A naked male figure rested upon a stone dais, within a small room with stone walls. The dais was cracked at the base, causing it to slant down towards the floor. But the floor couldn't be seen, as murky water had filled the room, up to the figure's feet.

His eyes opened, a breath of air filled his lungs. A pale white glow glimmered around the room from the surface of the water, coming from just outside the dilapidated and broken mausoleum he found himself in. He pulled himself further up the dais to get his feet out of the frigid water. He looked all around, as nothing seemed familiar. The air around him smelled fresh and salted, despite the dilapidated appearance of his surroundings.

"Where?" he spoke, letting the word hang in there air, before continuing. "Where am I?" he whispered.

He glanced around, but all he could make out were the cracked stone walls and the water that had filled the room. Where was the water coming from? He wondered. How'd he get here? His memories were hazy. All he could bring to the fore of his thoughts, were the images of large glass and metal towers all around him. It almost pained him to think about it. He refocused his thoughts and looked around the area.

There were no clothes around for him to put on. Perhaps there were clothes in the water? But how would he find them in the darkness? He could barely make out the confined room he was in, due to the glinting light coming from outside.

His green eyes looked to the doorway. It was in disarray. Part of the ceiling had collapsed and he couldn't see out beyond it at his current angle.

His bare hairless chest heaved as panic set in. How did he get here? Where was he? Why was he naked?

He slid slowly down the dais and tested the water with his toes, despite them already being wet. The water chilled him to the bone. He hoped he wouldn't have to be in it for long, especially without clothing. He shifted further down the dais and into the water. It came up to his thighs as his toes pressed to the smooth floor, hidden beneath the water. He waded over to the doorway. It wasn't far. A dozen feet, at most. He stepped carefully, not wanting to catch his bare foot on anything sharp that he couldn't see. He leaned down and peeked out the doorway. His eyes widened.

There was water, as far as the eye could see.

Was it some sort of ocean? He had no way of knowing. All he could see was the moonlight glinting off the surface of the water.

But that wasn't the only reflection upon the water. There was an almost rippling amber glow, coming from the left. His eyes followed it, but its source wasn't discernable from within the stone structure he found himself in.

He pushed through the water and maneuvered through the partially caved-in entrance. His foot sunk into the sand with his first step outside the doorway. Instinctively, he grabbed at the stone wall, but he only sunk about an inch. He moved his toes and feet and got his footing as he pushed away from the stone structure.

A chill breeze blew around him and ruffled his shoulder-length black hair. He shivered and crossed his arms. He rubbed his palms and fingers up and down his arms for several moments as he took several more steps.

His nakedness became all the more apparent, now that he was out in the open and still in the cold water. He turned his head and noticed that he was on the lower vestiges of a shore. The waves splashed in against the sand, leaving bubbles and foam in their wake. But as his eyes ran up the shoreline, he realized where the amber glow he'd seen earlier was coming from.

A large wooden ship with high sails was beached on the coast. Smoke billowed up against the white sails, darkening them with the thick ashen clouds. Fires buffeted the deck. There seemed to be figures moving. Shadowy outlines among the conflagration. But at his distance, he couldn't quite make them out.

He took several steps. His bare toes sunk into the sand, the waves caused the water to push him towards the shore. He waded through the waters at an angle. He wanted to go towards the ship. Were people in trouble? Was he from the ship? How had he ended up in that mausoleum? Should he try and help someone?

He couldn't move very fast and was still gaining his bearings. He looked further inland and saw a multitude of structures. A village? Some sort of coastal town? There were no lights coming from the town. At least there were no fires. It seemed eerily quiet, and dead.

His attention returned to the ship, just as an object fell from the top deck. He blinked. The image was blurry. Then, there was a noticeable splash in the water.

Nothing made sense. But he couldn't just watch and do nothing while others were in trouble. Whoever was on the ship, needed help.

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He set his sights on the vessel and moved at an angle so that he could run along the shore, since going through the water directly would take too long.

He could just barely make out the sounds of the crackling fires. Wind whistled and moaned through the rocks that formed jagged outcroppings behind the mausoleum. It was hard to make out his surroundings with just moonlight, and the illumination from the fiery ship.

The water was just getting to his knees, when his leg caught on something. He pulled his leg back and looked down, but the water was too dark to see what had snagged him.

Something squeezed his leg and pulled it back.

His eyes widened as the force caused him to fall face-first into the water. His hands caught him in the mushy sand. He kicked with his seized leg, as something sought to pull him out to the ocean. He pulled and clutched at the sand, trying to find purchase to pull from whatever was grabbing him.

His head turned as his heart raced. A shadowy silhouette loomed just beneath the gloomy water's surface behind him. The grip on his leg tightened. Another hand, or claw, or whatever it was, seized his foot.

"Help!" he cried out, just as he was pulled back again, forced to lose his grip in the sand as his face plunged beneath the water. He scrambled and clutched at the sand, his fingers sinking between the many pulpy grains. He pulled his head above the water long enough to suck in a breath of air before the salty water filled his mouth, causing him to choke and cough as he struggled against whatever sought to pull him beneath the water.

He kicked with his other leg, but his motions were severely subdued in the water. His heel planted against something slick and smooth. He shoved his foot, trying to kick off of it as best he could. The grip on his leg loosened. He kicked it and freed his foot from the other hand. He used those precious seconds to pull himself through the sand and water. His heart raced, his chest ached, he was coughing up the acrid salty water. He moved on hands and feet until his fingers crunched into drier sand.

He looked up just in time to see something glint in the moonlight. It streaked towards him. He thought it was going to hit him. He had no time to dodge it.

It shot past his head, whistling as it went.

The sharp crack of metal on bone came from behind him. Then, a shrill gurgling cry of some terrible monstrosity.

He turned his head, only long enough to see something looming out of the water. A shadowy shape, covered in glistening black scales. A pair of elongated arms rose up with webbed hands. It plucked the arrow from what could only be its strange fish-like head.

"Get out of the water!" a woman's voice shouted from far away, seemingly coming from the direction of the village.

With renewed vigor, he scrambled out of the last few inches of water and rose to his feet.

Sharp claws raked the back of his left arm.

"Ah!" he cried out as he stumbled forward from the pain that sought to encompass his entire arm. He winced and regained his footing. He pushed on, and ran. He didn't look back. He knew the creature was right behind him. He just hoped he could run faster than it.

"Over here! Come on!" came the woman's voice.

Another arrow sang through the air as it slipped past him. There was another audible cracking sound, and gurgling cry, slightly different than the last one.

His eyes darted around and spotted three figures on horseback near one of the dilapidated wooden structures of the town. They were on a makeshift road, that seemed to be made more of dirt, than sand.

The central figure had a sword that glinted in the moonlight. He couldn't tell their gender, but they seemed to be wearing some sort of armor and helmet. The other two figures were dressed similarly to each other, wearing dark black cloaks with their hoods hiding their faces. Their arms were stretched out, each wielding a bow. Their loosed arrows shot off towards him and smack into whatever was chasing him. Despite his burning curiosity, he didn't look back. He kept his sights on the three riders, running towards them.

"Just a bit further! Hurry!" came the woman's voice, as the central figure swung her sword from side to side. It seemed as though the armored figure, was a woman, and the one who was calling out to him.

Seconds stretched on for what felt like minutes, as more arrows shot by him. His arm burned with a strange intensity, but finally he reached the riders. The armored woman leaned down and stretched out her gauntlet-clad arm and hand.

"Come on!" she said urgently.

He had no idea how to get on the horse, his mind was frantic. He took her hand and felt himself being propelled upwards with a strange strength coming from the horseback rider. His foot caught on a rung from the saddle and he managed to lean up behind her. He sat back on the padded saddle, which he was thankful for, given his nakedness.

"Grab on!" the woman shouted.

With little time for comfort, he grabbed her dark gray cloak and held as tight as he could, while his body shook from cold and panic.

The woman tugged on the horse's reins and turned the beast to head further into the village. "Hyah!" she called, giving the reins another pull.

The horse trotted and worked up to a run, as the other two riders grabbed their reins and did the same. It was only now, in this relative moment of safety, that he looked back to the shore. He expected to see the monster still chasing after him. But the reality of the situation was far worse.

The beached ship continued to burn, casting its fiery glow across the nearby reaches of the shore, as the pale moon hung overhead.

Dozens of pitch-black forms lumbered onto the shore, heading for the village, while dozens more breached the water's surface, to lay their glassy gazes upon the fleeing riders.