After their Prom, two couples (Meg and Drake, Tracy and Shawn) hopped in a car and headed for the shores of Cape Cod. It was 2 am by the time they arrived, and the beach was technically closed, but they didn’t let that stop them. They left their car on the side of the main road, and walked the wooded trail down to their favorite beach all the time shedding their confining clothes.
Meg ran towards the waves, and skipped around the shallow water. The rest of the party quickly gathered dead branches and started a bonfire. In the new light, Drake could see the shallow island a quarter of a mile off. What he didn’t expect was to see was Meg walking towards it. The tides must have let out, because her path was dry.
“Where are you going?” Drake asked. “You could get stuck out there.” But Meg didn’t respond; she continued to walk slowly, almost methodically, towards the island. Then the party started to hear thunder coming from the woods. The sound was moving swiftly towards them. Before long, they recognized that the sound wasn’t a storm, but the beating of a hundred threatening drums.
“What should we?” said Tracy.
Bum! Bum! BANG!
Without hesitation, they all stood up. Drake made a dash back towards the car. Tracy and Shawn ran towards the island, picking up Meg, and carrying her the rest of the way. As they ran, the water rose behind them, finalizing their decision.
Bum! Bum! BANG! Bum! Bum! BANG!
They hid as best they could behind the island’s few low bushes. None of them dared make a sound.
Bum! Bum! BANG! Bum! Bum! BANG! The drums were very close. Bum! Bum! BANG! Dark shadows of half-dressed men rushed from the trees and up to the shoreline. Their appearance made the kids’ hearts race and the bonfire dance. The shadows positioned their bows, and removed arrows from unseen holsters. A bear-sized man took position behind the others. He must have been their chief, for he wore a feathered headdress that added two feet to his height. He raised his right arm in the air, and howled ferociously, before dropping it to the ground as if swinging an axe. The shadows aimed and shot their arrows in the direction of the island. The kids held their breaths, and shut their eyes, but they soon heard the arrows hit a large object a ways behind them. Cool tingles ran up their spines, as they turned to see a massive schooner rounding the island, and heading straight for shore.
Men were yelling from the ships misty decks, and each had a rifle in his hand. The boat made no attempt to slow down as it plowed into the shore, crushing several shadows in its wake. The sailors scaled down to the ground, and ran after their attackers. Fists and Hatchets flew through the air, and shadows dropped to the ground. The illusion of firing gunpowder sent real puffs of smoke into the night sky, but slashing throats gushed no blood. The kids’ hearts beat faster than they ever could have imagined. “How was such a sight possible?” they wondered, “Were they going crazy?”
After several minutes of complete chaos, the chief’s howl rang out again, and the Native shadows retreated into the woods. One of the sailors whistled, and waved his fellows back to the ship. They pushed off, and returned from whence they came.
The kids were so terrified, they couldn’t move. Only in the morning, when the tide rolled back out, did they walk to shore, and head back to their car.
“Somebody probably just slipped something in the punch,” Shawn said.
“Yeah, that must be it,” said Tracy, but she didn’t sound convinced. When they arrived back at the main road, there were police barricades blocking their way.
Through the crowd, Meg could see Drake’s lifeless body splayed out on the ground. Meg screamed, and fainted. Tracy and Shawn stared on in horror.
“What seems to have happened?” asked one officer to another.
“He appears to have received a single ax wound to the chest?” said the detective, “There must be a real nut job around here.”
Needless to say, the kids never trusted shadows again, and they never visited the shore after dark.
This story was written by Alex Schattner