The waves were a mournful dirge, beating endlessly against the derelict hull of a ghostly schooner, long marooned on the forlorn beach of Innsmouth. Rumors whispered of a cursed treasure hidden within, guarded by shadows older than the stars and sights that drove those who beheld them into eternal madness. As the moon hung like a silver eye, the schoolchildren who dared approach felt an overwhelming force pulling them toward the dark, cavernous depths of the vessel, where a malign presence awaited with ancient patience.
Saved at 2025-09-25 14:42 UTC
