Dark Waters Story Novels & Stories

—— Day Thirty Time behaves strangely underwater. It is fluid, amorphous, stripping away the structured certainty of the world above. There was no sunrise or sunset here in the deep. There was only the harsh, clinical glare of the artificial lights and the feeding alarm that screamed at exactly noon. That sound—the chaotic splashing of twelve Great White Sharks tearing into bloody bait—sounded like a dull, rusty saw grinding against bone. Chop. Chop. Chop. It whittled the nerves down to fine, trembling dust.

“And don’t worry, I’m not planning to do anything stupid. I just want to breathe the air there. That’s all.” The moment the name leaves my mouth, Helena’s whole body starts shaking. I can see pure fear on her face. I understand why. Anyone would be terrified just hearing that name. The Darkwater Lake. A lake so black and deep that even the moon refuses to show its face in the water. Anything that falls in; objects, memories, whole lives—is swallowed forever. No one who loses something to that lake ever remembers it again. That’s why the creatures that live beneath the surface, the memory-eaters, grow fat and strong. They feed on whatever people forget.

At least an inch of water covered the asphalt and rose with every passing second. Juliet’s hand had unknowingly found its way to the handle hanging from the roof of the vehicle. Her knuckles were white from the pressure she applied to the small piece of plastic as the car lost its traction as they turned onto another street. The back end of the SUV fishtailed out behind them, and she wanted to close her eyes but couldn't tear them away from the waves of water pouring down against the glass of the windshield. Matthew let out a low expletive as he expertly regained control, and they continued to move forward more slowly than before. She saw him glance over at her out of the corner of her eye,

The darkness inside the submersible was absolute, a cold, pressurized silence that felt like being buried alive in a steel coffin. I sat huddled on the floor, my fingers digging into the cold metal handle of the briefcase. The shockwave from the tanker’s explosion had subsided, leaving only the rhythmic, haunting hum of the automated engines as they propelled me through the deep currents of the Black Sea. Killian’s final words echoed in the small cabin, a ghost’s promise whispered through a speaker. I’ll find you when the world is ashes.

The sheer weight of the Open World, the fourteen-day doomsday clock, and the terrifying prospect of sinking into the blackest abyss on the planet was finally catching up to me. "I've never been underwater, Dax," I admitted, my voice dropping to a whisper. "I grew up in the slums of Coldwater. I've hacked mainframes and I've built engines. But the ocean... it's just so heavy. If I make a mistake down there, there's no reset button." Dax didn't offer empty platitudes. He didn't tell me it would be easy. He reached out, his calloused, scarred hand wrapping around my trembling fingers. The warmth of his skin instantly grounded me, pulling me back from the edge of the panic.

I felt foolish for judging him the way I did, he was telling stories of the voiceless, trying to bring global attention to their suffering. Before I knew it, hours flew by with Etienne taking me around the gallery, introducing me to several people. I couldn’t stop thinking about Yara, she looked my age. I could be her, how we were different? Just happened to be born within different geographical lines really. She would never have the chances, the opportunities I was so easily given. Etienne took me to a dive Indian restaurant, much to my surprise. By the end of the night I was completely hooked on his every word. The things this man had seen, his stories just moved me so much.

The fate of the nation hung in the balance, its destiny intertwined with the actions of Lyca and Drake. Conard, the stoic and resolute leader of the Water Nation, stood at the edge of a vast, churning sea, his gaze fixed upon the horizon where the sky met the water in an endless expanse of blue. His heart pounded with a mix of anticipation and trepidation, for he was on the cusp of a perilous journey to confront the werewolf god destroyers, Lyca and Drake.

the view here is incredibly fascinating, but it can’t make my heart feel fine or neither amaze. “I think he is not really alone” a voice behind me “What makes you think he is not alone?” “You see Mr. Carter, there are a lot of stars and moon at the same galaxy where the sun is, it’s just that he is the brightest of all the stars and he shine on different time here on earth.” “Well he looks alone to me” “He is just too bright that it overpowers the other stars. Not because you cannot see it means they are not actually there.” “Well said, anyway what should I call you again?” I turn and face to the woman Andrea hires for me

White skin, check. Face? Nah. Is that even a face? She approached us with two other women behind her. But how they walk towards us amazed me. The surroundings are like in slow-motion. Just like Catriona Gray did? Lava walk? But their walk is called differently. 'Whore walk' it should be called. They look like fools walking. It's still slowing down, you seem to be in slow motion, huh.

"My grandmother told me from childhood that there is a terrible evil lurking in the dark, so I should beware of the darkness... So I have always been afraid of the dark. I always came home before dusk and asked my mother not to turn off the light in my room. Then she would light a candle for me and put it on the bedside table next to my bed to save electricity. I stared at that flame and felt safe, as if some invisible force hidden within that flame was watching over me, protecting from all evil. However, the darkness caught me then in my dreams, it lurked, hiding in its depths overgrown creatures with huge teeth, long claws and wild eyesight. Chased by these terrible creations of my childho