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Only at Low Tide

You'll only find them at low tide.

By Isla BerryPublished 3 years ago 6 min read
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It was the eyes that unnerved her the most. The lifeless eyes that stared up into nothing but at everything all at once. They were cold. Dead. All the life that once existed had vanished.

Even though her features were bloated, and her skin was blue, Detective Casey Yvonne knew this girl matched the description of the missing 26-year-old, Eileen Boene. The fun-loving, charismatic event planner had gone missing not two days ago, and like those before her, turned up at low tide.

The girl had been in her mid-20s just like the other eight victims. This was Casey’s first case as lead detective, but the now nine drowned girls and virtually zero leads were not instilling any confidence in her team, nor in her frustrated superiors.

It started less than a month ago. And at first, Casey thought the deaths were nothing but accidental drownings. There were never any marks on the bodies that indicated a struggle, no substances in their systems, and no evidence that the girls were victims of suicide. All the victims held stable jobs, were in happy relationships, and otherwise had their entire lives ahead of them.

But the deaths kept happening at a rate of nearly three a week. If it had been one or two deaths, maybe she could count it as an accident. But nine? No way was that a coincidence.

As the coroners zipped up the black body bag, Casey got one last look at the dead girl. Thankfully, her eyes had been closed, and she looked more at peace, almost as if she was sleeping. There wouldn’t be another one like her. She’d find whoever did this even if it was the last thing she would ever do.

Back at her office, she walked into the room covered in pictures, newspaper clippings, and details of the case. It honestly looked more like the den of a serial killer than that of an organized detective, but Casey preferred to arrange her notes that way. It told more of a story and helped keep her motivation high. Casey ran her fingers along the pictures of the dead and missing girls until she reached Eileen’s photo.

Eileen’s smile had been full of life. One of those happy smiles that could lighten up a crowd. Her eyes twinkled bright green and indicated a softness that was so unlike the glassy, unfocused eyes of the girl on the beach. Casey sighed as she took out her red sharpie and swiftly drew a large X over Eileen’s picture. Hopefully it would be the last.

Casey had gone through the usual suspects which all turned out to be dead ends. She sat down at her desk to review her notes for the hundredth time, not that it was going to help with anything. Exasperated, she pushed her neat piles off the table so that they landed in disarray on the floor. She slammed her head against the desk and sat in the silence of her room hoping for a brilliant thought to come her way.

She would go to the beach alone.

It definitely wasn’t her best idea, but maybe the lack of an entire team of detectives would draw the killer out so that she can at least identify whoever it is. And besides, it was a full moon so there would be plenty of light for surveillance.

When she got to the beach, the sun was already setting. On a night when a dead girl hadn’t appeared beneath the waves, the beach would be exploding with parties, bonfires, and happy-go-lucky beachgoers enjoying the balmy night. But not tonight. Tonight, the shores were bare and there wasn’t a soul in sight.

The moon glowed brightly on the calm surface of the water so perfectly that the water looked like a portal to another world. That was when she saw it. There was a ship, not a fishing boat or yacht, but a ship that looked like the ones you see in old pirate movies.

Even from a distance, Casey could tell that the ship was huge. There was no wind on the shore, but the sails still appeared as though they were being pushed but a light sea breeze. Three masts shot into the sky, which made the ship’s silhouette dominate the horizon. It was beautiful, there was no doubt. But at this time of night and with no one around her, the lone ship was unsettling.

Despite the warm temperature, Casey shivered. She stared at the ship as it began to sail across the horizon. But as she turned to watch it glide across the water, Casey saw a young woman standing barefoot on the shore.

She had long flowing curls and wore a nightgown that reached her ankles. As she stared at the ship on the horizon, the woman seemed oblivious to Casey’s presence.

“Hello? Miss?” Casey said aloud. The woman didn’t even turn her head, so Casey slowly walked towards her.

As Casey approached the woman she asked, “Hello? This is a crime scene, you aren’t supposed to be here.”

The woman still didn’t so much as glance her way but continued to stare off at the water. They both sat in silence for a few moments.

“It’s been here before. That ship.” The woman said without looking away from the water.

“Um, what do you mean?” Casey asked back confused.

“They do things to women. Terrible things.” She replied in a steady voice.

Casey immediately perked up. Did this woman know about the dead girls? “What kind of things?” She asked almost too quickly.

“They’ll take you and hide you below the deck and use you as they will. Even if you do make it back alive, you’ll be shunned because you’ve been used. You’re useless.” The woman turned her head slowly towards Casey. That’s when she noticed her eyes. They were glass. Cold. Dead.

“It’s better if you were dead. You can’t be shunned if you’re dead.” The light, even tone of her voice changed to a sharp hiss, and the woman grabbed Casey. She was strong, too strong.

Casey had passed her physical training and considered herself tough, but she was still no match for this woman. She struggled to get free from the woman’s grasp, but the woman grabbed her hair and began pulling Casey’s flailing body towards the water.

Casey couldn’t break the woman’s grasp, and she was dragged into the cold ocean water. The salt stung her eyes and she could barely keep her head above the water.

“It’s better this way. You can’t be taken if you’re dead.” The woman said in the same icy shriek as she plunged Casey under the water.

Casey expected to be met with the instant quiet of the ocean water but frantic screaming filled her ears. The screaming was so loud that it sounded like it was in her head like she was the one screaming. And Casey did scream, but all that came out of her mouth were the steams of bubbles that were her last bit of oxygen.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t break the woman’s grasp. But in her last moments, the pressure of the woman’s hands disappeared, and Casey’s vision started to go black.

That was when she realized there was no way to escape it. Casey would be the next pair of lifeless, glassed-over eyes found at low tide.

Thank you for reading!

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About the Creator

Isla Berry

Fueled by black coffee and Lucky Charms, I'm ready to take on the world one short story at a time. Passionate dog mom, fantasy junkie, and lover of all things steamy.

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