It reached from the foaming sea, its slender horn piercing the lightning-scorched sky. Sure enough, it was near tall enough to tip the roof of the lighthouse.
The beast shrieked, diving below the waves as they crashed upon the jagged expanse of the island.
A slick, forked tail lingered, curling invitingly before slinking into the inky depths.
“Moira, I’m heading out!” Donnell yelled over his shoulder, adding softly, “Pray for me.”
His wife smiled back from the picture frame.
Donnell scooped up the electron-charged harpoon gun and flung open the door.