Sometimes it happens.

Sometimes a ship wrecks and sinks during a storm. Like ours, for example.

And despite everything being shipshape just twenty minutes ago, I, slightly stunned, clung tightly to the unfortunate life raft, which was being tossed by monstrous waves and carried further and further into the roaring darkness away from the sinking ship.

The huge tanker "Aurora," broken in half and blazing like a candle, was sinking in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean in the midst of an impenetrable storm that we were supposed to pass through. Whether it was someone's mistake, a technical malfunction, or a cruel fate, it no longer mattered: the ship was sinking and doomed. The struggle for the tanker's life ended before it even began.

And I was being carried away into the damn Atlantic Ocean, joyfully tossed by the waves...

* * *

It was like being born again.

Sounds, sensations - everything was coming back from afar, getting louder and louder with each passing second, until a new day appeared in all its glory, and I returned to reality, harsh and merciless, like a military enlistment office.

Lying on my chest, I could hear the sound of waves crashing onto the shore, reaching up to my waist, and the rustling of leaves. Somewhere in front of me, I could hear the chirping of a bird, and seagulls were screaming overhead. And I also felt a light, cool breeze that made me shiver, running down my spine...

And wet, cold, sticky clothes against the skin. Plus sand on the face and a mouthful of the same sand.

It was like being born, only in this case, if the beach gave birth to you.

The sensations were so wonderful that the first thought that flashed through my mind was not the obvious "thank God, I'm alive," but "I'd better not wake up." Not joy, not relief, but deadly fatigue and a desire to return to the cozy and comfortable oblivion where such trivialities as cold, discomfort, and harsh reality don't bother you. The last time I felt something like this was after a fight in the eleventh grade.

And yet, the news that I didn't die was enough of an argument to make me move. The cold waves that froze my dignity also pushed me forward. So, making an effort, I slowly turned my body onto my back and struggled to open my eyes.

For the first few seconds, I couldn't see anything at all except for white light. At that moment, I hoped that I had ended up in heaven with angelic girls in transparent dresses... but no, alas. I'm still alive. My eyes began to adjust, and before me appeared the sky. Blue. And the sun. There was no trace of the storm that had passed.

Well, not bad, in my opinion.

With difficulty, leaning on my hands, I forced myself to sit up, then spat out the sand and slowly looked around.

Yes, as surprising as it may be, it was a beach. Just an ordinary sandy beach stretching in different directions. Only ten meters wide, it ended with a dense forest. Along the tide line, there were scattered seaweeds washed up on the shore. Just a few meters away from me, there was an orange raft, more resembling an inflatable tent.

Even looking at this orange spot, it was hard for me to believe what had happened. Under the sun, the events of the previous night felt like a nightmare rather than reality. But the more I looked at the raft, the more real it became for me.

The tanker sank: it exploded, broke apart, and went to the bottom, and I... By the way, where did I end up?

I cautiously stood up and looked around again, but besides the raft washed up on the shore, there was no one and nothing else nearby. It was a truly wild beach, without a single sign of civilization, except for me and my means of rescue. Considering that we were traveling from Europe to South America and from the place where we crashed to the nearest port would take about a week and a half, and here...

In a day? No, even less: in just one night, I was washed up on the shore.

No-no, I'm certainly not against it, thank you, yes, but the question is hanging in the air: how did I reach the shore from the center of the Atlantic Ocean if not even a day had passed? Will they be searching for me in the right place?

Images of what happened immediately came to mind: a hot tanker, people screaming, the wail of sirens and the groaning of metal, huge waves that almost completely engulfed the deck... how I was washed overboard...

Inal (a shout louder than the mountains will be when his name is mentioned on TV) Shtirlenko, a sailor, twenty-six years old, disappeared without a trace. I could already see myself on the lists that would be shown on TV for a day or two.

A trace of panic made my heart tighten, but I hurried to encourage myself.

What difference does it make what they write? No, really, I'm alive, right? And where I ended up is a whole other matter. After all, the rafts are equipped with radar reflectors and GPS beacons, so finding me won't be a problem at all. The main thing is that I'm on solid ground, and now all that's left is to wait for the rescuers and return home, where a cherished treasure awaits me.

I tried my best to push away the growing panic, even though everything was already behind me.

"Well... at least I survived, right?" I asked the emptiness, looking around.

I heard more of a dry rasp than my own voice, but after that, I felt a little calmer. Besides, the voice reminded me that my throat was literally parched.

To occupy myself with something and distract from the crappy thoughts, I decided to take inventory of the belongings.

The bag with supplies was found almost immediately. Attached inside the wall of the life raft, next to it hung another bag, but this one had distress signals, flares, and other items for signaling in emergencies. I roughly knew what was inside and where it was, as safety instructions had been given.

But as soon as I reached out and took them off, the situation unexpectedly changed. Behind me, there was a rustling of sand and a distinct:

"Grank-grank."

The sound was similar to the chirping of insects and sounded as if it was asking me what I was doing there. But it sounded so... unnatural that it sent shivers down my spine.

I slowly stuck my head out of the raft and turned to the uninvited guest.

Standing behind me, about two meters away, was... something vaguely resembling a crab with a scorpion tail, about half a meter in size. I knew many amazing creatures: giant squids, star-nosed moles, predatory centipedes, vegetarians, but giant crab-scorpions were something new to me. I don't even know what scared me more: the sight of the creature or how silently it crept up on me out of nowhere.

Standing on its spider-like legs, it looked at me with its black eyes and continuously moved several mandibles, as if chewing something. I had an unpleasant feeling that I was being examined with gastronomic interest.

"Grank?"

Now that definitely sounded like a question.

For a moment, it seemed to me that the creature had intelligence. The crab-scorpion continued to examine me with interest...

Until the moment it decided to try me for a taste.

I was only saved by the fact that I was prepared for something like this. The creature leaped forward with frightening agility, attempting to grab my leg with its claw, but missed, and in that same instant, its stinger came into play.

I hadn't anticipated this and could only manage to hold my bag in front of me.

This saved me, but I lost my food in an instant. The stinger struck it and jerked back, tearing the bag and scattering the dry rations and water bottles onto the sand.

Well, damn...

I recoiled in horror from the unknown monstrosity as it casually picked up one of the dry rations and stuffed it into its mouth. I felt sick when I saw its mandibles start to move, and for a moment, I imagined them converging on my face.

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The creature clearly didn't like the food and spat it all out a few seconds later, apparently deciding that I would be more appetizing. It looked at me, then hissed.

I don't know why, but I grabbed the survival knife from the remaining bag, a knife that could only cut, and hissed back in response, causing the crab-scorpion to retreat in fear. But then it stopped, as if puzzled, and apparently remembering who was the hunter and who was the prey, it crawled back towards me, clicking its claws.

Well, now there will be a fight with a crab for food and flesh, damn it!

Someone tell me how I ended up like this, I would call him crazy. This time I tried to keep my distance, retreating.

My gaze returned to the scattered food, which I desperately needed. I didn't think I would have to fight a crab with knives for it, but I simply had no choice.

It's unlikely that a knife with a rounded end that can only cut is suitable for a fight, but having any weapon in my hands gave me confidence. I just had to stab the crab with it.

But, as it turned out, even from such a distance, the horror movie crap posed a threat.

As if realizing that getting closer to me would be problematic, the crab-scorpion unexpectedly swung its claw towards me. I didn't even have time to be scared when a white line separated from it, like a flash of light, and flew towards me in a horizontal fan...

Well, damn...

My pants immediately began to soak with blood, as if my leg had been cut with a knife. The pain shot up to the back of my head.

Before I could even scream, another beam of light came flying. Only this one cut across my stomach, making me groan and drop the knife. Blood dripped onto the sand.

As soon as I hesitated, the crab monster took advantage of it and rushed towards me. Grabbing my knife with its claw, the creature began to swing it, approaching me and wanting to tear apart its prey. I stepped back, stumbled, and fell on my butt. And in the same second, I pushed myself back with my feet and hands, jumping back on my rear.

The stinger of the crab monster hit right between my legs, missing by just a few centimeters. I could literally hear a voice in my head saying, "Your balls could have been here..."

Yeah, it would have been really painful if it hit my balls, to be honest. I understand getting a hand injured, but the balls...

Dude, they don't forgive you for that.

Like a frog, I pushed myself away from the creature and jumped back, then quickly got up and ran to a respectful distance. The crab monster tried to reach me, but missed by just a little bit. It tried to shoot its beams at me again, but missed both times - even though they were flying so fast that it's hard to dodge them, you still have to hit your target. And considering that I was moving quite briskly, it means that the wounds inflicted by them weren't that serious.

At first, I thought about trying to shoot the creature with a rocket launcher, but then changed my mind and decided to go with a simpler method.

At the very edge, where the beach turned into a forest, I uprooted a boulder, barely dodging another line that had slipped off the crab scorpion's claw, and then rushed forward. The creature clearly suspected something, as it backed away, snapping its claws hungrily, but it didn't go far - approaching as close as possible without touching me, I struggled to lift the boulder above my head and threw it right into the center of the crab scorpion's shell.

At the last moment, I thought it might lunge forward and counterattack, but...

The stone broke through the chitinous shell with a crunch and entered inside.

"Greeenk! Greeenk!" The crab scorpion shrieked in agony, snapping its claws above its head as if trying to get the boulder out of itself. It wriggled, tried to crawl away, and desperately tried to save its life until I dragged a second boulder and dropped it, but this time on the creature's head.

I never would have thought that the crunch of someone's bones (because you can consider the chitinous shell as bones, right?) would sound so satisfying...

But the victory was short-lived, and my joy was cut short as quickly as it appeared. Before I could take a few victorious steps as a crab scorpion slayer, the water at the shore unexpectedly bubbled, and an islet appeared on the surface. It had a diameter of at least three meters, and something told me it came for me.

"Oh, come on! Are you serious?!" My indignation knew no bounds.

I certainly defeated the crab-scorpion, but I have serious doubts about whether I will have enough strength to defeat such a wonder. And as if to confirm my words, the creature hadn't even emerged when a fan-shaped beam flew out from under the water. It flew so quickly that I didn't have time to react, and a crack sounded behind me.

This fan-shaped beam literally cut down all the young trees behind me.

Oh, fuck...

This was enough of an argument to make me forget about supplies and run away.

I just turned around and immediately ran away, grabbing the knife dropped by the crab. I flew into the forest and started zigzagging between the tree trunks, breaking through the bushes far away from the damn crabs.

In an instant, I felt a light breeze on my back and, without thinking, fell to the ground. It didn't take a second for a pale beam, resembling a stinger, to crack through several trees, showering me with splinters.

After that, I jumped up and continued running deeper into the forest without looking back. But damn, it's frustrating to lose to a crab-like creature. And it's even more frustrating that the damn crab turned out to be better than me.

Crabs being better than you sounds like an insult.

* * *

I ran through the forest until I ran out of breath.

After such a run with obstacles, my heart seemed to make a final stop, and there wasn't enough air to catch my breath properly.

Constantly looking back, I remembered the inhabitants of the seabed with a slight tremor and tried to understand: either I have glitches, or the creatures are somehow different.

Now, when I escaped from danger, doubts about what I saw began to haunt me again. No, the sizes didn't scare me - on the contrary, one can believe in the existence of such frames. If it exists.

fish-drop with the face of my physical education teacher, then why not exist crab-scorpions? In South America, there are many crawling creatures.

But here are the abilities...

In my mind, an image of that ray of happiness appeared, as if someone quickly waved a sword, leaving a blurred trail, and that very blurred trail then flew towards me.

No, it's complete nonsense, it can't be. Maybe I'm just experiencing glitches after what happened? Postnatal trauma... I mean post-traumatic syndrome? Like, going through shock and so on?

Я ещё раз вспомнил произошедшее, как эти крабомрази пускали в меня свои лучи счастья. И чем больше я думал об этом, тем нереалистичное всё это казалось. Что касается порезов, может мне их нанесли, когда это существо на меня прыгнуло, а я и не заметил. Там же испуг, адреналин, а двигаться активно начал, и заболело…

I remembered again what happened, how these crab-like creatures shot their rays of happiness at me. And the more I thought about it, the more unrealistic it all seemed. As for the cuts, maybe they were inflicted on me when that creature jumped on me and I didn't notice. There was fear, adrenaline, I started moving actively, and it started to hurt...

Soon I was ready to believe that I had made it up myself - such a thing simply did not exist in nature. Electricity - yes, holograms - yes, tooth fairies.

Yes, but not at all... magic? I don't know how to even call it. The consciousness refused to accept such a thing and believe in it.

Anyway, now I had to decide what to do. Keep going or go back to who knows what.

I looked around.

Besides the birds chirping overhead and the small fearless creatures running between the trees, there was no one else. But that's now, during the day. Going deeper into the woods would mean inviting trouble in the form of predators. Besides, there's no guarantee that I'll even reach anywhere: a road or a settlement. I could just get lost and die.

At the same time, going back...

Just the thought of the crab-infested place makes me uneasy.

But there's a raft there, and on the raft, there's a GPS beacon and a radar reflector - the only things that will help rescuers find me. Plus, there's some scattered supplies for a couple of days: something might have survived. And if it comes to it, during a rescue operation, they will definitely search the nearby shores, who knows what might wash up on the beach.

That's why the logical choice fell on the boat, as the only connection to the outside world. No boat - they won't find me. They won't find me - I'll be devastated.

Before heading back, I carefully examined the wounds I received. They had clean edges, as if cut with a knife, but not too deep, despite the amount of blood. Ideally, they should be stitched, but I made do with adhesive plasters and a bandage (I can't bring myself to stitch myself up), hastily disinfe

I couldn't get out of my head what was falling from the claws of the creatures. And it seemed like I convinced myself that I had imagined it, but the closer I got, the more I began to believe it.

I came out about fifty meters to the right of where I was thrown out. I knew this from the tracks, both mine and the crabs'. There were no other signs that anyone had been there, because...

That's why there is no fucking raft!

The crustacean bastards stole the raft!

I was just sure that he was here. The garbage left from the dry rations that were chewed up also spoke for it. But the raft, the most important thing, was gone! Bitch, I understand food, but why the hell do you need a raft underwater, scum?! Damn, you even stole the fishing line with hooks!

Out of indignation, I was ready to get into the water myself and find the bastards, but the skin was much more important. I really, really wanted to go home, where my savings, accumulated with blood and sweat, were waiting for me, so there was no point in taking risks...

“What kind of bad luck is this…” I croaked, my voice completely absent.

By the way, they also dragged away the body of their fellow man.

I wandered along the shore and from what was more or less intact I found only a bottle punctured at the very bottom. Apparently, the crustacean filth had stepped in. The rest had been mercilessly chewed. After thinking for a bit, I took it: I had disinfectant tablets, but no container to collect water in. And so I'll cut off the punctured bottom, and it will be something like a cup.

The thought of water made my throat feel dry, but I immediately tried to push those thoughts out of my head.

Since there was no boat, there was no point in staying. The GPS beacon does not work underwater, and there is no point in talking about a reflector. You can also wait for a miracle for a long time, and it is not a fact that I will wait for it without water and food. But on the shore there were often fishing villages, so the chances of reaching them or at least finding a stream were much higher.

Now all that remained was to figure out where I should move - left or right.

After thinking for a bit, I decided to proceed from simple logic. I'm right, so I'll go right, and then we'll see. Finally, having laid out a large arrow on the sand with stones and logs, I moved along the beach, driven by thirst and the call of adventure to my ass.