Before the Storm
Daylight was breathing its last, the red sun bleeding across the horizon like an open wound across the face of the sky. Its crimson hue mingled with the salty blue of the sea, painting a strange and unsettling canvas—as if secretly announcing the arrival of another night for Malik and his companions—nights that knew neither peace nor mercy.
Malik and Daniel stood before the chalet, side by side in profound silence, broken only by the furious roar of the waves crashing against the black rocks of the shore—a frenzied ritual of ebb and flow. Even the wind seemed restless, joining the sea's fury, whistling through the trees and whipping grains of sand around its feet.
Daniel's gaze drifted toward the horizon, where a small yacht shimmered faintly, its dim lights flickering
