A novela I wrote, not much to day about it really.
Yet she stepped into the bitter ice and began wading out towards the floating debris of the ghost ship.
Darkness descended and night commenced its brief reign on the earth. The stars blinked into existence and shone distantly through the dense cloud cover and a colossal white orb rose out of the horizon, parting the clouds in its wake as it swiftly moved through the dark sky casting eerie light across the grey sand and haunting shadows along the glistening water. The moon should not have been that big and mesmerising. It was beautiful, yet somehow it was even more oppressive and terrifying than the dismal grey.
The temperature dropped from cold to freezing. The whole change to night was almost instantaneous.
She should have hesitated but she didn’t. She kept wading through the gentile tides of the salty liquid. The water rose up to her neck- she was only about five metres out. She kicked off from the ground and began clumsily dog paddling out towards the wreckage. She had never been much of a swimmer.
She felt something cold and slimy clutch her leg, it didn’t pull her down so she didn’t stop, it let go. The Lost Souls were watching her, waiting for her to fail. She was determined to not let them have her.
A large door that had come out of the explosion almost intact floated towards her. She leapt at it and awkwardly pulled herself onto it. Another piece of debris steadily made its way towards her, it was a long piece of wood; to Kisara it was an ore. She started paddling her makeshift raft and soon she was surrounded by the floating and sinking remains of the great ghost ship and the pale haunting face of the Lost Souls. But there was no sign of Lucas.
“Lucas?!!” she called out but there was no response.
“Lucas?!!!” no response but her own desperate echo.
A dim light was caught in her peripheral vision; she turned and saw a man in white balancing easily on a nearby piece of wreckage. He had one leg dangling over the edge into the freezing depths of the water and the other propped up on the wooden vessel. In one hand he held a fishing rod and he was leaning on the other like he didn’t have a care in the world. He wore a pirate’s uniform, a long coat and large triangular hat that hid his face from her view, but they were all white as was his skin and hair. He was glowing with the same gentile white light at the moon which glistened above watching over them like a sentry on duty. He spoke and his words were like song.
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