As dawn broke once more, Aufhocker awoke to the eerie stillness of the fog-enshrouded western sea known as the Nebelinseln. The air was thick with moisture, and the horizon was obscured by dense mist. He stood at the helm, peering into the fog as he navigated slowly and cautiously. The waters here were filled with small islands and wrecks cast upon the rocks, and the fog made it impossible to see beyond a few meters ahead.

Hours passed as he navigated through the fog, the only sounds being the creaking of the StormFisker and the gentle lapping of the water against the hull. The fog was so thick that he could barely see the bow of his own ship. His senses were on alert, every shadow and ripple in the water a potential threat.

First only slightly but then very quickly a dark shape loomed out of the mist ahead. Aufhocker adjusted the sails and steered the boat to the side, cautiously approaching what appeared to be a rocky outcrop. As he drew closer, he could make out more details: jagged rocks jutting out of the water, covered in slick seaweed and barnacles.

As he rounded a particularly large rock, he spotted something unusual. A narrow channel appeared between two rocky outcrops, the water calmer and darker than the surrounding sea. It looked like a potential way through the islands, but it was risky. The channel was barely wide enough for the StormFisker, and any oversight could mean disaster.

With a deep breath, Aufhocker decided to take the risk. He steered the boat into the channel, the sides of the rocky outcrops looming close on either side. The water here was eerily calm, almost as if it were waiting for something.

As he navigated through the narrow passage, the fog seemed to close in even more tightly around him. Visibility was almost nonexistent, and he relied on his instincts and the feeling stick to guide the boat through. The air was thick with tension, and every creak of the boat sounded magnified in the stillness.

Suddenly, a cacophony of shrieks tore through the fog. Aufhocker's heart skipped a beat as a massive flock of seabats burst through the mist, their leathery wings flapping furiously. The flock was in a frenzied state, their high-pitched cries piercing the heavy air. They flew low over the StormFisker, their chaotic flight pattern disrupting the sails and rigging.

Aufhocker ducked as the seabats swarmed around him, their wings slashing at the sails, tearing through the fabric. He felt a sharp sting as one of the bats collided with him, its claws raking across his arm before it darted away. The sails fluttered wildly, the boat rocking as the seabats continued their frantic flight.

Hurt and confused, he wondered why such a large flock of seabats would be fleeing so desperately. Then, with much terror, he came to the epiphany that something terrible must be nearby. With a sense of urgency, he quickly doused all lights on the boat and lowered the sails, trying to make the StormFisker as inconspicuous as possible. The seabats' cries faded into the distance, leaving an eerie silence in their wake.

Aufhocker's breath caught in his throat as he heard a low, rumbling noise coming from the depths below. The water around the boat began to churn, and a massive shadow emerged from the fog. His eyes widened in horror as he realized what it was: an immense kraken, its enormous body gliding silently through the water.

He remained utterly still, frozen by fear, his eyes fixed on the colossal creature. One of its massive tentacles broke the surface, curling through the air with slow, deliberate grace. The tentacle moved closer to the StormFisker, the suction cups glistening with moisture. Aufhocker held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. The tentacle hovered just above the boat, mere inches from the deck, before descending back into the water.

The kraken's immense form continued to move through the water, and Aufhocker dared not breathe until it disappeared back into the fog. He exhaled shakily, the gravity of the encounter settling in. He simply had no words to describe what he had just experienced—pure luck, divine blessing, or a cruel twist of fate that had brought it so close to him.

After some time had passed, Aufhocker resumed his journey, guiding the boat through the labyrinthine channels of the Nebelinseln. As he passed the islands, strange and menacing creatures appeared along the coastlines, their eyes glinting in the dim light. Aggressive screaming skull monkeys swung from twisted trees, their white fur resembling skulls in the dark. Great coastal scorpions scuttled along the rocky shores, their pincers snapping menacingly as he passed. Wailing ghosts drifted among the shipwrecks, their mournful cries echoing through the mist. The journey through the Nebelinseln was a test of endurance and nerve, but after what he had just experienced, it was not enough to scare him anymore.

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Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

However, the horror was not over yet. As he navigated through the mist, he began to hear faint whispering voices. At first, he thought it was his imagination, but the whispers grew louder and more insistent. They seemed to come from all around him, echoing through the fog. The words were indistinct, but the tone was unmistakably mocking and malevolent.

"Aufhocker... Aufhocker..." The whispers seemed to call his name, sending shivers down his spine.

He tried to ignore the voices, focusing on steering the boat through the fog. But the whispers grew louder, merging into a cacophony of mocking laughter and taunts. The air grew colder, and the fog seemed to press in closer, suffocating him.

Desperately, he looked around for the source of the voices but saw nothing but the dense mist. His heart pounded in his chest, and his hands trembled on the helm. The mocking voices grew louder and louder, until they were almost deafening.

Then, a loud rumble was the only sound he could hear, followed by a large tentacle arm welling up from the water before crashing down into the water next to the ship, setting panic into Aufhocker's mind. Had the kraken been led to him by these ghosts?

But then a figure appeared in the fog ahead of him. It was a shadowy silhouette, barely visible through the mist. As it drew closer, he could make out more details: a tall, gaunt figure with hollow eyes and a malevolent grin. The figure was a wraith, a spiteful spirit filled with malice and hatred.

The wraith's eyes locked onto Aufhocker, and it began to speak in a voice that was both familiar and alien. "You cannot escape, Aufhocker. You will join us."

The words sent a chill down his spine. He tried to steer the boat away from the wraith, but the figure seemed to follow him, always staying just at the edge of his vision. The mocking laughter grew louder, and the whispers became more insistent.

"Turn around, Aufhocker. Face me."

In a burst of anger and desperation, Aufhocker whirled around to confront the wraith. To his horror, he saw his own reflection in the mist, but it was twisted and decaying, mirroring the wraith's malevolent influence. The sight was so shocking that he stumbled back, nearly losing his footing on the wet deck.

The wraith cackled, its laughter echoing through the mist. "You cannot escape, Aufhocker. Your grave is here. You will die here."

Enraged by the wraith's mockery, Aufhocker seized a nearby lantern and hurled it at the spirit. The lantern shattered upon impact, igniting a small fire that flickered in the mist. Instantly, the wraith seized upon the flames, using them to conjure horrific visions.

The fire danced and twisted, morphing into images of his friend Ofnir engulfed in flames, screaming in agony. Aufhocker recoiled in horror, his mind racing with guilt and grief. Before he could react, the scene morphed—a wounded serpent, the same creature he had slain earlier, writhed in pain and rage, its eyes then fixed upon him. It jumped out with wrathful hissing, but as an illusion it did nothing real as it went through Aufhocker. "Show your true self, wraith!" Aufhocker screamed in angered defiance, his voice echoing through the mist.

The wraith's form shifted and contorted in response to Aufhocker's challenge. Its ethereal body seemed to flicker and waver, as if struggling to maintain its malevolent presence in the mortal realm. Dark tendrils of mist curled around its gaunt frame, and its eyes, hollow voids that radiated a cold, piercing gaze.

The figure's spectral features were now clearer, its face a mockery of human likeness, twisted by centuries of bitterness and resentment. Jagged lines marked where its mouth should have been, but only a malevolent grin stretched across its ghostly countenance. Its form seemed to fade in and out of focus, a testament to its otherworldly nature.

As Aufhocker stared into the wraith's eyes, he felt a chill run down his spine. The wraith's presence seemed to drain the warmth from the air around him, enveloping him in an aura of dread and despair. It hovered just beyond arm's reach, its wispy form casting eerie shadows upon the mist-covered deck.

At that moment of intense confrontation, Aufhocker drew upon his innate shapeshifting ability. With a surge of determination, he began to mimic the wraith's twisted visage. His features contorted, mirroring the malevolent grin and hollow eyes of the spirit before him. It was a desperate gambit, born of instinct and fueled by defiance against the supernatural menace that threatened him.

At that moment, the wraith's form wavered, its features contorting in confusion and malevolent gaze now turned inward, struggling to comprehend the reflection before it. The mist around them seemed to pulse with anticipation as the wraith confronted its own distorted image.

Malevolent spirits like the wraith preyed upon still vivid memories and fears and had no real mind or understanding of their own. It was as though his target just went away, and now a wraith that was himself was in front of him, with recent memories that ironically were the same as the ones he just had. As all wraiths look through the eyes of their victims and make sense through their perspective, it now saw a clone of itself, that it could not distinguish from itself. Even when it peered into Aufhocker's mind directly now, it would also see, what it sees now, itself through the eyes of itself.

As it stared in a drone-like fashion at its own reflection, it started to fade out, as though it disbelieved its own existence and with that losing its form as a result. Until eventually it dissipated entirely with the winds, and the oppressive aura lifted, leaving Aufhocker alone in the fog.

Breathing heavily, Aufhocker collapsed to his knees, the weight of the encounter pressing upon him. The lantern's fire dwindled to embers, casting long shadows across the deck. He was tired of this place, though physically unharmed, he was mentally completely drained.

Shifting his shape back to his own he grabbed onto the helm, and sailed the last bit to the end of the mist banks, with tired eyes.

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