Buster’s howling turned into a series of sharp, distressed barks, urging the children to step back. The air crackled with an unfamiliar energy that set Maya’s heart racing. She dropped the camera, its lifeless lens now half-buried in sand, and pulled her brother closer. A shiver ran down her spine, stronger than the chill of the sudden cold; it was the unmistakable brush of fear.
The creature, now fully revealed, towered over the beach. Its body was a chaotic blend of angles and curves, a grotesque amalgamation of organic and inorganic materials. It seemed to pulse with a rhythm of its own, an alien heartbeat that resonated through the air. The limbs, thin yet powerful, anchored it to the land with unsettling ease, leaving deep impressions in the sand.
Buster retreated further, his instincts screaming danger. Maya could see the whites of his eyes, an unnatural shade of wide-open terror. For the first time, the loyal dog who faced thunder and strangers alike with unwavering courage was petrified, his brave front shattered by the presence of something that shouldn’t exist—not here, not anywhere.
