What Now I Desire Chapter One ― Awakening

They came. And you, sacred one, Smiling with deathless face, asking What now, while I suffer: why now I cry out to you, again: What now I desire above all in my Mad heart. Whom now, shall I persuade To admit you again to her love, Sappho, who wrongs you now?

If she runs now she’ll follow later, If she refuses gifts she’ll give them. If she loves not, now, she’ll soon Love against her will. Come to me now, then, free me From aching care, and win me All my heart longs to win. You, Be my friend.

―Excerpt from a poem by Sappho, isle of Lesbos, circa 640 BCE

The world slowly drifted into focus as Candace Robinson opened her eyes to a bright, unrelenting sun. Waves lapped softly at her feet, and her fingers dug into wet, gritty sand. Her head throbbed with a dull ache, and the sharp taste of salt lingered on her tongue. She turned her head, the motion sending a stab of pain through her temple, before spotting her friend’s mother lying nearby, half-buried in the sand.

“Mrs. Walker!” Candace croaked, her throat dry and voice hoarse. She forced herself upright, her arms trembling as she propped herself up. “Mrs. Walker, wake up!”

Amanda stirred, her lips twitching silently before she groaned and shielded her eyes from the sun with one hand. “Where… where are we?” Her Texan drawl cracked under the strain, her usually polished demeanor stripped away. She squinted around, her gaze darting to Candace. “Candace? What happened?”

“The yacht… we must’ve shipwrecked,” Candace said, the memory crashing into her like a rogue wave. The storm, the screaming, the relentless pull of the sea―it all blurred together in a chaotic spiral. “I don’t know where everyone else is.”

Amanda sat up, brushing sand from her face with trembling fingers. Her clothes―what remained of them anyway―clung to her in damp folds, her immaculate strawberry-blonde hair a tangled mess. “Trinity… Bethany…” She staggered to her feet, swaying as she shaded her eyes to survey the beach. She had to find her precious daughters.

Candace stood beside her, muscles protesting with every movement. The beach stretched out in a crescent, a thin strip of sand hugged by a dense wall of green. The turquoise water of the bay sparkled deceptively serene, as if mocking the chaos that had brought them there. Coral reefs peeked through the shallows, their vivid colors a stark contrast to the ominous unknown that loomed beneath the waves.

“We need to find the others,” Candace said, her voice gaining strength. “Mom, Rina, Trinity, Bethany… they’ve got to be close by.”

Amanda nodded curtly, already cupping her hands around her mouth. “Trinity! Bethany!” she called, her voice rising with urgency. This was supposed to be a nice vacation, a relaxing boat trip for the six of them to circle around the Samoan islands, and then fly to Australia for the girls’ next gymnastics competition. Instead, it felt like they had been tossed into hell.

“Rina!” Candace shouted, scanning the shoreline. “Mom!” Candace hoped they found the others soon so they could take shelter. While her tan skin could withstand some sun thanks to her Asian heritage, Mrs. Walker’s pasty white skin was already developing a pink hue everywhere. Without sunscreen, she was sure to burn to a crisp before long.

They moved along the beach, their voices echoing into the oppressive silence. The only response was the rustling of palm fronds in the breeze and the distant crash of waves. Fear grasped at Candace’s heart: what if her dear little sister Rina had been claimed by a watery grave? No, no… she wouldn’t allow the thought to take root. She had to find her. She flung about her eyes, searching desperately for anything, any sign of life. Then, as they neared the water’s edge, Candace froze.

“There!” She pointed out into the bay, her heart lurching.

Two figures bobbed in the surf, struggling to swim toward them, one head crowned with straight, black hair, and the other with curly blonde. Rina and Bethany. Their movements were sluggish, their heads barely above the surface. Something about the way they moved was wrong, unnatural, as if the water were pulling them back with every stroke.

“Bethany!” Amanda cried, running toward the waterline. “Swim, baby! Swim to me!”

“Rina! What’s wrong?” Candace yelled, her feet splashing into the surf. Her stomach twisted as she noticed Rina’s arms flailing weakly, her face pale against the shimmering blue.

“I… I can’t…” Rina’s voice was faint, carried by the wind. She coughed violently, her body dipping under for a moment before resurfacing.

Amanda’s frantic cries filled the air as she waved her arms at the struggling figures in the water. Candace stood paralyzed, chest heaving, her gaze locked on her sister and Bethany. Then she saw it: the erratic splashing near the girls wasn’t just their desperate attempts to swim.

Something else was moving beneath the surface.

“Wait,” Candace whispered, squinting as the sunlight glinted off the water. She took a step forward, her heart pounding. “They’re caught up in something,” Candace realized aloud. Her sharp eyes caught the faintest hint of movement beneath the water―a dark, sinuous shape filling the gaps between the coral.

The splashes suddenly grew more violent. Rina screamed, the sound high-pitched and piercing, as she slapped at the water around her. The dark form broke the surface, fragmenting into many writhing pieces before disappearing into the depths again.

“Oh my stars.” Amanda’s voice was choked, trembling as she clutched Candace’s arm. “Eels. Those are eels. They’re everywhere!”

Candace’s stomach flipped as she realized Amanda was right. The shimmering water around Rina and Bethany churned with movement, countless slick, wriggling shapes encircling them like living shadows. Their thin, whip-like bodies glistened in the sunlight, twisting and darting in chaotic patterns.

“They’re swarming!” Amanda shouted, her eyes wild. “We have to do something! Now!”

Candace tore her gaze away and scanned the beach desperately. There had to be something―anything―they could use to reach the girls. Her eyes landed on a bulky shape partially hidden by a pile of seaweed and debris further up the shore.

“There!” Candace pointed, sprinting toward it. Amanda followed, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

It was a lifeboat, its orange sides faded and scuffed but mostly intact. The oars were still strapped to the interior, though one looked cracked. It didn’t matter. It was their only chance.

“Help me!” Candace yelled, gripping the edge of the boat. Together, they heaved it free from the sand, dragging it toward the water. The lifeboat groaned and shifted, heavier than they expected, but adrenaline fueled their movements.

“Hurry!” Amanda cried, glancing back toward the bay. Rina’s splashes had weakened, her head barely above the water, silent while Bethany’s screams had intensified. Amanda’s baby-girl was fending off the eels with feeble swipes, but the swarm kept closing in, snapping and darting.

“We’re coming!” Candace shouted toward the water, her throat raw with panic. They reached the edge of the surf and shoved the lifeboat into the shallows. The waves tugged at it, and Amanda clambered in first, grabbing the oars and bracing herself as Candace pushed them further out.

“Get in!” Amanda called, her face drenched with sweat and glowing red from sun and exertion.

Candace vaulted into the boat, the sudden motion sending it rocking wildly before Amanda steadied it. They began paddling furiously, the cracked oar wobbling with each stroke but holding just enough to propel them forward, salt spray stinging their faces.

As they approached the girls, Candace’s stomach tightened at the sight. The eels were relentless, weaving around Rina and Bethany in frenzied coils. One lunged at Bethany’s leg, its sleek body breaking the surface before slithering back into the depths. She shrieked, jerking her leg away.

“Keep fighting!” Candace yelled, her voice cracking. “We’re almost there!”

Amanda leaned forward, her knuckles white on the oars. “Dear Lord, protect us,” she murmured, her eyes locked on the scene before her. Oh how she wished she had never taken her girls on that cursed yacht…

―The previous night―

The yacht gently sliced through the dark waters of the Pacific, the only sounds the rhythmic lapping of waves against the hull and the occasional burst of laughter from the stern. The air was warm and salty, the sky above a vast expanse of glittering stars. At the back of the yacht, the girls were sprawled across deck chairs and leaning over the railing, their banter punctuated by teasing jabs and peals of laughter.

“I’m telling you, Trinity, you’re not going to be sticking any landings in Sydney next week if you keep eating all those snacks,” Candace teased, a grin tugging at her lips as she popped a piece of dried mango into her mouth. Even with two moms onboard, Candace couldn’t hide her own motherly instincts, even in teasing her friend. Besides, as the only former Olympian among them, Candace had to at least try and set an example.

Trinity rolled her eyes, flipping her long, dirty blonde hair over her shoulder, her lightly freckled face already assuming her “yes mother” expression mockingly. “Oh, please. I’ll stick them, no problem. Maybe you should focus on something other than being Miss Perfect Gymnast.”

Rina giggled from her deck chair, the only girl who had stayed in her swimsuit after dinner and was now predictably huddling under a blanket for warmth. She clutched her phone as she filmed the exchange, her dainty face peeking out from the curtain of her long, black hair. Trinity was the one who could really bring Rina out of her shell, which Candace appreciated―most of the time. “I don’t know, Trinity. Candace did already win a medal.”

“Yeah, and you’re lucky that doesn’t mean anything now,” Trinity shot back, her tone playful but with an edge. She was the most competitive and energetic of them all, and she would be damned if Candace showed her up again this year. “We all have to qualify again, so it’s anyone’s game. Just watch, I’m going all the way for gold this time.”

Bethany, sitting cross-legged in a tank-top and shorts with her nose buried in a worn Bible, chimed in softly. “Maybe we should all just pray for each other’s success. That’s what really matters.”

The group fell momentarily silent before bursting into laughter, even Bethany cracking a shy smile at her unintentional punchline, absentmindedly brushing at whisps of her curly, pale blonde hair. Truth be told, Bethany didn’t care much about qualifying, but her mother had insisted she put her slender body through the same training as the others, if for no other reason than to develop a more feminine shape, given her natural tomboyish frame.

At the bow of the yacht, Amanda and Julie leaned against the railing, wine glasses in hand, their polished appearances softened by the glow of the yacht’s running lights. They were dressed as if going to a gala, the perfect image of a modern southern lady and a half-Asian matriarch. The tension between them, always simmering beneath the surface, was masked with the thin veneer of polite conversation.

“The qualifiers are going to be brutal this year,” Julie remarked, swirling her wine and staring into the endless ocean. “But I suppose that’s the price of greatness.”

Amanda offered a tight smile. “Brutal, yes, but nothing my girls can’t handle. Bethany’s been working so hard, bless her heart. And Trinity… well, she has such natural talent. It’s almost unfair to the others.”

Julie tilted her head, her expression unreadable. “Natural talent is wonderful, of course. But talent only takes you so far. Discipline and perseverance―that’s what really counts.” She took a measured sip of her wine, her voice softening. “I try to remind my girls of that all the time. You know, with everything going on at home, it’s important for them to stay focused.”

Julie had always taken a firm hand with raising her daughters, just like her own mother had with her. A tradition-passed down through the generations of women on the Japanese side of her lineage. Honor, propriety, family―all important concepts which her white husband tended to undermine. Julie placed blame for any unruliness from the girls solely on his shoulders.

Amanda arched an eyebrow, sensing an opening. “Troubles at home? I hadn’t realized. I suppose it’s hard for men like your husband―so much pressure, running all those companies.”

Julie’s jaw tightened, but she forced a smile. “Oh, nothing serious. Just the usual―too many late nights at the office. I’m sure you understand. Your husband must be busy, too.”

“Oh, not at all,” Amanda said, her voice light but her smile sharp. “James makes sure to prioritize the Lord and his family above all else. He’s been such a rock for us. His work with the church has truly made him a saint in our lives.”

Julie’s grip on her glass tightened. James Walker had built an ecclesiastical empire through the megachurch he served as head pastor over. Donations from wealthy friends and businessmen more often than not lined his pockets instead of the charities that his church ran. Or so Julie surmised. Amanda, friend that she was, certainly reveled in playing the bitch at times. “A saint? That’s a high bar, even for a husband like yours.”

Amanda’s smile widened. “Oh, he’s the spiritual leader of our household, of course. But we both know I handle the day-to-day matters. He always says I’m the brains of the operation.” Her laugh was delicate but pointed. “It’s a partnership, you know.”

Julie turned away, the corners of her mouth twitching. A partnership would certainly describe Julie’s marriage as well, but that was not what she had dreamed it would be. It might have started like the dream she had hoped for, but it hadn’t been long after the birth of her two daughters before that dream began to fade away. “Of course. That’s wonderful. Speaking of partnerships, I was just saying to Candace the other day how proud I am of her. That bronze medal at her age―unbelievable. And Rina’s coming along nicely, too. I’ve no doubt Candace will medal again, and maybe even Rina will make it to the podium this time.”

“That’s lovely,” Amanda said, her voice deceptively sweet. “I’ll be sure to pray for their success. And for your family.” She paused, savoring the moment. “And I know my girls will be giving it their all. They’ve been so committed to the Lord and their training. It’s a blessing to see their faith guiding them.”

Julie drained the last of her wine, her composure visibly straining. Why did Amanda always make Julie feel like she wasn’t enough as a mother―that her daughters were always less pure, less obedient than her own? Because it might be true, Julie thought. There was so much that both Candace and Rina hid from her now, so many terrible possibilities that her mind had fabricated to fill that void of what they did not tell her.

Julie shook herself free of her dark thoughts. “Well, here’s to all the girls. May the best of them shine the brightest.” She set her glass down on the railing and turned, her tone clipped but civil. “Excuse me. I need to check on something.”

Amanda watched her go, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she sipped her wine. She walked a fine line between needling her friend to death and genuinely enjoying the woman’s companionship, but that was what made Julie so entertaining to play with. The soft hum of the engine and the girls’ laughter carried through the night, the calm sea reflecting the moonlight in fractured streaks.

Neither woman noticed the dark clouds gathering far on the horizon, nor the faint rumble of distant thunder.

At the back of the yacht, the girls’ laughter had subsided into a comfortable rhythm, the kind of ease that came after hours spent in each other’s company. Rina was reclined on a deck chair hidden beneath a blanket, phone in one hand while her other remained under the cover, the glow of the screen illuminating her face as she listened to something on her earbuds. Rina had begged her parents into getting her a sat-link for her phone, just so she didn’t have to be cut off from her social media while traveling. Her fingers danced over the screen, sometimes scrolling for a bit before pausing to make a focused expression for awhile, oblivious to the others as her gray eyes absorbed the images that appeared on her phone.

Trinity, lounging nearby with a mischievous grin, watched her friend’s shy younger sister for a bit before she leaned over and nudged her. “Hey, Rina, what’s so interesting on that phone of yours? You looking for a boyfriend or something?”

Rina’s head shot up, her cheeks flaming. Her free hand pressed the phone against her chest, hiding the screen from view, while the other hand quickly snaked out from beneath the blanket. “What? No! I’m just… I’m just looking at stuff!” she stammered, clutching the phone to her chest as though it were a lifeline.

“Oh, sure,” Trinity teased, her grin widening. She hadn’t really seen Rina’s screen, but she had caught a glimpse of muscular skin before it had been hidden. “Stuff. Like cute guys? Maybe some flirty DMs? You’re blushing, Rina. Come on, you can tell us.”

Rina squeaked, yanking the blanket over her head. She would die if the other girls found out about her secret addiction, or her most recent tastes in viewing material. Her mother would certainly give her a quick death if she ever learned of it, anyway. So, Rina fumbled through a lie instead. “I’m- I’m not looking at anything like that! It’s just college stuff! Leave me alone!”

“Yeah―college stuff…” Trinity smirked, making air quotes with her hands. She had long suspected that Candace and Rina, like her, merely kept up appearances for their mother’s sake. Bethany on the other hand was thoroughly virtuous, which vexed Trinity to no end. The girl was incorruptible.

Bethany, who had been watching the exchange with a frown, crossed her arms and shot her sister a disapproving look. Trinity loved to torment, whether it was her, their friends, or the occasional poor animal. Bethany hated that about her. “Trinity, stop being so mean. Rina doesn’t have a dirty mind like you do. She actually cares about learning once she gets to University this fall. Maybe you should stop being so boy-crazy for once.”

Trinity laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, please. I’m not boy-crazy. I just know how the world works, Bethany. Unlike you, God’s favorite little princess.”

“That’s blasphemy,” Bethany said, her tone exasperated. “And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to stay chaste until marriage. You should be focusing on gymnastics, not… whatever it is you’ve been doing in the backseat of Brad’s car on Friday nights. You know how the Lord feels about our virtue, you could at least pretend like you care about it.”

Trinity fumed. She had hoped by the time Bethany was out of high school she would have loosened up a bit, but the recent graduate showed no signs of stepping down off her pedestal. Trinity was just about ready to let her sister have it when Candace chimed in, her voice low and warning. “Trinity, cut it out. You know my mom doesn’t like us talking about boys, especially not like this. If she hears us, we’re all going to get an earful.”

Trinity smirked, her blue eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, Candace, you shouldn’t be so worried about your mom hearing about the time I’ve spent hanging out with frat guys. You should probably worry a lot more what your mom would think about, well… your own interactions with a man.”

Candace’s light brown eyes widened, and she froze, her face draining of color. “What are you talking about?”

Bethany tilted her head, her hazel eyes glancing between them. “What does that mean? Candace, what is she talking about?”

“Nothing,” Candace said quickly, her voice a touch too sharp. She forced a laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Trinity’s just being her usual self―trying to stir up drama.”

“Exactly,” Trinity said, winking. “It’s nothing. For now.”

Bethany narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced, but before she could press further, a sharp crackle from the yacht’s radio system broke through their conversation. All the girls turned toward the sound as the synthesized voice from the Coast Guard came through, its modulated tone belying the sudden tension shared by the yacht’s passengers.

“Storm warning: Southeast wind stent of 20-25 knots becoming south-to-southeast 45-50 knots in the late evening. Seas of 8-12 feet. Heavy showers tonight. Urgent safety protocols and shelter-in-place are in effect.”

Candace’s stomach dropped, and she exchanged a worried glance toward her sister. Rina peeked out from under her blanket, her eyes wide with fear. “A storm? How bad is it?”

Trinity waved her off, though her usual bravado was tinged with unease. “It’s probably just a little rain. No big deal. They always make it sound worse than it actually is back along the gulf, too.”

Before anyone could respond, Amanda and Julie appeared at the edge of the deck, their faces set with matching looks of concern. Amanda’s tone was clipped as she pointed toward the stairs leading below deck. “Girls, now is not the time for arguing. Get to your room and stay there until we say it’s safe. Do you understand?”

“But―” Trinity started, until Julie cut her off with the characteristic sharpness she usually reserved for her own daughters. For a half-Asian woman, she seemed oddly proud whenever she could embody the cold disdain of a fictional dragon lady.

“Right Now. Go.” Julie insisted.

The girls exchanged nervous looks but obeyed, filing down the stairs in silence. As Candace followed behind them, she caught a glimpse of her mother and Amanda standing at the railing, gazing out at the horizon where dark clouds loomed like a wall of ink. The rising wind tugged at their hair, carrying the distant rumble of thunder.

For the first time that night, the laughter and teasing gave way to quiet apprehension.

Julie Robinson woke with a start, her head pounding and the taste of salt and bile lingering in her mouth. She pushed herself upright, groaning as pain lanced through her side. The world around her was dim, the light filtering in through jagged holes in the yacht’s hull casting eerie shadows over the tilted space.

She blinked, her mind struggling to process the scene. The interior of the yacht was a mess of overturned furniture, shattered glass, and scattered belongings. A warm breeze whispered through the cracks, carrying the earthy scent of vegetation.

“Where…?” Julie’s voice was hoarse, barely audible. Then she spotted Trinity Walker a few feet away, curled against a splintered wall. The girl stirred, clutching her arm.

“Trinity,” Julie said, crawling toward her. “Are you hurt?”

Trinity groaned, her eyes fluttering open. “What… happened? Where are we?”

“I don’t know,” Julie admitted, her voice trembling. “The storm… I think we’re on an island. But―” She paused, looking around. Something was wrong. The angle of the floor, the faint creaking beneath them. “The yacht… it’s not on the ground.”

Trinity’s eyes widened as she sat up, wincing. “What do you mean, not on the ground?”

Julie pointed toward a jagged opening in the hull. Through it, they could see the forest below―thick with tropical vegetation and bathed in greenish light. The yacht was lodged in the canopy, precariously balanced among a cluster of tall trees.

Trinity crawled to the opening, peering out. “Oh my God,” she whispered, gripping the edge. “We’re stuck up here?”

Julie nodded grimly, scanning the wreckage. “We need to find a way down. And we need supplies.”

Trinity pulled back from the opening, her face pale. “What about the others? My mom, my sister? Candace and Rina? Where are they?”

“I don’t know.” Julie’s tone softened, but her expression remained firm. “We’ll look for them. But first, we have to get down safely.”

The two began rummaging through the wreckage, gathering anything useful. Julie found a half-full water bottle and a first aid kit lodged under a broken chair. Trinity unearthed a flashlight, miraculously intact, and a knife from a utility drawer. They stuffed their findings into a tattered backpack Julie had pulled from a cabinet.

The air was heavy with tension as they worked, the only sounds the rustling of leaves and the occasional groan of the yacht shifting in its precarious perch. Then a new noise broke the silence―a low, rhythmic crashing, like something large moving through the vegetation below.

Julie froze, her hand tightening around the strap of the backpack. Trinity looked up, her eyes wide with fear. “What was that?”

“Quiet,” Julie whispered, motioning for Trinity to follow her. They crept to the opening in the hull and peered out.

At first, they saw nothing but a tangle of green and shadows. Then the crashing grew louder, and a dark shape emerged from the underbrush. Both women gasped, retreating slightly but unable to tear their eyes away.

It was a dog―or something like a dog. Its black fur was coarse and matted, and its sheer size defied belief. Easily eight feet long from muzzle to tail, it moved with a predatory grace, its muscles rippling beneath its thick coat. The creature sniffed the air, its sharp ears twitching, before its glowing yellow eyes locked onto a wild pig rooting in the dirt.

Julie clamped a hand over her mouth, her heart pounding so loudly she feared it would give them away. Trinity trembled beside her, clutching the knife in a white-knuckled grip. They watched in horror as the monstrous dog crouched low, its lips peeling back to reveal jagged teeth.

The attack was swift and brutal. The dog lunged, its massive jaws closing around the pig with a sickening crunch. The pig squealed, thrashing wildly, but it was no match for the sheer power of the predator. The dog let out a victory cry when the deed was done, a deep howl that reverberated through the hull of the yacht, and somehow even into Trinity’s soul itself. A strange sensation overtook the girl, as if the massive beast were calling to her, telling her to reveal herself. She grasped the closest rope with her free hand, almost afraid she would find herself obeying the call without thinking. By the time the feeling had subsided, her hand had gone completely numb. Within a few moments, the forest fell silent again, save for the grisly sounds of the dog tearing into its prey.

Julie and Trinity exchanged a terrified glance. The reality of their situation settled over them like a suffocating weight. The island clearly wasn’t deserted―it was dangerous, home to creatures that didn’t belong in the natural order.

The women huddled together, pressing their backs against the wall of the yacht. They covered their ears, trying to block out the horrific sounds of the dog devouring its meal. The creaking of the yacht’s frame above them felt ominous, as though the very trees might betray them.

Though not particularly religious, Julie whispered a prayer under her breath anyway, her voice trembling. “We can’t stay here. We have to move.”

Trinity didn’t respond. She simply nodded, her wide eyes staring into the middle distance, the image of the massive dog etched into her mind. Nothing had ever spoken to her in that way before. All she could compare it to was what her parents had taught her about how God used to speak to prophets in the Old Testament: a feeling in equal parts both awe and dread.

For now, the two women remained frozen in place, too terrified to move, knowing the predator below was the first of many dangers they might face.

The lifeboat rocked violently as Amanda and Candace leaned over the edge, having finally reached the edge of the eel swarm, their hands outstretched toward the two girls struggling in the water.

“Bethany, grab my hand!” Amanda shouted, her voice shrill with desperation. “Swim to me, baby-girl!”

Bethany thrashed, her movements wild and erratic as she splashed closer. “I’m trying! These… these things keep touching me!” she cried, her voice breaking with panic. “They’re slimy, and they’re everywhere, even up my shorts! It’s so gross!!”

“Just keep going!” Amanda urged, her heart hammering. She glanced at Rina, who floated just a few feet away from Bethany but wasn’t swimming. She wasn’t even moving. Instead, Rina stared ahead, her eyes glassy and unfocused, her body unnaturally still, kept afloat by the dozens of eels which wriggled against her.

“Rina!” Candace screamed, her voice laced with fear. “Rina, swim! Come on! We’re right here! Please!!”

But Rina didn’t respond. She didn’t even blink. The faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a serene expression that sent a chill down Candace’s spine. What are they doing to my sister?…

Rina’s mind was overcome with bliss. The sensation that the eels were providing her with far too pleasurable to allow her rational mind to pull her free of it. For too long, Rina had contented herself with images or videos on the internet and the skill of her own fingers to fill her days with pleasure as a distraction from the pain of her home life.

But never had she experienced sexual touch from another before, and she was surprised how little it mattered to her now that the first such touch had come not from a boy, but from these eels. She knew they must be aware of what they were doing to her. How each of the nibbles they gave her fingers and toes was like a sensual massage, or how the way they slithered over her breasts sent shivers down her spine.

Dully, Rina watched her friend Bethany struggle against the same touch, feeling pity that she was too morally upright to enjoy the gift being given to her. Rina sighed and continued to float.

“Bethany, get in the boat!” Amanda barked, her eyes darting between the two girls. “Now!”

Bethany let out a high-pitched squeak as the eels continued to brush against every inch of her body, but her mother’s order steeled her resolve and she surged forward, half-climbing, half-scrambling into the lifeboat. Her soaked hair clung to her face as she collapsed onto the floor, trembling violently. She curled into a ball, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, and began rocking back and forth.

“They were everywhere,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, tears streaming freely. “The eels… they were in my clothes, touching me… touching me in sacred places.”

“Bethany, it’s okay,” Amanda said, crouching beside her traumatized daughter and smoothing her wet hair. “You’re safe now, honey. Just breathe.”

A loud splash forced Amanda to turn away from her girl. Candace had jumped in the water! Even as the eels snapped and writhed against the new intruder, Candace’s attention was locked on Rina, who remained in the water, floating unnervingly still, her cheeks colored instead of pale, the smile no longer unmistakable. Then, out of nowhere, Rina let out a low, drawn-out moan. It was soft and languid, the kind of sound that didn’t make any sense in a situation like this. The kind that Candace had only made once, when she had been in his embrace…

“What the hell?” Candace whispered, stunned. Amanda froze, her hand hovering over Bethany’s shoulder as they both turned to stare at the sisters in the water.

Rina didn’t even register the arrival of her sister, her entire existence instead focused on the intense pleasure emanating from her crotch. One, then another, eel had found its way inside her swimsuit, and swiftly parted her pussy lips to stretch and fill Rina’s vagina for the first time. As if by magic, Rina felt nothing but the most intense orgasm rock her body as the eels darted in and out of her hole, the barrage of eels poking into her only ceasing once Candace had begun kicking and flailing at them to get away from Rina. But by then Rina had mostly fainted, the aftershocks from her stream of orgasms still sending spasms through her no longer virgin pussy.

From Candace’s view, Rina’s moan had ended almost as abruptly as it had started, leaving Rina’s head tilted slightly, her expression one of pure bliss. The smile on her face was dreamy, her cheeks flushed as though she were caught in some rapturous moment far away from the panic of the others.

“Rina!” Candace yelled, grasping her sister’s arm and yanking her roughly back toward the lifeboat. “Snap out of it!” The motion jolted Rina back to awareness.

Rina blinked rapidly, her face falling into confusion. “Wha―?” she stammered, her voice soft and drowsy.

Candace pulled her into the lifeboat before climbing in herself, glad to finally be safe from the eels. The eels in turn, sensing that their prey was no longer available to them, slowly retreated into the depths, flitting away into the crevices of the coral below. Candace looked at her sister, whose swimsuit―ripped and torn in many places―was in disarray and displaying assets it shouldn’t. Embarrassment led Candace to cover up Rina’s modesty before holding her shoulders as Rina slumped against her. “What on earth was that? Are you okay?”

Rina’s blush deepened, and she averted her gaze. “I… I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I must have hit my head or something during the storm. I… I think I was in a daze.”

Candace narrowed her eyes, her gut telling her that wasn’t the whole truth. But the glazed look in Rina’s eyes was gone, replaced with nervous embarrassment. Candace decided not to press her―for now. All that mattered was that her sister was safe. “Just… stay with us, okay?”

Rina nodded, her gaze fixed on her knees. “I’m fine now. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Amanda said, her voice firm but shaken. “Let’s just get to shore.”

As Candace grabbed an oar and began paddling them back toward the beach, she couldn’t help but glance at Rina out of the corner of her eye. The serene smile, the sexual moan, the way she hadn’t seemed to hear them at all―it was all too strange. Something had happened in the water. Something Rina wasn’t telling her.

And as she observed Rina looking longingly back at the water, Candace couldn’t shake the feeling that those eels hadn’t been normal eels at all.