Prologue
“From dust we were made”
It was an evening at the coastal lake, near the capital city. The air was chilling and bitter, so cold that each breath exhaled became a mist. Above, the sky loomed dark, covered in thick, opaque clouds that blotted out any trace of sunlight. Thunder rumbled in the distance, followed by sharp claps of lightning that lit the restless waters below. The lake’s surface churned with high turbulence, waves crashing in a relentless rhythm. Each wave struck the jagged edges of the rocks, splitting apart and spraying upwards like rain, cascading back down onto the stones.
The world was growing darker and more foreboding, the thick fog hovering over the lake erasing the horizon. In the distance, a shadowy figure emerged—an outline of a ship. It sailed aimlessly, its course dictated only by the force of the tides. The waters lashed against the ship’s battered hull, the spray falling back like rain on the worn, weather-beaten deck. Its sails were tattered, hanging in rags, flapping weakly in the gusty winds. The ship itself was a wreck, littered with debris and waste, scattered papers swirling across the deck, yet there was no sign of life aboard. The wheel turned on its own, spinning aimlessly, shifting between clockwise and counterclockwise, as the ship drifted closer to a harbor at the lake’s riverbank.
The scene around the ship was disturbingly quiet, the air heavy with a sense of malice. Silence reigned, broken only by the eerie creaking of the ship’s old wooden doors, groaning as they shifted with the sway of the vessel. The wind howled, whirling in sharp gusts that almost seemed to echo a human whistle, their haunting melody carrying far over the lake.
At the harbor, men were hard at work, their laborious efforts paused as they noticed the ship approaching. Confusion spread through the group as they exchanged glances, murmurs of bewilderment rippling through them. They clustered in small groups, voices hushed but persistent, questioning why such a ship would be sailing toward them, especially in such a dismal condition. The chattering grew until the ship finally reached the dock and came to a halt, its presence casting a shadow over the workers. An unsettling stillness settled over the harbor.
Suddenly, a door on the ship’s second deck creaked open. Every conversation stopped, the workers frozen in place, their eyes fixed on the gaping doorway. The tension was thick and menacing as they waited for something—anything—to emerge. But no one came out. The atmosphere grew heavier, dread creeping into the air. The lake’s restless waves fell still, as if the water itself were holding its breath.
In the deafening silence, a new sound emerged from within the ship, a low, guttural snarling, followed by the growl of something unseen. The snarls grew louder, more ferocious, echoing through the stillness. The harbor workers stood transfixed, their eyes wide, unable to look away from the ship, unaware of the danger they were on the verge of witnessing. They waited, hearts pounding, to see what creature lurked within, what horror the ship had brought to their shores.
The harbor was now a graveyard. Blood soaked the ground, mingling with the water that lapped quietly at the dock’s edge. The once-bustling workers lay scattered, their bodies dismembered, torn apart in a scene of unimaginable brutality. Arms and legs were severed, torsos shredded, and some were missing vital parts—hearts ripped from chests, heads torn clean from their bodies. The air was thick with the stench of death.
It was a massacre.
“To dust we shall return…
