First Brian heard the wind, then the ocean, or what he thought was the ocean, except it sounded as though wads of cotton were shoved in his ears. Someone was laughing and Brian was cold. Lying on his side, he couldn’t feel his hands and couldn’t lift himself up. It felt as though his tongue had been cut from his mouth. He blinked, but it was dark. Flashes of dark red shuttered across his field of vision. He felt his breath as every exhale blasted back into his face. The red flashes increased in frequency and size, growing larger, as though something was cresting to the surface in a pool of black water. Waves of red emerged from the black, soundless. It was coming closer to him. He tried lifting his head and something, someone, held it down. The force was gentle yet firm. Brian couldn’t feel his legs. Did he still have legs? Maybe this was his new world, the red and black liquid that reeked of his breath and sounded like waves of cotton. Perhaps he didn’t need legs, or arms, or a mouth in this new world. Someone was talking next to him, muffled voices speaking back and forth—one voice deep, the other soft, higher pitched.
Her.
Yuki.
He’d been taking her away, and then she’d held a handkerchief to his face whilst he’d sneezed, only he hadn’t needed to sneeze, it had been something else. Whatever it was, it was coming for him, through the red, through the black, through the cotton candy waves.
Hands grasped at his shoulders and pulled him upright to his knees. He couldn’t hear the ocean anymore, only the sound of feet shuffling on the ground. He started to fall forward—someone supported him until he regained his balance. Still wobbling, Brian realised falling down was something they didn’t want him to do. Whoever they were.
The sound of the wind and the light of the moon ripped through the black and red.
Now he saw.
A man stood in front of Brian, a small cardboard box to his right, near to bursting, hoods spilling out of the top.
A hood, that was what had been on his head.
They hadn’t wanted him to see what was going on until now.
Brian looked around. He was right about the ocean. They were on the beach. A large outcrop of rock cast a shadow over Brian, whilst the flames from two lit torches kissed and licked the shadows.
Brian was not alone.
There was the man, of course, but there were others too. The man stood in front of him, wearing a red robe. What looked like a tattoo snaked out of the garment and halfway up his neck. Ink almost as red as his robe. This was the man Brian had seen outside the apartment complex, looking up at Her window, the same man whose house he’d entered with all that surveillance equipment. To his left, three men, bound like Brian, with their hands behind their backs and gags in their mouths, knelt in the sand. That was why Brian couldn’t feel his tongue. He was also gagged. To his right, another kneeling man. He, too, was bound and gagged. In front of each man stood a woman wearing a black robe.
There was a woman in front of Brian.
He arched his neck to look up at her.
Yuki stared back—her eyes black in the moonlight.
Her.
The tide was coming in. The man said something in a language Brian couldn’t understand and all the women took off their robes. They were naked—the moonlight making their bodies glow. Softly, the man began to chant, and the women danced. Slowly at first, gyrating to an invisible beat driven by the man’s low voice. The waves were coming in harder now, Brian could hear them over the chanting. Spray misted his face.
As much as he wanted to, Brian couldn’t take his eyes off Her. She danced in front of him, just as she had so many times before, only now it apparently meant something.
The man’s chant grew louder. He was practically shouting, his voice echoing over the waves, louder and louder, and the waves came in faster and faster.
Yuki stepped forward and placed her hands on Brian’s shoulders. He closed his eyes as her soft pubic hair grazed his nostrils, his cheeks, his lips.
He opened his eyes and saw the other women also held the shoulders of the men kneeling before them.
Water lapped at his legs. The tide was coming in, but Brian could no longer hear the waves over the man’s chanting. Brian felt a pressure in his chest. Light at first, it turned more painful by the second as the tide came in around them. A sharp pain in his abdomen made it difficult to breathe.
Yuki let go of his shoulders and stepped back, her eyes never leaving Brian’s gaze. The other women did the same. The man was silent now, and all Brian could hear was the sound of the waves crashing against the rock.
That’s when the screaming began.
The man to his right howled, his voice high and loud. Brian watched as the man arched his back, then fell forward into the sand. His eyes were looking right at Brian but focused on some far-off vision only he could see.
As the man’s eyes dilated, a trickle of blood leaked from his open mouth.
He was dead.
The man to Brian’s far left arched his back, moaning as pain wracked his body. When he fell forward, Brian could see the whites of his eyes. Blood frothed from the man’s mouth, pooling under his head. The pain in Brian’s chest was worse now, throbbing.
The man directly next to Brian began to convulse. He fell forward and rolled over on his side, shitting himself in the process. Brian watched as the man stared at him for a second. He was trying to bring his arms forward, though they were still bound tightly behind him. The man strained and Brian grimaced when the man’s arm broke from the force, his elbow hyperextended. The man’s face flushed red, and a blood bubble foamed from his mouth and popped, throwing sticky phlegm on the sand.
There were only two men left kneeling. Brian could barely breathe. It felt as though metal bands were clamped around his ribcage. He looked at Her frantically, his eyes pleading.
She stared back, her face expressionless.
The kneeling man fell over and didn’t move. Brian could see his face—he knew this man.
Ted!
They’d roughed him up pretty good. No doubt Ted had put up a fight. His face was puffy and bruised. Brian wondered how they’d gotten the best of him. Ted’s expression lay vacant—he was damn near unconscious, oblivious to everything happening around him. Had they drugged him? Forced him into obedience? What if Ted had been right all along? Had intended to remain true to his word and yet …
Oh Christ, Ted, what have they done to you?
Blood poured from Ted’s mouth. So much blood, much more than the others. Crimson pooled in the sand, a thick line rolling to where Brian knelt. The blood trail slipped under his knees, soaking his trousers. There was so much red, the moonlight reflected in it. Tears streamed down his face, falling from his chin, and mixing with the blood.
He’d never seen anyone bleed like that. Had they poisoned Ted? Would that make him bleed internally like that? Or was something else at play?
Brian closed his eyes, heart pounding, unable to breathe, clenching his muscles in anticipation of whatever was coming his way. His torso and chest throbbed erratically with his pulse. He tried to take a full breath, but only got a little air in his lungs. When he exhaled, his throat wheezed.
Laughter.
Someone was laughing.
He opened his eyes and saw the man in the red robe standing before him, cackling. The moonlight waned as though darkened by clouds, then the sky exploded in brilliant white light. The entire beach illuminated. Waves crashed violently at the shore, sending water high into the air. A rushing sound filled Brian’s head, though he was uncertain if it was the ocean or the moon or something his mind conjured up. The man’s robe loosened, falling partially open to reveal a full body tattoo—a complex piece with aquatic motifs, not dissimilar from the symbols and illustrations he’d seen in the man’s house, peppering the wallpaper in the surveillance room. The man pointed at the sky, at the moon, and cackled with laughter. Moonlight bathed his body. Jumping up in the air, the man landed on his feet, then fell to the ground, laughing so hard he wheezed. Pulling himself up, the man ran into the ocean, leaping into the waves, his red robe flapping in the wind until it hit the water. It ballooned out for a second, before wrapping around him.
The light in the sky dimmed.
Everything returned to normal. The waves rolling in with less ferocity, their crashes on the beach nothing more than slight ripples. Black clouds rolled across the sky, moving swiftly over land.
The other women had their robes back on and were dragging the dead men around the outcrop of rock. Yuki leant over Brian, working her hands behind his back, untying the rope that kept him bound. She pulled the gag from his mouth and Brian took a deep breath. He coughed, clearing his throat. His chest still hurt, but not as bad as before. At least he could breathe.
Yuki looked down at him. The sky turning light—the sun coming up. She started to say something, then shook her head.
“This was all some kind of sick game?” Brian asked.
“Not a game.”
“Then what is all of this?”
Her lips formed a thin smile. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Brian pulled himself up. “Are you going to leave me here? I don’t even know what the hell happened. The police will want to know.”
“And you will tell them what? By the time they get here, we’ll be long gone, and no one will ever believe you.”
“What about the man? Is he okay with this?”
“Who the hell do you think’s running this? He answers to me.”
“But he was watching you.”
Yuki laughed.
“So that’s it?” Brian said. “Everything was a lie. Our date, everything?”
Yuki stopped laughing. “Not everything.”
“Oh, piss off then. Just … go. Leave me alone.”
She leant over Brian and put her face close to his. “Not everything was a lie. It’s better this way.”
“What is this way? I don’t understand.”
Yuki stood up. “Maybe you never will.”
“What if I had never seen you dancing? What if I had never watched you?”
Yuki smiled. “But you did watch me, didn’t you?”
“I was just trying to …” But he’d promised Yuki there’d be no more lies and he’d meant it. “I did,” he said. “I watched.”
“You came here. You watched. You were complicit. You made it happen. You didn’t have to look through the hole, but you did.”
“Yet you spared me? Left me here to tell everyone what happened?”
This was madness, pure insanity. No one would ever believe it, would ever believe him.
Yuki held Brian’s knife high in the air. “What makes you think I spared you?”
He looked down at the red on the ground. Most of what he’d thought was Ted’s blood pooling around him wasn’t Ted’s at all. It was his. Brian watched as the slash in his torso spilt blood down his legs. He screamed, the sound echoing in his ears.
Yuki brought the knife to Brian’s neck and drew it across his throat.
His neck felt hot. Fresh blood gushed from the wound, dancing with the red from his abdomen, mixing with Ted’s blood.
Brian fell over in the sand and stared up at her, his vision fading. Every time he blinked, it was as though his life was winking out from him. Everything turning to smoke. The last thing Brian saw before his vision shifted to black was Her face.
The other women joined Yuki and together they grabbed Brian by the shirt, pulling him towards the old rusted-out car parked in the sand behind the rocks. The man, now wearing old jeans and a ratty t-shirt, helped lift Brian’s limp body into the boot of the car. Two of the women went back behind the rocks, covering blood with sand, bare feet kicking dunes. The old car drove across the sand to the beach’s paved entrance and parked next to a maroon Ford Focus in the parking area. The two women who’d covered the blood walked from the beach to the cars, taking their seats in the back of the Ford. A smartphone lit up on the driver’s seat, the screen showing nineteen missed calls from Helen. One of the women leant forward to retrieve the phone and unwound the car window. She lobbed the handset towards the road with as much care as they’d afforded the men’s bodies, its screen smashing on the concrete.
A figure stood on the pavement, away from the cars. She wore a long overcoat and black boots—her pink hair lifting in the gentle breeze. She stood motionless, watching the ocean, the back and forth of the black waves, ebbing and flowing, ebbing and flowing.
Endless.
Forever.