended lower, its massive form stretching across the sky like the shadow of doom itself. Avern coughed blood, crawled forward, and reached again for her blade.
Even as the darkness closed in, her spirit refused to break.
Just minutes after Rees dove into the sea, the roar of rotors cut through the howling wind. A sleek black helicopter descended from the clouds, hovering above the churning waves. A rope was lowered, and Rees, soaked and gasping, was pulled aboard by his backup team.
"Rees!" one of the team members shouted over the roar of the engine. "We've got you! Let's get out of here—we won't survive if we stay!"
But Rees pushed past him, eyes wild with desperation. "No! I'm not leaving Avern behind! She stayed so I could live. I'm not letting that be for nothing!"
"Sir," another team member said, glancing nervously through the window, "the entity… it's still out there."
And then, in an instant, it wasn't.
The swirling darkness that had cloaked the sky vanished like smoke on the wind. One blink—and it was simply gone. The storm settled into a haunting calm. The ocean, once raging, now lay eerily still.
"What the hell…?" the pilot muttered, staring out at the clear sky where doom had just hovered moments ago.
Rees's heart pounded. "It's gone," he said hoarsely. "Take us back. Take us to the ship!"
The helicopter curved and descended toward the wreckage, the remains of the boat splintered across the water like shattered bones. As they landed on the floating debris, Rees jumped out and ran across the ruined deck, calling her name even though he feared the silence.
And then he saw her.
Avern's body was barely recognizable. Her forehead was gone, her skull cracked open—her brain, exposed and shattered. Her lower body was charred black, burnt away to the waist. Her arms twisted at unnatural angles, her hands clenched around nothing. Worst of all—her chest. Her heart had been torn from it. A gaping cavity, bloodless and hollow. As if the entity had taken not just her life, but her very soul.
Rees dropped to his knees, trembling.
"A-Avern…" he whispered, voice breaking. He touched her ruined hand gently. "Why did you do this? You didn't deserve this. You should've lived… I should've stayed…"
Tears fell freely down his face. "What did it do to you?"
A hand rested gently on his shoulder.
"She's with her parents now," his teammate said quietly. "She found her peace, Rees."
Rees sat still for a moment, then slowly lifted her broken body into his arms. What remained of her head rested against his shoulder, her dark hair tangled and soaked in blood.
He said nothing more.
The team helped him back into the helicopter. As they rose into the sky, carrying her body with them, a heavy silence filled the cabin.
She had found the truth. She had faced the darkness.
And now, she was gone.