Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Rose

I sit on the deck of my rented houseboat, soaking wet and shivering, but I can’t seem to make myself move. Yes, I hit my head out there, and yes, it’s still throbbing. But I know what I saw. That shadow beneath my kayak had been colossal. However, the tentacle that lifted me to safety had been gentle and careful – almost protective. I brush my fingers across my waist where it held me, the ghost-touch still lingering on my skin. I know I didn’t hallucinate that; something extraordinary lives in these waters, and it just saved my life.

With trembling hands, I lift my shirt, and my breath catches in my throat. There, on my skin, is the faint outline of a sucker mark as big as my hand. I trace it with my finger, my mind reeling. The tentacle that wrapped around my waist had been even bigger than my thigh. The sheer scale of it is almost beyond comprehension.

The memory feels both vivid and hazy, like a dream that lingers after waking. But dreams don’t leave physical evidence. I stare at the mark, trying to make sense of what happened. A creature that size… it shouldn’t exist. Only in legends…

“Rose!” A voice cuts through my daze. I look up to see Levi waving at me from his houseboat. “Are you alright?”

As I turn towards him, his expression changes to one of alarm. “Oh my god, you’re bleeding!”

I reach up to touch my scalp, and my fingers come away red with blood. The sight of it seems to snap me back to reality. Suddenly, I’m acutely aware of how cold and wet I am and how much my head hurts.

Before I can respond, Levi sprints across the dock from his houseboat, his feet pounding against the wooden planks as he races to my side. His face is etched with concern when he reaches me. “Rose, what happened? Are you hurt anywhere else?”

I blink at him, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. “I… I took the kayak out,” I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “There was a storm. It came out of nowhere.”

Worry floods Levi’s features as he gently turns my head to examine the wound hidden just behind my ear. “You shouldn’t go out on the open water alone,” he says softly, concern threading through his voice. “It’s dangerous. You should always let me know when you’re going out, okay?”

I nod absently, wincing as he probes the area around the cut. “I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I didn’t think…”

“It’s okay,” Levi reassures me. “What matters is that you’re safe now. But how did you manage to get back with this head injury? The storm was intense.”

I hesitate, unsure of what to say. How can I explain what happened when I’m not even sure I believe it myself? My eyes dart to the kayak, and I feel a jolt of panic as I realize the paddle is missing. I hope Levi doesn’t notice. “It was hard,” I say finally, my voice wavering slightly. “I just… made it back somehow.”

The lie feels paper-thin, and Levi’s eyes narrow as he studies my face. I think he’ll press for more details for a heart-stopping moment, but he lets it go. Relief washes through me as he turns his attention back to the cut behind my ear.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says instead, helping me to my feet. As he guides me inside the houseboat, I can’t help but glance back at the water, wondering if my unknown friend is still out there.

I let Levi guide me to the houseboat’s tiny bathroom, grateful for his steady presence. He has me sit on the toilet while he looks for a first aid kit and starts cleaning the cut behind my ear. “The wound’s quite small, thankfully,” he murmurs as he works. “And you’re lucky – it’s just at the hairline, so we won’t have to shave anything to bandage it. Head injuries tend to bleed a lot.” I study his face as he tends to me, searching for… something. I’m not even sure what.

“Levi,” I say suddenly, surprising myself. “Did you… did you see me coming back to the houseboat?”

He pauses for a moment, his hand hovering over my head with a Band-Aid. “No,” he replies, his voice steady. “I was below deck because of the storm. I only came up when it passed and saw you sitting out here.”

I nod slowly, turning this information over in my mind.

“Rose,” Levi says, interrupting my thoughts, “what exactly happened out there? You seem… shaken.”

I bite my lip, debating whether to tell him about the creature I think I saw. But it sounds crazy even in my own head. Plus, I feel a responsibility to protect the existence of the animal that saved me. Finally, I shake my head. “It’s nothing. Just the storm. It was scary, that’s all.”

Levi nods, not pressing further.

“There,” he says, stepping back to examine his handiwork. “That should do it. How are you feeling now?”

“Better,” I say, offering a small smile. “Thank you, Levi.”

“Anytime,” he replies, and the way he says it lets me know he means it. “Why don’t you get changed into some dry clothes? I’ll make us something hot to drink. Do you prefer coffee or tea?”

“Coffee. With cream and sugar, please.”

In my tiny bedroom, I peel off my sodden clothes with shaking hands, grateful to slip into warm, dry yoga pants and my favorite oversized sweater. As Levi bustles around the kitchen, I’m drawn back outside.

Leaning over the railing, I scan the water below, hoping irrationally to catch a glimpse of my mysterious rescuer. The sun sparkles on the calm harbor like the storm never happened, but I know better. Somewhere beneath this serene surface lies a creature I can barely comprehend – so massive I can’t imagine how it fit in the marina. The memory of those gentle tentacles remains vivid, even as the reality of it seems impossible in the bright afternoon light.

My mind races, trying to make sense of what I saw. Could it have been a kraken? The thought seems absurd – krakens are myths, legends told by sailors to scare ‘landlubbers’. The idea is ridiculous, but how it moved felt almost… intelligent. Deliberate. The tentacle that lifted me had been careful – gentle even. Not the blind groping of some mindless sea creature. I wish I knew more about marine life beyond what I’ve seen in documentaries and aquariums – everything I thought I knew about what’s possible has been turned upside down. I’d look it up on my phone, but that’s currently at the bottom of the ocean, along with the rest of my belongings. Whatever saved me is forcing me to question everything I thought I knew about the line between reality and myth.

Levi joins me, handing me a steaming mug of coffee. “Penny for your thoughts?” he asks.

I wrap my hands around the warm ceramic, grateful for its comforting heat. “I’m… I’m just glad you’re here and that I’m okay.”

“Me too.” Levi’s voice is soft, and when I glance up, his eyes are intense with an emotion I can’t quite name. “You gave me quite a fright when I saw you were injured. The fact that you could’ve been killed in that squall… “He trails off, shaking his head. “Well, what matters is that you’re safe now.”

We lean against the railing of the houseboat, sipping our coffee and watching the gentle waves. There’s a weight of unspoken words between us, questions I want to ask but don’t know how to voice.

“Levi,” I say eventually, my voice hesitant. “Have you ever… seen anything strange in the water? Anything you couldn’t explain?”

He turns to look at me, something unreadable in his eyes. “The ocean is vast and ancient,” he says finally. “I think there are many things in it that we can’t explain. Why do you ask?”

I shake my head, managing a rueful smile. “No reason. Just… wondering, I guess.”

We turn back to the water, lost in our thoughts. The silence between us feels heavy with unspoken things. I catch him watching me every so often, his eyes soft with concern.

I catch him staring at me again, and he gestures toward my chest. “Sorry, I noticed your necklace. I don’t think I’ve seen that pendant before. It’s beautiful.”

I look down, my fingers automatically finding the smooth stone that hangs from a simple silver chain. “It’s labradorite. I picked it up in town earlier.”

I hold it up, and it catches the light, revealing flashes of blue and green beneath its gray surface. “I was drawn to the way it changes color, like the ocean.”

Levi leans closer to examine it, and for a moment, I’m acutely aware of his proximity.

“It suits you,” he says softly, before settling back in his seat.

I don’t realize how long we’ve been sitting until I lift my mug and find the coffee has gone cold. The movement makes my head throb, reminding me of everything I’ve been through.

“You should rest,” Levi says gently, noticing my wince. “You’ve had quite an ordeal. Maybe you should lie down?”

“I’m not that tired,” I say, though a yawn betrays me. “I just want to relax for a few minutes. Would you… would you stay? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Levi looks at me for a long moment, something conflicted in his eyes. Finally, he nods. “Of course,” he says softly. “I’ll stay as long as you need.”

Relief washes over me as we settle onto the cushioned outdoor couch. I know I’m being needy, but I can’t help it. The gentle rock of the houseboat and Levi’s steady presence beside me are oddly comforting. I close my eyes, just for a moment…

The next thing I know, the sky is painted in brilliant hues of indigo and orange. Levi is gone, but a blanket is tucked securely around me. I sit up, my head clearer now, though the day’s events still feel somewhat dreamlike.

Watching the sun set over the harbor, I sort through what happened. The rational part of my brain wants to dismiss it – wants to say I was confused, oxygen-deprived, scared. But I know what I felt. Those tentacles had been real and solid around my waist. That massive shadow beneath my kayak had moved with purpose, with intelligence. My head might have been bleeding, but my mind had been clear enough. A giant octopus – a kraken – had saved my life. It sounds impossible, but I have to trust what I experienced. The world, it seems, is far more extraordinary than I’d imagined.

Rising from the couch, I’m drawn to the edge of the deck. Leaning over the railing, I whisper into the darkness, “Thank you.” The words feel inadequate for the magnitude of what happened, but they’re all I have.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then, a soft splash breaks the silence, followed by a ripple on the water’s surface. My heart races as I peer into the dark water, straining my eyes to catch a glimpse of… something. But the water remains stubbornly opaque, revealing nothing of what might lurk beneath.