The midnight waters of Lake Storsjön stretched into the horizon, an obsidian mirror beneath the pale crescent moon. A cold wind coiled through the dense Scandinavian pines lining the shore, rippling the surface though no hand disturbed it.
From the dock, Daniel Ahlström adjusted the cuff of his tailored jacket, sharp eyes locked on the Horizon Eclipse—a billion-dollar superyacht moored offshore, its metallic frame gleaming beneath deck floodlights. Even from this distance, the vessel radiated wealth, power, hubris.
A cluster of mercenaries, marine biologists, and trophy hunters murmured behind him. Their faces flickered under the dock lights, excitement battling unease. Every person in attendance had received the same invitation, a summons from Victor Stenberg, the reclusive Swedish tech billionaire promising a payday beyond imagination.
"Welcome," a voice rang out from the yacht’s upper deck.
Heads snapped up.
Victor descended the gangway, his footsteps measured, presence commanding. Dressed in an immaculate navy coat, he exuded confidence—sharp cheekbones, angular features, silvered temples that caught the light.
"You know why you're here," he continued, voice smooth, assured. "For centuries, people whispered of Storsjöodjuret—Sweden’s Loch Ness Monster. A shadow beneath the water, an old god, a prehistoric survivor. Whatever it is, I intend to catch it.”
Murmurs rippled through the group.
Victor’s lips curled. “Whoever helps me do so walks away with fifty million dollars.”
Silence. Then, mercenaries’ eyes sharpened.
Daniel inhaled. Apex predators had crossed his path before—sharks, bears, wolves—but this hunt felt different. No one had seen the target. No one had proven its existence.
Yet.
As the crew boarded, Daniel cast a final glance at the lake. In the distance, the surface stirred, something massive rolling over in the deep.
Inside the command center, artificial life pulsed through digital monitors displaying sonar readings, heat maps, and depth scans of Lake Storsjön. Red blips scattered across the screen, none large enough to match the estimated size of their target.
Victor stood at the helm, gaze fixed on the screens, hands clasped behind his back.
"Depth?" he asked.
"One hundred sixty meters," said Dr. Hanna Nyqvist, a marine biologist with sharp, analytical eyes and a jaw locked in skepticism. "No known species in these waters match the anomaly recorded earlier. Whatever’s moving, it’s big."
Victor’s expression sharpened. "Let’s give it a reason to show itself."
Below deck, hunters in tactical gear secured a cage the size of an SUV, fresh deer carcasses suspended by steel cables.
Daniel frowned. "You think it eats land animals?"
Victor shrugged. "We’ll find out."
The winches groaned, lowering bloodied bait into the lake. As the carcasses dipped beneath the surface, the water flattened.
Everyone waited.
The sonar operator, a wiry man named Felix, squinted at the screen. "Nothing yet," he muttered.
Then—a sound.
Low, guttural, stone grinding against stone. It reverberated through the hull, ancient, resonant, sending an involuntary shudder down Daniel’s spine.
The sonar display spiked.
“Jesus Christ,” Felix whispered. “Something’s moving.”
Hanna leaned forward. “Size?”
Felix’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. “At least… twenty meters.”
Victor’s eyes gleamed. “Showtime.”
The yacht lurched.
Bodies flew. Metal groaned under immense pressure, and a deep BOOM rattled through the vessel’s frame. Daniel slammed into the railing, gripping it as the deck tilted.
“Status!” Victor barked.
Felix’s hands danced across the controls. "Something rammed us! That wasn’t a normal attack pattern!"
Water beyond the boat churned, foaming as something massive circled beneath.
Then—another hit.
The yacht tilted sideways, alarms blaring. Metal buckled as a massive shadow rose from the depths.
Daniel caught a glimpse of the creature beneath the surface—a shape too large, too fast, too knowing.
And then it surfaced.
A scaled, serpentine body, sleek and sinuous, lifted from the water. Floodlights cast a sickly glow over blackened, glistening skin. Massive, intelligent eyes locked onto them.
And then, it screamed.
A piercing, unnatural wail split the night, rattling bones, shaking souls.
Mercenaries opened fire.
Bullets rained against the beast’s hide, yet it barely flinched. It dived—and the water followed.
A massive wave crashed over the deck, sweeping two men into the abyss.
One of them screamed.
Daniel turned in time to see the man’s torso disappear—a violent yank downward, an unseen force pulling him into the deep.
Victor barely reacted. Instead, he watched the water with eerie fascination. "Beautiful," he whispered.
Daniel faced him. "We need to pull back!"
Victor’s expression remained unreadable. "No. We came to hunt a god," he said softly. "And I intend to finish what I started."
One by one, the yacht’s crew vanished.
Sonar failed. Floodlights flickered. Whispers coiled from the water, words spoken in tongues no human had ever known.
Daniel and Hanna stood at the bow, breath shallow.
“This isn’t an animal,” Hanna murmured. "Smarter than that. It’s waiting."
A thick silence swallowed them.
From the depths, the creature rose one last time.
It didn’t attack. It watched, studying, judging.
A thought slithered into Daniel’s mind, a message from the lake itself:
Leave.
Victor, oblivious, raised his rifle.
Before he could fire, an unseen force seized his ankle—and he vanished into the abyss.
No splash. No sound.
One moment, Victor existed.
Then, he did not.
The water flattened, disturbed no longer.
Daniel inhaled, knowing one truth.
No one had hunted.
No one had won.
They had been bait.
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