We were no longer under the cold and were also offered food and warm water.

They said the water was going to get cold either way and the food would spoil without refrigeration, and I can see the sentiment. After all, the lines are probably broken at this point.

At first, we were wary, but eventually we warmed up, if not a little cautious. I’m currently watching over Yen, who’s shivering in her sleep; her clothes were changed, and she’s covered in a warm blanket.

It was a short confrontation, but the trauma and shock are... worse than I would like it to be. I once saw men go mental upon encounters on my last job; those things harnessed fear and terror. To not feel fear before them is impossible. The more one thinks about them, the worse it gets, until eventually someone loses it.

I gently touch her cheeks, making sure she’s still with me. I hope it won’t turn out that way. She’s a strong lady; I knew it from the first time we met face-to-face and I know she’s going to take it like a champ.

Slowly drinking a hot cup of coffee, I turned to the man of the family.

“We moved here last month, but I wish we didn’t,“ he said.

I nodded, and he continued.

“The beach was good, I occasionally enjoyed it every weekend with my family. Come to think of it, I do remember you. You are the one who often collects shells, right? ", he pointed out while guarding the door.

I cringed at the mention of it.

"Yeah, I used to have a collection...until now,” I replied.

He was about to speak but stopped as a rumbling sound boomed in the distance, accompanied by gunshots and screaming. He flinched, and I nearly dropped the coffee. The twin girls on the side stopped their games as well, and silence consumed the room until the rumbling became a fading backdrop among the droplets and thunder.

The rain never did stop, and I fear we might leave soon considering the risk of the tide rising in on us. There are dangers to living near a beach, and coastal flooding is one of them, caused by storm surges dumping excess water into the sea, as far as I heard.

The disturbance was gone, and the man continued talking despite the visible fear in his eyes. Perhaps it is a coping mechanism; I can never know, but I’m glad to have someone to talk to in this madness.

“I am Ben, by the way; those two are my daughters Grace and Gracia, and that is my wife,” he introduced.

I nodded. “Beautiful name; I’m Fhon.”

“Nice name”

“Yours too”

The chatter didn’t end there, Ben is a chatterbox, and that is a nice part of him. I wonder how he can stay sane with all of these things happening. His wife joined our charting, and her name is Angel, a lady with wrinkles of old age.

I don’t wish for the conversation to stop; perhaps I just don’t want to be reminded of our reality. I mean, who would?

“What is it like out there? “Angel hesitated before asking, and Ben perked up too.

I turned to look at their twin daughters, and let out a sigh.

"It's... yeah..." I can't bear to compete my sentence. I fear that admitting it means admitting that they are...dead.

Though, perhaps they can understand enough from my expression alone and I can't say I'm not relieved... in a way that I don't have to speak.

“Damn...” Ben, the chatty man, deflated, his eyes growing distant.

“Uh, sorry, I need to go.” She excuses herself before rushing up the stairs, and as she passed by, I saw some tears.

“Yeah, sorry...” I confirmed.

“How many? ” His eyes bore through mine.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

I shook my head. “I don’t know.“

The conversation stilled, and Ben grabbed my shoulder, whispering something the twins couldn’t hear.

He tried to smile and said, “You survived.“

I don’t know if I share the same sentiment, but it is better if I do; after all, survival is the goal from now on. A life composed of running away, escaping, and scraping at the bottom of the food chain.

I nodded. “Thanks.”

Launch came, but as we ate, there was no joy, just silence, even more dampened by the raging storm outside. Our feet splashed on the pool of water that had accumulated on the floor. It will flood, and we know that much, but do we really want to go outside? Will we even be safe out there?

I don't want to admit it, but even I don't want to go out there, even of the risk we have here include the same dangers. Perhaps it is safer here and maybe not, but it is more comfortable than hiding in the cold, always wary of any shadows at any corners. Can we really be blamed?

Yen has already woken up and is trying to smile, but she always finds her lips flattening into an emotionless expression.

“The meal is great,” Ben said with a laugh that quickly faded into awkward silence.

We nodded, not in the mood, not with the things we heard and witnessed. Can you truly be happy, and can you truly laugh, when you know something can just pop out and crush you beneath its feet? or worse? Absolutely not.

The meal went quickly, despite each of its seconds dragging on like minutes.

Mrs. Angel got the children upstairs, where it was dry, while we guarded the first floor.

I turned to Yen and said, “You should go upstairs.”

She shook her head and inched closer to me before sighing. I can feel her hesitation. Her nails are digging through my skin, though I'm not voicing my complaints. Eventually he eased up and let go of my arm.

"Maybe.” A soft whisper escaped her lips, and she also went upstairs after giving me a kiss on the cheeks.

Ben and I shared a gaze before nodding and positioning ourselves near any entrances. I, for one, burrowed the construction equipment he got and demolished some chairs before nailing them to the windows. Most of them are plastic chairs for parties, but they did help, and there are a lot of them.

I broke one and used the part where the butt met the chair to turn it into a shield. Sure, it is weak, but it is better than nothing, and by purpose, it is weak and fragile. After all, it should be fine to deflect one direct blow. If it is thicker, all the force from the blow will instead transfer to the arm and break some bones. The shield can be made strong, but the human body is not strong enough for the vile things out there.

I gave one to him, and he greatly appreciated it. The next shields I made were then delivered upstairs. Along with that, all the food was brought upstairs to save them from the water. In searching the kitchen, we found three knives, all of which were parts of a kitchen set, along with what Ben and his wife had. I was given one to use while guarding the first floor, though I have a much better plan for it.

Knives on their own are good, but they have a major problem, and that is 'reach.’ What point is there for a short blade if the potentially multi-limbed enemy is right in front of you? Humans arms are long, but our enemies can have longer limbs, and that is a disadvantage to us. That thing on the building has long legs; what can prevent the others from not having long legs?

Splitting the tip of a broken wooden mop handle, I wedged the knife in-between and wrapped the split tightly in straw, ensuring that it didn’t wiggle. Now, the handle can break, but that will give me potentially some time to distance myself, and the increased reach means I can do damage before they can.

I can mitigate the fracturing of the wood by wrapping it in duct tape, but that is a resource we don’t have.

I practiced it in the room until it felt comfortable on my hands. Paired with the plastic shield, it is a wonderful combination.

“Do you want me to do yours? ”I offered it to Ben, who is watching from the side.

He handed me his knife. “You know a lot.”

“I had some... some experiences”

More than I want to admit.

“It must be tough.”

“... It was”

I finished his after a while, the time mostly consumed by trying to find a suitable stick to attach the knife to. It belongs to a broken cue, which is a long stick in billiards that they use to assist another long stick if the ball gets too complicated to strike. I also found the sticks, and they will serve well for the twins.

Attaching the knife is done the same way, and it was relatively simple to do. Holding it in his hands, he swiped it around, and he smiled, satisfied.

The water is rising. From barely reaching our ankles, it is now nearing our knees, and the first floor will be half submerged soon enough. We might need to leave soon, something I... don't want to do.

We both shared a look.

“Want to go up? ”He asked.

I nodded.

Even if we can defend this floor, we are at a major disadvantage because moving in water is hard and will significantly slow us down.

Going upstairs, he stayed downstairs for a while to make sure nothing break in, and at that moment, my heart froze. From the corner, the twins stopped their playing and hugged their mother, visibly shaking.

Something hit the broken gate, generating enough splashing for us to hear in addition to the groaning metal.

From the window, it’s there, a vague figure thrashing under the water with too many fins, each ending in sharp points. The destroyed gate groaned against its brute force, twisting and pulling at the wall it was attached to. It attacked with wild fury.

It almost feels like it is. killing itself.

Thick blood spread from beneath with shreds of flesh, spreading and staining the walls red with splatters. Then it stopped, laying still.

That is when we noticed it, the thick smell of iron.

Gasps escaped their lips, tumbling backward from where we were watching. Even Ben, who followed up, fell on his knees.

“Jesus...”

...

The rain... is turning red.