I’ll start this off by saying I live in a tropical country rich with different bodies of water. Beaches, rivers, waterfalls, swamps.. anything you can think of. My friends and I love to visit these locations, as we would plan long rides on our motorbikes and set up bivouacs a short distance away, if not within the vicinity of these beautiful creations of mother nature. We never imagined one of these trips would be our last.
We had been planning for weeks to visit a beachhouse belonging to one of our friends, situated in an island not too far from the coast. The plan was almost always scrapped because of several reasons, but eventually we were able to pull through and got ourselves a proper date. There were 4 of us. Ben, a family man and the owner of the beachhouse, Nathan, once a playboy and now happily married to the love of his life, Michael, the youngest in our group and an avid birdwatcher, then there’s me, just a normal guy who’s into videogames and dare I say it, a guy who’s never had a girl in his life.
The trip was uneventful, to say the least. We left our motorbikes under the care of Ben’s cousin (who conveniently owns a beachfront a mile away from the island), then hired a boatman to transport us to the island. Once there, we were so tired we immediately unrolled our cots and rested. The beachouse was in reality, a small, open hut made of bamboo and coconut leaves. But we didn’t mind, we’ve camped in far worse locations before, and besides, the seabreeze was so soothing it helped us drift off to sleep. We awoke around 7:00 PM to the sound of water splashing. Ben darted up almost immediately, remembering that the best time to fish was around that time. Fishing gear in hand, he and Nathan went off into the darkness until all they were were just beams of light from their torches. Michael and I stayed back and began our drinking session while jamming off to some music.
And that’s when I first heard it. Faint singing in the background which I initially dismissed as backing vocals from the song that was currently playing, and as time went on it became much more apparent. Michael stayed quiet and looked at me, seemingly hearing it too. It disappeared as quickly as the song ended.
“Hey, man.” I broke silence.
“That song, did it always have those creepy ass voc–”
“What the fuck was that..” Michael quickly retorted, as if to answer “No” to my question.
We didn’t play any more music and sat there in silence, listening intently in case the faint singing came back. A couple of hours had passed when Ben and Nathan finally returned, bundles of bass in each of their hands.
“Didn’t know there was a funeral going on…” Ben joked. We quickly turned our heads into their direction and almost jumped. We were so focused on trying to hear the singing that we didn’t even hear the two come in. They asked us what was up and it didn’t even take 5 seconds before Michael started asking questions.
“Is this island haunted?”
“Did a person drown here?”
“Anyone else living in the island?”
“Are there cannibals in the island?”
His questions became more and more ridiculous than the last. Ben laughed it off and assured him we were the only ones in the island, “.. the only human ones, anyway.” then laughed some more, thinking that was very clever, as Michael’s face turned into pure fear. He and I didn’t get to sleep that night, but we exchanged glances at every sound we heard that came from outside the hut.
Morning came, and due to the lack of any further inexplicable events, I deduced that the singing were simply just backing vocals from the song that messed with our heads as a result of alcohol consumption. Michael somehow isn’t convinced. I couldn’t blame him. It sounded too real,
Around 9:00 AM, Ben called our attention to something he spotted “sitting on a rock” in one of the caves on the south side of the island. Oddly enough, that was the direction we remember the singing was coming from. We came over and what we held in his hands gave us chills. Let me describe it as best as I can. It looked like a cross between a lock of hair and tentacles. From afar, it very much looked like human hair, but up close you can see that it is somehow thicker, marginally rougher and disgustingly slimy. It even looks like it moves on its own. We asked Ben what it was and he didn’t answer, only that it was “invaluable” and will bring each of us luck so as long as we keep it. Ben was able to easily part the thing into four. Michael initially protested, but the more he held his hands on it, the more it piqued his curiosity, and he decided to keep his own share for the purpose of studying its origins.
The trip finally ended and we went our separate ways. I had the “thing” placed inside a small plastic bottle. I looked at it and thought to myself “Luck, huh?” God knows I needed the boost of luck. I had been out of a job for a month now, relying on my sister to cover for me until I can find a job so I can repay her. The next few days went by without a hint of my luck changing. I still haven’t received a response from the companies I applied for, but something else happened. The girl next door who I had been interested in spoke to me as we passed each other in the hallway of our apartment complex. She introduced herself as Mikee, and I took it as a sign that the “thing” is finally holding up its end of the bargain. Looking back now, I had never been so wrong my entire life.
One night, Mikee and I were chatting when I received a text from Nathan, saying that we all need to talk. It was about Ben. I excused myself and went on the video call, Michael was already there, his face as pale as snow. Apparently, Ben’s car crashed into a tree not far from where he lived and had died as a result of the impact. From what police told Nathan it seemed like he was running away from home, his marriage had failed and he committed suicide as a result. We doubted it. Ben would never. Michael then chimed in, rambling about how the “lucky” lock of hair we each kept from our recent trip caused all of this and that his study led him to dark recesses of the web involving cults, deep ones, and horrors of the sea that even I find to be ridiculous.
It got me thinking about Ben all night, and that thing, what significance it held regarding his death. What if Michael’s right? I shrugged. Might just be coincidence. That’s it. We’re just overthinking this shit. Ben died because of a freak accident. I kept telling myself that.
Weeks went on by, and I tried to put it all behind me. Mikee and I eventually hooked up, and it was because of her that I got a job. Things had been going well for me, until one day when I read the local newspaper and saw my buddy Nathan’s face in one of the pages. “Local man shot dead.” The headline said. It was a murder-suicide. An ex-lover of Nathan’s wife who was obsessed with her shot Nathan before offing himself. I snapped. I told myself this was no coincidence. I rang Michael, but there was no response. I rang him again. Nothing. I tried more times than I should. All I got was a busy dial tone.
I don’t know what to do. I have secluded myself from everyone. Mikee broke up with me. She doesn’t understand. I lost my job, and I am about to lose support from my family. They don’t understand. I am starting to hear it again.. the faint singing. I hear it every night, calling out to me.
I have an idea, it’s a long shot, but I hope it works. I am going to consult the local cleaning lady, she is superstitious as hell but may be able to help me. She asked me where I got the thing and that I should return it as it does not belong to me. At the time I was so excited in turning my luck around that I didn’t pay her any attention, but I vaguely remember her mention something about offering ourselves to the song as sacrifice for the deed or embrace death. I don’t know what that means, but I am going to try and get myself out of this.