It began as a calm morning off the coast, the kind of dawn that seemed made for fishing — pale light on the horizon, soft waves, and a silence that felt almost sacred. The fishermen had set out early, hoping for a big catch before noon. They joked softly, cast their nets, and checked their lines like they had a hundred times before. But even as the sun rose higher over the water, something didn’t feel right. The sea was too still. Seagulls circled above but never landed. The radio crackled with static and then went dead altogether.

Halfway through the morning, the youngest among them noticed something strange drifting in the water — a torn piece of blue fabric tangled with seaweed. It looked like part of a jacket, but there were no other boats in sight. They pulled it aboard, puzzled, and when they examined it closely, a dark reddish stain was visible near the collar. That was when the crew stopped laughing. They pulled in their lines, checked their nets, and for a while, everyone spoke only in whispers.

Suddenly, one of the rods jerked so violently that the fisherman holding it nearly fell over. The line went taut as steel. Whatever was pulling it was strong — stronger than any marlin or tuna they had ever caught. The sea began to churn, swirling like something enormous was rising from below. Then the surface broke. A dorsal fin emerged — long, dark and huge — slicing through the water like a blade.

The shark was colossal, larger than their engine room. Its movements were deliberate, almost intelligent, as though it were observing them. And strangely, it didn’t attack. It circled them slowly. One of the fishermen whispered that it felt like the creature was waiting for something. When the shark surfaced fully, its mouth opened slightly as if breathing in the air. And that was when they saw it — something glinting between its teeth.

It wasn’t a fish. It wasn’t a hook. It wasn’t anything from the sea. It was metal — rectangular in shape, crushed but intact. The shark opened its jaws wider, revealing what looked like a waterproof camera, wedged between two sharp teeth. The fishermen stared. It felt impossible, unnatural — yet also intentional. As though the creature was showing it to them.

The captain made a decision. Against every instinct, they leaned closer to retrieve it. Using a net, the youngest fisherman managed to hook the camera — and the moment it came loose, the shark dove beneath the surface with chilling speed. No splashing. No thrashing. Just gone. The ocean returned to silence, eerily calm… as if it had never been there at all.

They headed back to shore immediately. No talking. No music. Just the sound of the engine and their heartbeat. Once on land, they brought the camera straight to the harbor office. Miraculously, it still worked. They plugged it into a monitor — unsure whether they wanted to see what was inside. Dozens of files appeared. Most were corrupted. But one video opened.

It showed two divers descending into dark water, far from any familiar coastline. They laughed at first, pointing at strange formations under the seabed. Then the camera turned toward something massive and rusted — a chain thicker than a grown man’s leg, stretching deep into darkness. The divers followed it, intrigued. But as they moved forward, the water grew murkier, heavier — like it was trying to hold them back.

Then something flickered on the screen. An eye. Not human. Not shark. Something older. The camera jolted. The image blurred. One of the divers reached upward — his hand shaking violently. The current dragged them backward. They screamed, but the words were beyond recognition. The camera spun wildly and landed on the seabed.

Just before the footage cut out, a final image appeared — a stone wall deep underwater, covered in ancient carvings. Faces. Dozens of them. Twisted, open-mouthed, frozen in expressions of agony and fear. As if they’d been screaming for centuries. Then came a cloud of red drifting across the lens — and everything turned black.

The fishermen never spoke openly about what they saw. Investigators searched the area but found nothing — no chain, no carvings, no sign of the divers. They claimed the footage was fake, a trick. But the fishermen knew the sea had shown them something real. Something living in the dark.

Even now, when the tide is low and the gulls fall silent, one of those fishermen swears he hears it… that slow, scraping sound beneath the water — like a chain dragging across stone. And whenever he looks out at the empty sea, he gets the same chilling feeling…

That something is still looking back at him.