Chapter 47: The prophecied tsunami.
It was not a noticeable shift in the beginning just a ripple on the surface of the ocean. Those that were in the water suddenly noticed something unnatural. Dead fish suddenly floating to the surface. Their silvery bodies glistened in the drizzle, unmoving and eerily symmetrical in a single line.
And then, there was a mist blowing in the wind, hidden in a sudden fog. Inland, dogs started to bark, birds stopped chirping. Every animal was suddenly too afraid to make a sound.
Then the ocean started to pull back slowly, winds picked up speed. The tsunami crept into view--not with thunder but silence and mist, rising like a beast uncurling from slumber.
Inside the last beacon church ferry, the martyrs held hands and sung louder as it was overturned. Air horns on ships and other vessels on the water blasted loudly but they were lost in the wind.
"What the hell!" One bay watcher shouted, eyes glued to wave which was about to swallow him.
People run out of the water, locals and tourists alike, guided by instinct. But the waves were determined to feed on the island. They grew stronger, sharper and more violent.
"Help us please." Screams came those that were being dragged down by the waves but there was no one to help, everyone was fighting to stay alive.
Drone cameras caught it live; the entire chunks of the island with the people on it vanishing under frothing green water. Radios chattered, signals glitched, lights flickered as under water cables tore.
A news station helicopter camera caught a whirlpool spinning open like a cracked iris, swallowing a luxury cruise liner whole. There were seven thousand people on board!