The Wrath of the Sea Beast

The wind howled through the narrow streets of Orkney as the first few drops of rain began to fall. The sea, a dark, churning mass of waves and foam, crashed violently against the cliffs, its fury unrelenting. Finn MacLeod stood at the edge of the village, staring out over the wild waters. It was a familiar sight, yet no less awe-inspiring. The sea had always been a part of Finn’s life, as much a companion as it was an adversary.

He had grown up with the sound of the waves lulling him to sleep at night, the smell of salt in the air ever-present. His father had been a fisherman, like his father before him, and Finn had inherited the same love for the ocean. But there was something different about tonight. The sea seemed angrier, more dangerous than usual. There was an energy in the air that made the hair on the back of Finn’s neck stand on end.