Jeremiah Rasmussen just wanted to be alone. He spent years building his home on an island at the edge of the world.  From the eve of his twenty-first birthday until this morning, the dawn of his thirty-third, He has been waiting.  Jeremiah woke in the still dark hours and climbed his way into the watchtower.  He has a full mug of his stiffest coffee brew.  He looks out over the water, at the banks of his former home.  Jeremiah remembers his family, especially his younger sister who idolized him right up to that day – the day he blew out twenty-one candles and wished for a different world.  Then, he became something else.

 

So now, he sits in his tower looking out past the home he built.  It conceals the steel lined walls and the concrete cell he enters each night to protect him from his own transformation.  He trembles a bit, recalling the fist-shaped dents and claw marks that have gouged the cement.  He fears himself but as he looks out on still waters, he knows there is something else.  Jeremiah hears the whistling siren calling out to him, hears the shuffle and slither of other creatures over and through his woods. They are arriving here, at the edge of the world to claim it as their own. Jeremiah feels the tug on his pounding heart, the urge to join them in the overwhelming tide. He takes a sip of his special brew.  Jeremiah thinks about his sister and vows that he will save her.

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