Chapter Two

I woke up with a sore back, all thanks to the stone-hard mattress I slept on. I knew this wasn’t some five-star hotel, but they could’ve at least tried with the beds. Yesterday’s travel had drained me, and even after a night’s sleep, I didn’t feel fully refreshed.

As I swung my legs off the bed, Jonathan’s stare flashed in my mind. That man was shameless. I needed to keep my distance.

My wool socks slid on the smooth wood floor, betraying me. My ankle twisted, and I stumbled forward, fingers scraping the doorframe to catch myself. That’s when I saw them.

The prints stretched across the floor, too wide for human feet, with curves like claws or fins. Each one glistened with an oily sheen in the weak light.

“Get it together.” My voice trembled. I forced three deep breaths, just like my therapist taught me. “You’re here for science, not ghost stories.”

I grabbed a cloth from under the sink and wiped my glasses, my fingers shaking slightly. They were just sea spray, I told myself. Just salt and water, nothing more.

I yanked on my armor for the day, my favorite worn t-shirt, a chunky sweater that still smelled faintly of home, and jeans that had seen better days. Wrestling my curls into something that passed for order. I pulled on a woolen cap feeling the thick knit hug my head, the scratchy warmth a small comfort. My glasses slid down my nose, same as always. I pushed them up and forced a smile into the mirror. It didn’t quite reach my eyes. But it would have to do.

I wandered through the inn, floorboards creaking under my feet. The bitter smell of coffee pulled me towards a door. I pushed it open, and the kitchen greeted me with warmth. Sebastian was already at the counter, slicing some vegetables. The sound of his knife tapping against the board filled the quiet. He looked up as I walked in.

“Morning,” I croaked.

He paused, the knife hovering just above the board. “Morning.” His tone was casual, but his gaze felt sharp, like he noticed more than he let on.

“You want coffee?” he asked.

“God, yes,” I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself against the chill. “Thanks.”

He handed me a mug, the ceramic warm against my frozen fingers. The first sip seared its way down my throat, spreading heat through my chest. It didn’t fix everything, but it woke me up, chased away the worst of the chill.

“Is there a heater or something?” I asked, trying not to sound as pathetic as I felt. “The one in my room’s dead.”

Sebastian’s knife paused mid-chop. He glanced up, eyebrows raised. “Out of fuel, probably.”

He grabbed a rag, wiped his hands, then crossed to a cabinet. With zero effort, he hauled out a gas cylinder and set it down with a loud clunk. “We use these. Propane. If yours ran dry, it happens.”

I eyed the tank like it might bite me. “Does that happen often?”

He shrugged, already turning back to his chopping. “Out here? Constantly.”

I nodded, swallowing the urge to complain because I knew this wasn’t some cozy getaway. Comfort wasn’t part of the deal.

“These inn, “ I spoke too loud. I cleared my throat. “It’s yours? You and your mom’s?”

His shoulders tensed. “Inherited. From her father. And his before that.” The knife slowed, his voice became a bit quieter now. “It’s all we have.” His eyes shifted to the window, to the gray ocean stretching out forever.

“Your dad?” The question slipped out before I could stop it.

The knife stopped. His knuckles turned white. “Died at sea.” He swallowed hard, like the words scraped his throat. “Happens a lot here.”

Silence settled over us. Grief hung there too and I knew that look in his eyes. I’d seen it in my own mirror. Some things you don’t talk about.

I turned and left the kitchen. His quiet stayed with me, like a weight I couldn’t shake off.

By the time I reached the lab, Trevor was waiting. He leaned against one of the tables, arms crossed, smirking like he’d been rehearsing it all morning.

“Finally joining us?” He traded looks with Jonathan, who undressed me with his eyes from the corner. “Nice of you to let us set up while you got your beauty rest.”

I kept my face blank, heading for Kim's station. She shot me a look of understanding, organizing vials with steady hands.

Jamie was bent over the centrifuge, muttering as he twisted knobs and checked the calibration. His brow was furrowed so deeply it looked like it might stay that way. “These settings are all over the place,” he grumbled. The machine hummed faintly, but his tension filled the air more than the sound.

Jonathan leaned against the far counter, his arms crossed. He didn't say anything, just watched with an unrelenting stare. His silence felt louder than anything else in the room - not encouraging, but expectant, like he was waiting for someone to fail.

“So, how's it coming along?” I asked, pulling on my gloves as I took a seat next to Kim.

“Almost set,” she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “The slides are prepped. We just need the algae.”

Jamie straightened, rubbing the back of his neck. “We can test setups all day, but without the algae, there's only so much we can do.”

“Exactly,” Jonathan cut in, his voice sharp as he stepped forward and uncrossed his arms. “We're wasting time. We need to dive and collect what we need.”

“No,” I said firmly, turning to face him. “Tanya will bring the algae.”

His jaw tightened, his eyes not leaving mine. “Tanya's not in charge here. We've got permits. We've got the gear. We need to do our jobs.”

“Diving isn't an option,” I raised my voice a bit. “Not until Tanya gives the go-ahead.”

Jonathan didn’t argue, but he turned away with a muttered curse. I knew he hated taking orders from women, but I wasn’t about to let his ego get us kicked out before we even saw the algae. Even if it was just old samples.

I walked over to the cages lined up near the wall. Inside, our three test mice scurried restlessly, their tiny noses twitching at the faint smell of food. Crouching by the brown mouse with the white stripe, I grabbed the container of pellets and held one out. “Come on, buddy,” I murmured. Willy had become a quick favorite. His curious nature made him stand out. He hesitated for a moment before darting forward to snatch the pellet, then retreating to his corner to nibble.

Kim glanced over and smirked. “Still spoiling him?”

“Just keeping morale up,” I said, shutting the cage door. “He's the only one around here who doesn't complain.”

Trevor snorted from the floor. “Give it time. He'll start squeaking about algae soon enough.”

The door creaked open, and all eyes turned as Tanya stepped inside. Her silver braid caught the light, sleek and bright. She didn’t bother with greetings, just strode to the counter with a kind of quiet authority that filled the room.

Opening the bag slung over her shoulder, she pulled out three jars. The algae inside glowed faintly, the light pulsing like a heartbeat. She placed them on the counter with deliberate care.

“These are what the Abyss has allowed us to take,” she told us, the warning clear in her voice. “Use them wisely. They will not last long.”

Kim stepped closer, fingers brushing the glass. “Thank you,” she murmured, her gaze fixed on the jars.

Tanya looked at her, then at the rest of us, pausing on Jonathan just a little longer. “The Abyss isn’t just water. It’s alive. It’s ancient. It doesn’t forget. It doesn’t forgive. Treat this as a gift, or you’ll regret it.”

Her focus lingered on Jonathan one last time before she turned and walked out.

The door closed with a soft thud, leaving silence behind. No one moved until Jaime finally spoke.

“She’s serious,” he said quietly. “She really believes this Abyss thing is alive.”

Jonathan scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Belief doesn't matter. What matters is whether these samples are good enough to get results.”

Kim frowned. “It does matter. They've survived for centuries by following these rules. Maybe we should listen.”

I didn't respond, my attention was entirely fixed on the jars. The algae's glow was mesmerizing, but there was something unsettling about it too. Reaching out, I brushed my fingers against the glass. A sharp, lingering chill spread through my hand, and I quickly pulled back, flexing my fingers.

“Let's get started,” I said, slipping on my gloves. “Jamie, run the centrifuge. Kim, take a sample and get it under the microscope.”

The lab shifted into motion, the quiet breaking as machines hummed and pens scraped against paper. Kim and Jaime moved quickly, their focus locked on the algae. Its glow faded as we studied it, dimming like a candle burning low.

Kim’s voice broke through the noise, tight with frustration. “It’s degrading too fast. The regenerative properties barely register.”

Jaime leaned over her shoulder, his jaw set. “These samples won’t last. We need fresh ones.”

I stared at the data streaming across my screen, the numbers mocking me. He wasn’t wrong. But what choice did we have? I pulled off my glasses and rubbed the bridge of my nose, the ache building behind my eyes.

“We work with what we’ve got,” I said, more to myself than anyone else.

Fresh samples. I knew we needed them. But I also knew where they were. Out there. In the dark waters where my parents had vanished twenty five years ago. Now it was my turn to face the same darkness ,and I wasn’t sure I’d come back.