Later, when she lay curled against his chest, her breathing steady and warm, Jude looked out through the open window.
And there, beyond the trees, he saw her.
Rose.
Standing half in shadow.
Naked. Dripping. Still.
Her black eyes t his, and she smiled softly - not cruelly this ti. Not like the others.
Like her.
And then she vanished into the dark.
He didn’t wake Lucy. He just lay there, holding her tighter, wondering if that smile had been a warning.
Or a goodbye.
Jude didn’t sleep again that night. Even as Lucy’s breathing remained soft against his chest, his eyes stayed locked on the tree line, watching for any flicker of movent, any sign that Rose might still be there. But the jungle had swallowed her whole once again, leaving nothing but the mory of her black eyes and that strange, sad smile behind. When morning finally ca, it was veiled in a thick mist that made the trees appear like ghosts, tall and wavering. No birds sang. No breeze stirred the branches. The silence was a weight that settled over the entire camp.
Downstairs, the others were already moving quietly. Sophie and Zoey were sharpening weapons. Emma stirred sothing over the fire while Natalie helped Grace braid thick cords of vine to reinforce the barricades around the lower path. No one spoke much. They didn’t have to. There was an understanding among them now - a wariness that threaded through every glance and quiet breath. They had all seen sothing that couldn’t be explained, and even though the camp felt secure, they knew it wasn’t. Not really.
Lucy ca down shortly after Jude, dressed in a dark shirt that clung to her curves and made his pulse jump despite the tension that never left his chest. She kissed his cheek softly and sat beside him, her thigh brushing his. "You saw her last night," she said, not as a question, but a quiet fact.
He nodded.
Lucy’s gaze was steady, clear. "What did she look like?"
"Sa as always," he said. "But... softer. Less like them."
Lucy tilted her head. "You think she’s different?"
"I don’t know," Jude admitted. "She didn’t try to co closer. Just stood there. Watching."
"Maybe she was trying to rember us," Lucy whispered, her voice thick with sothing between hope and sorrow.
Jude didn’t reply.
Zoey approached, her blade sheathed at her side, sweat already shining on her collarbone. "There’s movent near the beach," she said. "I didn’t get close. Too exposed. But I counted at least eight of them. All standing still. Like statues."
Sophie joined them. "If they’re gathering, it ans they’re waiting for sothing."
"What?" Natalie asked, coming over with Emma.
"An invitation," Lucy said before anyone else could respond.
They all turned to her.
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her tone low and cautious. "Rose told sothing when she tried to convert . She said the others ca willingly, that they chose the island’s truth. But she also said the island never forces anyone. It just shows... possibilities. We have to choose to walk toward it."
Sophie frowned. "That’s comforting."
Emma looked out toward the mist. "And if we don’t choose?"
"We stay," Jude said. "We keep what we are. Ourselves."
"Then maybe that’s what they’re waiting for," Zoey muttered. "For one of us to slip."
Grace appeared, rubbing her eyes. "I keep dreaming about the tree again. But it’s not burning anymore. It’s growing. Underwater."
Natalie turned slowly toward her. "What do you an underwater?"
"I don’t know," she whispered. "It’s roots... they move like eels. Black. Slithering."
Jude stood. "We need to see the beach for ourselves."
Sophie nodded. "We’ll all go. Together."
The journey was cautious, silent. Even with blades in their hands and fire in their hearts, the jungle felt too quiet, like the world was holding its breath. The mist stayed low to the ground, hiding their feet as they walked. It felt like walking through another plane of existence. The trees above were blurred, and the sound of the ocean reached them in slow, muffled waves.
And then they saw them.
On the sand, perfectly spaced, nine won stood facing the sea.
None of them moved. None of them turned.
Their bodies were coated in a thin sheen of dark oil, dripping from their hair, their skin, even their fingertips. Their eyes - black, glassy voids - stared out toward the endless blue, unblinking.
Rose was not among them.
"They’re waiting," Emma whispered.
"For what?" Zoey murmured.
"For us," Lucy said softly.
As if in answer, one of the won turned.
Not quickly.
Not nacingly.
Just... turned.
Her eyes locked with Jude’s.
And she smiled.
Not eerie. Not evil.
Inviting.
Another turned. Then another. And soon, all nine were facing the group. Their smiles mirrored one another, soft and strangely beautiful. Like sirens without song.
Then, at the farthest end of the line, one more woman erged.
Rose.
She stepped onto the sand barefoot, her skin clean, her hair slicked back, gleaming like obsidian. She wore a dress made of palm leaves and vines, flowing gently in the breeze. Her eyes were still black, but her expression was entirely Rose. The woman they loved. The woman they lost.
Jude stepped forward instinctively. Lucy grabbed his hand, but didn’t stop him.
Rose raised her hand in a slow, deliberate wave.
No words.
No beckoning.
Just a look.
Jude’s heart thundered in his chest.
And then she turned her back, joining the others, staring out at the ocean again.
The group stood there for minutes. No one spoke. No one moved.
Then Sophie exhaled slowly. "We leave."
They turned back toward the forest, Rose and the others still unmoving behind them.
Back at camp, the unease had grown. Grace was fidgeting. Stella refused to eat. Susan kept scratching at her arm until it bled. The air felt heavy with expectation, and no one knew how to relieve it.
Until nightfall.
That’s when Rose ca again.
Not with the others.
Not as a shadow.
Alone.
Reviews
All reviews (0)