The lab's air grew thick with the smell of burnt ambergris as I flipped through the journal, my fingers brushing against the brittle pages. The entries grew more fragmented after the first keeper's final day, shifting to a new, jagged handwriting that scratched at the paper like nails.
Day 1 (of the second keeper). I've inherited the Conch. It whispers now, not in words but in… hunger. My predecessor's journals are filled with lies. The Deep doesn't want to rise—it needs to. The dry world is a wound, and the sea is the cure.
Day 5. The villagers are gone. The sea took them. The Conch feasted. Its beads glowed so bright I had to shield my eyes. I think it's growing.
Day 10. My skin is turning to porcelain. The pain is… exquisite. Like being reborn. The voices say I'm becoming "pure."
Day 15. I've started the sacrifices. Animals first, then… other things. The Conch likes the fear. It makes the hunger sweeter.
I slammed the journal shut, bile rising in my throat. The second keeper had been as mad as the first, his entries dissolving into nonsensical scribbles by day 20.
From the hallway came a low, rumbling growl—the Conch, calling. The paperweight in my hand throbbed in time with the sound, its beads glowing faintly.
"Stop it," I muttered, squeezing the paperweight.
It clicked once, sharp and defiant.
The lab door slid open. The keeper stood there, its porcelain face now cracked, tar oozing from the fissures. "You've read the journals. You understand what must be done."
I stepped back, clutching the journal. "I'm not going to feed it. I'm going to destroy it."
The keeper laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "Destroy it? You can't even leave. The Conch is in your bones. You're already half-porcelain."
It pointed to my arm. The silver scales had spread, now covering my elbow, the skin beneath translucent. I could see my veins—silver, pulsing with a light of their own.
"By dawn, you'll be fully merged. You'll hear the Deep's song. You'll crave it."
It held out a bone china dagger, its blade etched with runes. "The first sacrifice is always the hardest. But after that… the hunger fades. You become more."
I stared at the dagger, then at the keeper. "You're not a keeper. You're a prisoner. Just like me."
The keeper froze, its tarry eyes widening. "What did you say?"
"The journals. Every keeper ends up like you—trapped, half-porcelain, serving a force they can't control." I gestured to the walls. "This isn't a sanctuary. It's a cage."
The keeper's face twisted, porcelain cracking further. "You know nothing. The Deep is our salvation. It will wash away the dry world's filth. It will—"
A roar cut it off. The ground shook, and the paperweight's beads glowed crimson. From outside, the sea surged, waves crashing against the lighthouse.
"The Conch is waking," the keeper said, its voice trembling. "It needs a sacrifice. Now."
It lunged at me, the dagger raised.
I ducked, grabbing a jar of red fluid from the shelf. I hurled it at the keeper's face.
The fluid splashed, eating through the porcelain, revealing rotting flesh beneath. The keeper screamed, dropping the dagger.
I snatched it up, backing toward the door. "I'm not going to feed it. I'm going to end it."
The keeper's face melted, revealing a gaping maw filled with needle-like teeth. "Fool! You can't end it. You are it."
The ground split open, tendrils of red fluid snaking toward me. I ran, the dagger clutched in my hand.
The hallway was chaos. Doors slammed open, revealing rooms filled with bone china statues, their eyes glowing. The keeper's voice echoed, now distorted: "You'll feed it, or it'll feed on you!"
I sprinted toward the circular opening, the paperweight throbbing in time with my heartbeat. The sea outside was black, waves crashing against the quay.
A figure stood at the water's edge—Xiao Xu.
But it wasn't her. Not really. Her body was porcelain now, her face smooth, her eyes black holes. She held a child in her arms—the same child from the alley.
"Xiao Xu?" I said, my voice shaking.
She turned, her head tilting at an impossible angle. "The Deep needs a sacrifice. You failed. Now I'll do it."
She stepped into the water, the child struggling in her arms.
"No!" I ran toward her, diving into the waves.
The water closed over my head, cold and dark. I could breathe, but my body felt heavy, as if I was made of stone.
Xiao Xu was ahead of me, descending into the depths. The child's screams were muffled, but I could feel them—sharp, piercing, like needles in my skull.
The Conch appeared, its maw open, tendrils writhing. Xiao Xu held the child out, offering it.
I grabbed her arm, pulling her back. The child slipped from her grasp, swimming upward.
Xiao Xu turned, her porcelain face expressionless. "Why?"
"Because I'm going to stop this," I said, holding up the dagger.
The Conch's tendrils wrapped around me, pulling me into the maw. I didn't resist.
Inside, it was silent, the walls throbbing with red light. The dagger glowed brighter, its runes burning.
I plunged it into the Conch's core.
The Conch screamed, a sound that shattered the water around me. The tendrils released me, and I was thrown upward, breaking the surface.
The sea was calm now, the waves gone. Xiao Xu's porcelain body floated on the water, her face serene.
The keeper stood on the quay, its face half-melted, half-porcelain. "You've doomed us all. The Deep will rise. It will—"
A wave rose from nowhere, swallowing the keeper. When it receded, nothing was left.
I climbed onto the quay, exhausted. The paperweight was gone, the dagger lying on the stones.
The child approached, her eyes wide. "You did it. You stopped it."
I smiled weakly. "I think so."
But as I looked out to sea, I saw a shadow—a massive, formless shadow, deep beneath the waves.
The Deep.
It sighed, a sound that felt like a promise.