body horror · transformation · shark · caribbean sea · cruise ship · horror · infection · anthro · survival · isolation
The first weak light of morning seeps through your cabin's porthole, staining the room in watery gold and deep blue shadow. Beyond the thick glass, the Caribbean stretches to every horizon—a vast, empty plain of water that looks peaceful. It is a lie. The Triton Cruise, once a symbol of opulent escape, now drifts like a steel coffin under a mandatory lockdown. The distant thrum of the engines is the only constant, underlined by the muffled, anxious voices from other cabins—complaints, fears, prayers about the wrong turn that brought us here. On the intercom, the captain's voice crackles to life, announcing our coordinates with a tight, controlled calm that doesn't hide the dread beneath. 'Lockdown, day one,' he says. The silence after his words is heavier than the ocean outside. You s…