The three of them froze.The sound wasn't coming from outside — it drifted up through the floorboards, soft at first, then swelling until the boards themselves seemed to hum.
Marla set the lamp on a table. "Stay here," she whispered, though the tremor in her voice made it clear she didn't believe safety was possible anymore.
Adrian shook his head. "No. We face it together."
Greaves clutched at his coat, looking from one to the other. "You don't understand. There's no stopping it. The Harbor's been feeding it for decades — the fog isn't a thing that visits. It's the thing that lives here."
The song grew louder, pressing against their skulls. The air tasted metallic, and the lamplight flickered as if struggling to exist.
Slowly, Adrian stepped toward the stairs. Each step down was like walking into cold water, his breath hitching, the air thickening until every inhale scraped his lungs.
The basement was nothing but stone walls and a shallow pool of still water in the center. The song came from beneath its surface. The ripples on the water's skin formed shapes — faces, hundreds of them, mouths open in silent screams, eyes moving as if they could see him.
Marla's hand found his shoulder. "We can't kill it. But we can lock it deeper."
Greaves joined them, holding out a rusted iron key on a chain. "Only one way. You turn the key, you seal it for another hundred years. But…" He swallowed hard. "You don't come back."
The truth hung heavy between them.
Adrian looked at Marla, and she simply nodded — no words, just understanding. She had known this might be the end for one of them.
Without hesitation, Adrian took the key. "Get out before it breaks free."
Marla's voice cracked. "Adrian—"
"Go."
He stepped into the pool, the water swallowing him to the waist, then the chest. The song rose to a deafening scream as the faces swirled around him. He reached down, found the lock beneath the surface, and turned the key.
The moment it clicked, the water surged upward, pulling him down in a cold embrace. His last sight was Marla's face, lit by the lamp above, her mouth forming his name.
Then the fog outside began to thin.
By morning, the Harbor was clear. No one spoke of the night before, but everyone felt it — the weight had shifted, for now.
And somewhere, far below, a voice waited patiently in the dark, humming to itself.