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... ways. The air around her shimmered. It was thick with the stench of saltwater and despair.

At the moment, the Drenched Woman’s translucent fingers were outstretched. Her target was a thin, shivering dockworker. He huddled near a stack of crates, doing his job. Unaware of the upcoming doom.

Jack looked at the dockworker. He was still young. But, his face was gaunt. His cough ragged. And his eyes held the hollow look of someone already halfway to the grave. He was a pitiful man. Ta ...

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