Chaos reigns in the small departure lounge, the airline whose initials stand for ‘Leaving late Again’ is quite unsurprisingly, delayed.

The locals resigned by experience, sit upright in groups, bags on their laps talking quietly among themselves, seasoned travellers snooze on benches or the floor, one ear listening out for the tannoy. One older lady appears to be sleeping on a bench, head on an expensive backpack and covered with a sarong.

A group of American youngsters hog the centre, noisy overexcited, boasting of sexual exploits, rum drunk, mountains climbed and exactly which bands they saw at the island music festival.

The tannoy crackles into life, everyone falls silent, except one young lass in full flow telling a particular salacious tale, her voice now unnaturally loud in the quiet room. Everyone turns to look at her as she falls silent, her face now red.

Then the passengers start collecting up their bags, dropping paper coffee mugs into bins and setting off to line up and hoping to finally leave, the old lady swings her legs off the bench and folds up the sarong.

she catches the eye of the young beetroot coloured boaster and winks

“been there, done that, got the t-shirt”

she turns away and flicks her long white plait over her shoulder

the back of her shirt reads

Woodstock festival

50 year reunion

The waves rode on the rhythmic and wild percussion of the sea, climbing higher and higher, reaching a crescendo before, it crashed down. Water shot across the deck; drenching the passengers in a sudden downpour.

Cries and screams packed the air, vibrating in abject terror as the boat wailed and shook. However, the screams screeched to a halt as a witch-like cry sounded from above, a flash vision of red and orange, in the eerie, misty fog flooding the air surrounding the boat, as people; old and young huddled together; squeezed in close packs grasping each other in a death hold-- as knuckles paled to ghost white. Lips pulled into a tight line, wrinkles deepened on the skin, not a single soul dared to breathe.

The sea, a colour of harsh dark blue, continued to pound its waves vigorously against the boat without no mercy. The passengers stumbling and swaying, as they desperately with urgency, prayed. Meanwhile, in the boat's steer, a battle raged. Gerald was not your ideal man. Neither was he, a person of the sea. He was brash and young, not stern or wise and has no beard. However, inevitably he is a 'Tempest', as is his name proved, Gerald Tempest, so it is only fate that he will lose his life to the dangers that lurked in the sea. Just like the past generations.

Hands clutched on the steering wheels, the young man, used all of his force as he tried to manoeuvre the boat with a grim face. He was losing, fast. With each wave that reached him, causing to him slips slightly, the knot in his stomach twisted deeply-- not knowing which will be his last. In the distance, the thunder rumbled, lightning zapped; a light of purple-red flashing on the large block of ice sat in the middle of the dancing sea of lions.

His breath hitched, lips quivering uncontrollably, while his complexion of rosy skin paled considerably.

BANG! The door flung open behind him with a great thump in synch with his pounding heart. "Gerald!" A voice shouted as it shook with indescribable emotions. "It's here! It's here!"

Gerald's head snapped over his shoulder, eyes widening like saucers. Horror etched on his face.

.

.

.

Overhead, a howl of something dark, resonated.

Reina finished boarding up the last window just as night began to dawn, the navy blue sky casting down a mass of shadow. She stood in front of the wooden boards silently, the worn hammer hanging limply at her side. Reina had put all the effort she could muster into sealing the structure, but there was no guarantee it would hold. At this point, she could only hope the night would go well. Suddenly, an airy, shrill voice rung out, interrupting Reina's thoughts.

"Sis! There you are!" A young girl dashed over, two golden braids bouncing behind her. Reina turned toward her younger sister, a disapproving frown on her face.

"Ericka...What are you doing here? We told you to stay in the cellar," Reina said.

"I know, but I...I just worry about you guys so much. I hate having to stay down there and do nothing."

Reina sighed before leaning down and gently cupping the girl's round face. "Oh, Sweetie. You don't have to worry about us. Everything will be okay. We're strong, remember?"

Ericka sniffles a bit before whimpering out, "I know, but Mama used to say everything would be okay, too. And now...She's gone. I don't want you and Brother and Father to go away, too."

Reina's heart felt like it was tearing in two as she saw crystalline tears forming in her baby sister's eyes. She brushed a thumb over the hazel orbs, wiping warm tears away. Then, she stood, dropping the hefty hammer to the ground with a dull thud, and wrapped her tired arms around Ericka.

"Sweetheart, this isn't for you to worry about. All three of us will make it through this night, just as we have every night before. We're strong, and more importantly, we're cautious. As painful as it was...," Reina faltered a moment before holding her sister tighter and continuing." We've learned from losing Mom. We won't make those same mistakes again. All of us will survive this night. And you, little one, only need to focus on keeping safe. Do you understand?" Ericka nodded frantically, burying her damp face against Reina's abdomen.

" Alright, then. Go back to the cellar. You have nothing to worry about. I love you, Sweetheart. "

The young girl reluctantly pulled away and scampered off, uttering a faint, "I love you," in response.

Once Ericka had disappeared from sight, Reina unsheathed the trusty broadsword she always kept at her side. The silver blade glinted under the dim light of the hallway and glowed as Reina stepped down the stairs to join her father and brother. As the piercing howls of demons sounded in the night, and their tramping steps came closer to the house, a dozen thoughts flashed through Reina's mind.

Deep down, the girl wondered if she would be able to fulfill any of the promises she'd made her sister, or if all of them would end up being hollow words. Reina wondered if she would ever see that precious, beaming face again. The ruckus of razor sharp claws scraping across wood erupted, and as Reina set off to silence it, she pondered if her own home would become her grave.