As Jake and Alex guided their small boat onto the shore, they finally got a closer look at Menorca.

It was huge—much larger than they had expected.

From the maps and travel guides, they had imagined a quaint, lively island, filled with tourists, sunbathers, and families enjoying the serene beaches. But as they stepped onto the warm golden sand, something felt… off.

There was no one here.

No scattered beach umbrellas, no distant sounds of children laughing or vendors selling ice-cold drinks. Just the endless stretch of coastline, the rustling of palm trees, and the soft crash of waves against the shore.

Jake adjusted the straps of his backpack, exchanging a glance with Alex.

“Are we early or something?” Jake asked.

Alex scratched the back of his head, scanning the empty expanse. “I mean… it’s weird, right? The airport was packed. But here? It’s like we’ve got the whole island to ourselves.”

Jake pulled out his phone. No new messages. No updates from the booking office. Everything seemed in order.

“We did book a private beach,” he reminded Alex, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Maybe this part of the island just isn’t as popular.”

Alex grinned. “Or maybe the universe just decided to reward us with a VIP experience.” He stretched his arms wide, breathing in the sea air. “Not complaining.”

Jake chuckled, shaking his head. Maybe Alex was right. Maybe they had just lucked out.

With nothing but the open beach before them and the next three days to relax, they had no reason to think otherwise.

The beach stretched endlessly before them, untouched and pristine. The fine golden sand shimmered under the sun, its warmth instantly seeping into their feet as they stepped forward.

Unlike the beaches they had visited before, there were no fisher boats docked nearby, no clusters of footprints disturbing the smooth surface of the shore. Just the rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the coast and the occasional cry of seagulls overhead.

It was the kind of place that belonged on a postcard—beautiful, peaceful, almost surreal.

Jake inhaled deeply, the salty air filling his lungs. “This is insane,” he murmured.

“Right?” Alex grinned, tossing his backpack onto the sand. “A private beach, clear skies, zero noise pollution. This is the life.”

Jake was about to agree when something in the distance caught his eye.

Far out at sea, about five miles off the coast, a massive ship loomed against the horizon. It wasn’t a fishing boat, nor a cruise ship—it was large, industrial-looking, but strangely unmarked. No company logos, no visible name on the hull. Just a silent, gray giant sitting on the water.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Alex noticed it too. “Whoa. That’s weird.”

“You ever seen a ship like that?” Jake asked.

Alex shook his head. “Nope. But damn, it looks cool.”

Jake squinted. The ship was too far to make out any details, but something about it felt… off. It wasn’t moving, and no smaller boats were coming or going from it.

“Eh, maybe it’s some research vessel or something,” Alex shrugged, already digging into his bag. “Either way, it’s not our problem. We’re here to chill, remember?”

Jake hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Maybe he was overthinking it.

They pulled out their towels, spread them across the sand, and stretched out beneath the warm sun.

For now, everything was perfect.

The sun had shifted higher in the sky, casting shorter shadows across the sand. The ocean breeze had turned warmer, and the rhythmic crashing of waves had lulled them into a lazy, dreamlike state.

Jake stretched his arms, letting out a sigh. “Alright, I love the beach and all, but I’m starting to get bored.”

Alex groaned. “Finally! I thought you’d never say it.” He sat up, brushing sand off his arms. “There’s a shack up there—we could check it out, grab something to drink.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They pushed themselves up, the sand sticking to their damp skin. But just as they took their first steps toward the shack—

A sound tore through the air.

A deep, guttural roar, echoing across the ocean, shaking the ground beneath their feet. It wasn’t like thunder, nor like the distant calls of a whale. It was something else—a vibration that ran down their spines, primal and unnatural.

Jake and Alex froze in place. The hairs on the back of Jake’s neck stood up as the sound faded into the wind, leaving behind a heavy silence.

“What the hell was that?” Alex muttered.

Jake exhaled slowly. “Seismic activity, maybe? Those kinds of sounds happen sometimes with underwater shifts.”

Alex rubbed his arms, visibly shaken but trying to play it off. “Yeah… yeah, you’re probably right.”

But Jake wasn’t so sure.

Seismic activity? Sure. But that? That didn’t feel like any natural phenomenon. And the worst part? The sound had come from a couple of miles off the ship’s position.

He turned his gaze back toward the massive vessel, still stationed motionless in the water.

A strange feeling settled in his gut.

Still unsettled by the sound, Jake and Alex made their way toward the lone shack nestled at the edge of the beach. It was a small wooden structure, its paint faded by the sea air, with a slanted roof and a few plastic chairs arranged outside. A handwritten menu was pinned to the front, listing drinks and local seafood dishes in a mix of Spanish and broken English.

Inside, an elderly man with tanned, wrinkled skin stood behind the counter, wiping a glass with a rag. His eyes flickered toward them, and he gave a small nod of acknowledgment.

“Two beers,” Alex said, slapping some cash onto the counter. He glanced at Jake, who hesitated before nodding.

“And some food,” Jake added. “Whatever’s fresh.”

The man grunted, moving toward the back to prepare their order. The shack was quiet, aside from the distant crash of waves and the faint hum of a radio playing a Spanish song.

Jake leaned against the counter, his fingers tapping lightly on the wood. After a moment, he cleared his throat.

“Hey, uh… those sounds we heard earlier. Are they common around here?”

The man paused. His grip on the glass tightened slightly before he set it down. He turned to them, his face serious.

“No, sir,” he said, his English broken but clear enough. “Not common. Never heard before… until that ship docked here.”

Jake straightened up. “You think it has something to do with it?”

The man wiped his hands on his apron and nodded firmly. “Sí. I am sure. Strange things happen since it came.”

A chill ran through Jake’s spine. He turned to Alex, expecting a similar reaction.

But Alex just grinned and shook his head.

“Man, you’ve been watching way too many movies lately,” he said, taking a sip of his beer. “Creepy noises, mysterious ships? It’s probably nothing.”

Jake wanted to argue, but Alex just patted his shoulder.

“We’re here to relax, remember?”

Jake sighed, forcing himself to let it go.