The Island Deaths

Inspiration for this piece – photo prompt in writers group of houses on an island surrounded by fog with a creature overhead.

The fog was surrounding the houses but no one thought anything strange. Fog was usual this time of year and there were times when the houses couldn’t be seen at all. I lived on an exclusive island. I knew that when I bought my cottage close to the top. The clock tower was high above me and on a good ‘no-fog’ day I could even see down to the shoreline where the ferry waited for its onslaught of foot passengers, islanders going to shore for work and those damn tourists! There was nothing here to see for them but they kept coming. I stopped a tourist one day and even asked 

“What’s the fascination here on our island?’

“You don’t know?”

“Would I have asked?” I replied raising my eyes. 

“Legend has it the creature comes out in full fog and when the fog lifts the creature disappears. Apparently there have been strange deaths here. Everyone thinks it’s the creature”

“Well, thank you for that science fiction adventure but I have to work” and I left the tourist staring around. 

Heading home after work, it was darker than it usually was. I realised that I was later getting home but it was something else, something I couldn’t put my finger on. Of  course, I thought. Damn fog again, as I opened the door on the ferry to get off.  

The fog was all around me but as I departed the ferry and began the evening trudge uphill, it started to lift. That’s when I saw it. I stopped, mouth wide upon in disbelief.  I thought it was all bullshit, I said to myself. I reached for my phone to photograph it but my fingers would not work. The phone tumbled to the ground rolling away from me. I left it not wanting to take my eyes off this things above me. 

I had no clue what it was.  It was dark in colour and I saw tentacles. Lots of tentacles. One of them had a man clutched in its grasp. I knew that man but within seconds he was gone. Then it reached again. Was this really what had been causing the mysterious deaths? In my heart I hoped not. If it was, then I had just become a statistic.  My ankle was secured.  Another tentacle had my arm. The tentacles had came for me.