text: The night sky lit up momentarily as lightning leapt again through the heavens, reflecting on the still, mirror-like sea. Moments later there followed a low rumble of thunder, disturbing the otherwise serene beauty of the landscape. “It’s getting closer”, he thought, as the distant lightning flashed its tendrils across the midnight sky, leaving him once again plunged into darkness. Sighing, he pulled himself further up the piece of wood and out of the chilling, black water. He gazed up at the stars, barely glimmering above him, and then looked over towards the looming storm. He pulled his long brown cloak tighter about him, hoping its fabric, though sodden, might offer some warmth. But it was no good: the water had chilled him deeper than his bones, seemingly to his very soul. He thought back to that moment: the sound of men screaming like children; the sight of burning bodies tumbling over the wooden rails of the ship and into the murky water; and, worst of all, the smell, the foul smell. He shuddered as he tried to banish the gloomy thoughts from his mind. Several days had passed since that ill-fated moment, yet still he clung to hope that someone would find him, clutching his splintered piece of wood. Clinging on to life itself. Another flash; more thunder. Something caught his attention. He lifted his head from where it rested on the wood, groaning with the effort, his malnourished body struggling to accomplish even so simple a task. He peered intently into the darkling gloom. “Land?”, he thought to himself. He pushed himself up with both arms, raising himself as high as he dared. Not far off, towards the storm, he could see a small rock thrusting out of the dark water. He let out a sob of relief and began paddling frantically towards this small island and the relative safety it might offer. As he neared the rock, he slowed, once again straining upwards to see it more clearly. It was perfectly round and not very tall, jutting only a few feet above the waterline. Frowning, he continued paddling. A slight breeze was now coming from the direction of the storm, and with it came a stench, filling his nostrils with a rotten, tainted smell. He squirmed uncomfortably on his board as memories of that night came flooding back: tentacles the size of trees thrashing at the ship on which he’d served; teeth the size of tombstones grinding through its wooden hull. Another flash illuminated the sky, its light reflecting off the lonely rock before him. Only then did he realise it was no rock. He stared in horror, gazing into the yawning depths of a huge, black eye that stared right back into him, transfixing his gaze and piercing his very soul. Without warning, he felt something grip his ankle with vicelike strength and begin to pull him down into the inky depths below. An involuntary scream escaped his lips and his lungs filled with icy water.