Shadow Waters: A Novel

By Suren G. Hakobyan

Having attained near-total control of the Earthly elements, humanity perceives itself as a master without rival. But, they have lost their roots, forgotten that they are part of the world.

How do we dare challenge nature's raw powers when we still know so little about this universe?

Then it comes. This is no mere rain. Raw fury lurks within the depths. The water which has sustained life for uncountable centuries has come to wipe the slate clean. Humankind, in its once unrivaled splendor, has been forced to take shelter, no different than a colony of ants during a spring shower. This is the final chapter of man, unraveling before us as we stand powerless.

But, there is a tiny glimmer of hope. Christian realizes it. He feels it. He sees it. Christian, his girlfriend Daniella, and his friend Edward seek high ground as they wait for the waters to recede. However, as time passes, Christian begins to understand that there is something strange in the water, an evil entity. He senses it, feels it from within. Christian knows that Humankind is doomed. Evil has come with the rain, and it has come for their souls.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Suren G. Hakobyan
• Release date: Oct 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393759072

Book preview

Chapter 1

Christian rushed toward the subway. He regretted listening to the weatherman on the radio that morning who had predicted light rain that would pass quickly. On the contrary, this was the worst rain that Christian had experienced in years. Wind-driven raindrops struck his skin as he struggled to hold his flimsy umbrella and keep his t-shirt dry. Nobody in their right mind would have left home without a coat today if they had known what lay in store.

To hell with this weatherman. So much for light rain, Christian growled as he splashed through the water overflowing from the road onto the pavement. Almost an inch of rainfall in an hour, and the drains were already overwhelmed by the deluge.

It was late spring, the time of year when the promise of summer was on the horizon; such a downpour was completely uncharacteristic. The sky, clear and blue that morning, had changed seemingly in the blink of an eye.

Dark, angry clouds had gathered overhead as if painted by the invisible, inscrutable hand of unearthly power. The might of Mother Nature had arrived in lightning bolts that had repeatedly flashed overhead for the past hour and accompanied by the roaring thunderstorm that had changed the city into a battlefield.

Christian arrived at the subway to find it jam-packed. Hordes of people, huddled together, were looking out at the downpour. Their expressions ranged from awe to perplexity to sheer terror.

Christian pushed through the crowd and squeezed his way toward his platform. Fortunately, he had a monthly ticket and didn’t have to stand in the long queue at the cash counter. The ground was slippery, covered with a thin layer of water brought in by the thousands of feet walking through the subway station. In his twenty-nine years, Christian had never seen rain like this.

His platform was teaming with people when he arrived. Rain dripped from their clothes. Women had makeup smeared around their eyes, some of them squeezing water from their hair. It was evident from the lack of coats and jackets that nobody had been prepared.

The train pulled into the platform and was quickly filled with the hoard of people that had arrived before Christian and took off.

Christian fell in the commotion—perhaps pushed by someone more eager than he. He cast his eyes downwards at the rails. He got back to his feet and looked into the pitch-black tunnels on either side, straining his ears, trying to mute people's complaints to concentrate on the expanses of darkness. He could hear the sound of water dripping unless his mind was playing tricks.

The next train arrived soon after the last had left, and Christian pushed thoughts of the tunnel from his mind as he boarded.

He glanced at his watch as the train departed. He was supposed to meet his girlfriend for another of their after-work dates, but there was no way he would make it in time.

He wasn’t the only person in the subway car with delayed or destroyed plans, but Mother Nature never asked whether her actions were convenient for humankind. Nature lived by her own rules.

At the second station, a small group of people got off, and Christian stood in front of the doors, facing the tunnel wall and wondering why the hell the lights in the tunnel were all off. Water drops were rolling down the windows, relentless, as if it were raining indoors and the rain had penetrated the brick and was dripping from the ceiling.

He finally reached his stop and hastily exited the subway, looking up at the sky with some of his fellow passengers. The ominous clouds were still present, with no intention of leaving anytime soon.

Christian opened his umbrella and ran to the restaurant, the relentless rain pattering on the umbrella as he moved. The restaurant wasn’t far; nevertheless, Christian was drenched when he arrived.

He entered, his eyes searching for his girlfriend Daniella. He spotted her glossy, dark hair at the farthest table from the door. She liked the corner spot. He walked over, watching her sip from her cup, water dripping from his hair as he brushed the rainwater from his shoulders and shirt.

Daniella looked up as he approached.

Chris. She rose and kissed him.

Hi, babe, Christian said. You look great.

And you look... awful. You’re soaked. Where is your umbrella?

Christian raised it to show her.

So, why didn’t you use it?

He chuckled under his breath and glanced at the table. Sorry, I’m late, he said, avoiding her question. I see you’ve gotten an early start on the tea.

Yeah. You’re late by about forty minutes.

Christian sensed displeasure in her voice even though she tried to hide it.

Be glad I haven’t left. People have been staring at me—the poor woman all by herself. You could’ve lost me, you know; they tried to steal me from you, she said jokingly. Not finding a smile on Christian’s face, she added quickly, I thought our date had slipped your mind. I tried to call you, but your cell was not in service. What happened?

Take a guess. Christian smiled as water continued to drip from him. Look out the window.

Her soft brown eyes filled with concern. The rain continued callously to pour from the sky.  Two people ran by, holding plastic bags above their heads, as Christian and Daniella looked out through the floor-to-ceiling glass.

It wasn’t so bad when I left the hospital, Daniella said, pressing her lips into a thin, bloodless line.

Something’s off. It is flooding outside, Christian said, trying to sound upbeat, but the worry was evident on his pale face.

Daniella didn’t argue when he raised his hand to a passing waiter and flagged for the bill.

We’ve got to leave, Christian said.

His eyes darkened as his mind returned to the subway tunnel, raindrops dripping from the concrete ceiling and the water streaming between the rails. A disquiet entered his heart, a disquiet at the unpredictability in this phenomenon.

Now? You sure? she asked, taking Christian’s hand, her voice anxious. You’re cold. You’d better have a cup of tea before we go.

No, I’m fine. I don’t want tea.

Better to stay and wait until the rain stops.

What if it doesn’t? We’ll be stuck here.

She took his hand. Is it as bad as all that?

Well, if the rain continues at this rate for the next hour, we’ll have to swim home.

Daniella exhaled and picked up her handbag.

Hey—Christian traced a finger down her cheek—we’ll still have our date. We just have to postpone it for now.

All right, Daniella sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

We can have dinner at my place. Christian put his arm around her shoulder. I’ll cook.

Dinner at your place, Daniella said, smiling slightly as their eyes locked. She stood up on her toes, pressing her breasts against his chest, her nose so close to his face that she could smell his warm breath on her skin. Will you still respect me after dinner? She winked at him.

I can try, Christian replied, the corner of his mouth twitching. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again. I love you.

Love you, too. But– She stepped back from him. Not today, Chris. You have to wait. I need to go back home. It’ll be too late if I stay at your place. And, you know my parents don’t like me to get home late.

Yeah, I know. Christian sighed. For now, let’s get out of here. Here, let me call a cab. Christian whipped out his phone, tapped the screen, and found the app. I don’t have any missed calls from you. I have signal, 4G connection; the internet is working.

I WhatsApped you, Daniella replied.

Yeah, you’re right. I must have been in a subway tunnel—didn’t feel it buzzing. He paused for a moment. Easier than I thought, he said, surprised. The weather was crazy, but ordering a cab didn’t take long. Come on, let’s go. It’ll be here in three minutes.

They walked to the doorway and looked out. The water level had risen, oozing through the gap between the doors and the frame, and was quickly covering the marble floor of the restaurant.

He turned to Daniella. This is crazy. Come on. Let’s do this.

Christian pushed the door open and determinedly stepped outside, finding that the water swallowed his feet completely, rapidly filling his shoes. He didn’t bother to use his umbrella this time. A strong wind was blowing, practically pushing people along as they walked, the rain so heavy that Christian could hardly see more than a few feet in front of him. He sloshed through the water to look out for the cab. Rain needled his skin and splattered his eyes. As the cab pulled up, Christian waved to Daniella, who was looking out from the restaurant doorway. She held her handbag over her head and splashed out to Christian through the rising water.

As she reached Christian, she stumbled, but he caught her and held her tight.

Get in, he ordered, reaching for the cab door.

Daniella jumped into the car, Christian right after her. He shut the door quickly before the water could get in. They were soaked through. Daniella looked like she’d gone swimming fully dressed, and Christian doubted his appearance was any better.

Sorry, we’re going to get your seats wet, Christian told the driver.

Hah, no worries, sighed the driver. He was slim and thin and must have been in his late forties. He watched Christian in the rear-view mirror. This rain is like something from a Hollywood disaster movie, hey. Where to?

Christian gave the driver his address. It’s in this district.

Yeah. We have a good chance to reach there before we’re washed away, the driver said as he typed the address into his navigator, but no promises.

Oh, Jesus, my hair is a mess. Daniella stroked her dark hair that had been perfectly coiffed a few seconds ago in the restaurant. My hairdresser will kill me. Her work lasted a day.

You still look nice. Christian grinned. My drenched little mouse. He chuckled.

Shut up! She punched him on the shoulder.

Any other day, it would be a five-minute drive to Christian’s house. Half an hour later, they were still in the cab, stuck in a traffic jam where the row of cars stretched as far as the eye could see in either direction. As the rain brazenly fell, they crawled through the streets, water tap-dancing menacingly on the roof and windows.

Another fifteen minutes passed, and they had moved no more than a few feet.

Do you mind if I smoke? the driver asked.

Yes, Christian said dryly.

He and Daniella had a strong disdain for what they considered to be a dirty little habit. The driver put the cigarette back into the box.

You think this is normal, Christian? Daniella asked, looking through the window, raindrops running rapidly over the glass.

Everything will be fine, Christian said, with an urge to sound convincing; his shaking voice gave him away. He was no longer sure he truly believed that. He felt uneasy, unable to identify the feeling, but it was present in his chest.

Look, they’re all running. Daniella indicated the people outside. Oh, she fell, Chris. She clapped her hand to her mouth in horror.

Who? Christian bent forward for a better view. A woman in her late fifties, as far as Christian could tell from that distance through the pouring rain was on all fours. She’ll be all right. See the man? He’s helping her.

It’s crazy. What’s going on? It looks like this rain isn’t going to stop. What if God is angry with mankind and has decided to wipe us off the planet? Daniella asked.

Please, Daniella, Christian snapped, his eyebrows knitted. He smiled to take the edge off his tone. God? You don’t think this is another Great Flood, do you? He gave a mocking laugh.

You wouldn’t think it was so funny if it happened, Daniella said.

Well, if that’s the case, Noah will show up with his Ark any minute, and we’ll just hop inside.

This is not funny, Chris.

You think we deserve it?

I don’t know. Daniella sighed. Her brown eyes looked black in the twilight. Okay, forget it. I just can’t get it that you’re an atheist.

Daniella, you need to get real and stop believing your cute little fairy tales.

Christian always felt surprised when their talk became about God and religion. Usually, people of science weren’t believers, and Daniella was a person of science–a nurse, but wasn’t it the same?

Don’t talk like that. Daniella blew out an exasperated breath, turning away. You don’t believe me, I get that, but stop forcing your ideas on me.

I’m not forcing anything on you. I’m just saying—

Save it, Daniella said with a frown, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. You’ve picked the wrong time for one of your anti-religion lectures.

Christian looked at the stiffness of Daniella’s slender shoulders. He knew her religion–for which he couldn’t discern a purpose–was important to her and that he’d offended her many times with his atheistic rants. It would take a lot for her to change her mind if she ever changed it at all. He should let her believe her fantasies; she wasn’t harming anyone.

Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry. Christian caressed her hand. I shouldn’t have said that.

Look, Christian; I know your thoughts about religion. I knew it before we started dating, yet I’m with you. We can love each other and create happiness regardless of our different points of view, but stop what you’re doing right now. You’ve ruined everything, don’t you understand that? I was thinking of a good time together tonight, and then we’d wake up, the rain would be gone, and we’d be happy. I’m happy with you.

I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right.

She didn’t reply immediately, watching him intently and regarding his features. Eventually, she sighed.

I’ll make it up to you. Christian grinned. Just forget it, okay? We’ll be home soon.

Home? We are stuck in this traffic jam.

We’ll start moving soon, Christian replied.

We’ll still be here, stationary in traffic, five hours from now, the driver huffed.

Five hours! Daniella exclaimed.

Christian exhaled. He thought for a moment, glancing out at the traffic. Some of the other drivers had come out of their cars; a few even left their cars running.

We’ll walk, he said.

Rather, swim, Daniella replied, eyeing the water outside.

Maybe. We are not far from my house. Ten minutes tops to reach it.

But it’s freezing outside, Daniella said with a shudder. Look at the trees. The wind is strong.

Yeah, it’d probably be better if you just stayed here, the driver agreed. She is right. You’ll be soaked to your bones.

I don’t want to wait, Christian said sternly. Drop us off here. I’ll pay extra for your trouble.

He paid the driver and opened the door. Water surged into the car. He leaped out of the car, pulling Daniella out with him.

Christian! she cried. Holy shit, it’s freezing!

You have to stay calm. Stick close to me, Christian ordered.

Cold air closed in on him. Rainwater flowed along the street like a river. The wind had gotten stronger–much more substantial than back at the restaurant–picking up the water from the ground in swells and troughs like the sea. Daniella followed Christian, her hand gripping his arm tightly, her eyes narrowed.

The street swarmed with people desperately trying to find shelter from the monstrous phenomenon. The air was filled with the infuriating sound of car horns blaring, expressing the exasperation of drivers stuck in the stream of endless traffic.

Everything in sight was chaotic, as if a ravenous Poseidon tossed his watery javelin in every direction. Café umbrellas flew like paper in the air. One of them almost hit Christian, but he leaped out of the way just in time, crashing into Daniella. The two of them hit the deepening water.

Christian quickly leaped back up and pulled Daniella to her feet. Sorry.

She coughed, rubbed her face, and tucked her wet hair behind her ears.

Let’s hide over there, Daniella spluttered, pointing to the old building entrance adorned with statues of Jesus on the cross.

Christian wavered momentarily, then said, No, we have to move on unless you want to die of exposure. We’re almost there.

Too cold, Daniella grumbled, shivering all over. My feet are numb, Chris.

They trudged on, the water level rising like someone had left a giant tap in the sky running. It soon became difficult to walk. The wind was getting more vicious, unsympathetically throwing people to and fro. Umbrellas soared in the air, their owners unable to hold on to them. The wind picked up various objects, rubbish, leaves, newspapers, and random papers, creating an unreal scene–a dreamscape.

What is going on, Christian? This isn’t normal, Daniella cried.

Christian said nothing in reply. He didn’t stop, never intended to, just purposefully pushed his feet ahead.

A few minutes later, they reached Christian’s front yard. Christian nudged Daniella. Only another few meters, and we’re there.

She nodded glumly.

The yard, surrounded by buildings on three sides, had become an enormous pool, cellophane packets and other rubbish cruising on the surface. The cars’ tires were three-quarters underwater. Christian slowed his pace in case there was anything under the dirty and black water that they might stumble on.

I can’t feel my feet anymore, Daniella cried, the scream muffled by the roar of the water.

The remaining distance was nothing compared to how far they’d already come, but the water had a current, and the wind jabbed him in the chest; they kept getting thrown backward. It didn’t help that Christian’s feet were numb, frozen to the core. He might as well have been walking barefoot on snow.

Nevertheless, he was determined to push forward. He summoned every ounce of strength he had left and continued doggedly to put one foot in front of the other and encouraged Daniella that they were going to make it. Not far to go, he chanted over and over internally.

We’re nearly there. Hold on a little bit longer, babe. Look, we did it, Daniella! Christian exclaimed happily as they approached the entrance.

They both staggered up the first steps and collapsed before the front door gasping and catching their breath. Christian removed his shoes and socks. Daniella was wearing sandals. Her bare toes were completely frozen.

Christian rose. The concrete floor felt ice-cold to his feet. He tried to lift Daniella, but he failed, and she swatted his hand away.

Come on, Daniella. We’ve got to get inside, get warm.

I can’t, Christian. I have no energy left. Violent sobs wracked her shaking body.

He kneeled beside her and pushed her wet hair back.

I need a moment, she uttered.

I’ll carry you.

Her voice dropped a notch. You can’t; you’re too weak.

Christian sat on the concrete and put his arms around her, pressing her head against his chest.

It’s okay, he said with a whisper.

The sound of a shutting door came from the floors above, and footsteps drifted down—somebody quickly descended the stairs. They both silently glanced until a young man appeared on the stairwell.

He came to a halt on seeing Christian and Daniella.

Chris? he muttered.

Edward? Christian burst, relieved at seeing his friend who lived on the top floor.

Holy shit! You guys okay? I saw you coming from my window, Edward said, panting. He approached them in quick steps. Daniella? You look... awful.

Thanks, Edward. Very nice of you, Daniella said scornfully.

Come on, help me carry her, Christian ordered. She’s frozen. We barely made it here.

Yeah, sure. The weather’s changed pretty quickly. Winter’s back, huh? Edward put her arm over his shoulder. Easy, here we go.

Daniella stood up with his assistance. Christian held her from the other side, glancing toward the elevator.

Forget it. The lights are off, Edward said.

Together, they slowly climbed the stairs.

So much rain in two to three hours, Edward noted.

I know. Keep going. Christian’s tone held no room for argument.

Daniella–lips and hands blue–shivered in his arms. Weakness had crept into Christian’s legs. Trembling and carrying Daniella’s weight, he focused on the sound of the ceaseless rain crashing down outside, the creaks of the floorboards—anything that would keep his mind off the screaming in his muscles and the burning in his arms. His legs buckled as he attempted the next step, but he caught himself in time.

Hey, buddy, you can let her lean on me, Edward said. I can handle her.

Christian gritted his teeth and pressed on. There was no way he was giving in. He firmly believed in the power of self and had never relied on others or supernatural forces.

He gently let go of Daniella when they reached the door of his condo on the third floor. He would never have been able to haul her those three floors without Edward’s aid.

You’ll be warm soon, Christian told her, his breath labored. He fumbled with the door. It took his numb fingers three attempts to get his key into the lock.

Daniella, head sagging, looked like she would pass out, yet she mustered the strength to stand upright. Christian entered a small dingy-lit hallway, followed by Edward, who led Daniella, and they headed straight to the living room.

We need to get out of those wet clothes, Christian told her as she sank onto the sofa, curling up in a corner.

He flicked the light switch. Nothing happened.

No power, bro, Edward said.

Christian cursed under his breath, hurriedly removed his shirt, and kicked his trousers off.

Daniella was trembling on the sofa. Christian, it’s too cold!

Take your clothes off, he told her.

I guess I’ll leave you to it, Edward said.

Yeah, buddy, thanks for everything, Christian wheezed.

No problem.

Christian rubbed his face. You’ll find the way, won’t you? I’ll lock the door later.

Sure. Call me if you need anything, Edward said and set off toward the door.

Come on, Daniella, get your clothes off.

She nodded and tried to reach the buttons at the back of her dress.

Here, let me. Christian unbuttoned her dress and tugged it off over her head.

Daniella lowered her gaze, covering her breasts with her near-blue hands.

I’ll get you a towel. Christian hastened into his bedroom and grabbed a long white wool towel from the wardrobe. He returned to the living room and draped it over Daniella’s shoulders. Take off your underwear, too. Everything.

Christian’s apartment had a medium-sized living room and a small bedroom. He liked light gray—that was why the walls were painted that color—and he kept them that way regardless of Daniella’s complaints. She was dressed in bright colors—as bright as her life—and Cristian was sure that she would change the design of his apartment as soon as she became his wife. And he knew he would not be able to do anything about that.

He went to the kitchen to light the gas cooker. His frozen hands could barely strike the match. He warmed his hands, still stiff and numb, over the small flame when it was lit.

Come here, he called to Daniella. The cooker works.

Daniella appeared in the dingy kitchen doorway, still shaking, barefoot, the towel cast over her naked body. She joined Christian at the flame.

Put something on, Christian, Daniella whispered. Aren’t you cold?

Yeah, I will in a minute, Christian said quickly, pulling back his hands from the flame.

His fingers began to buzz painfully from the warmth of the flame.

He opened a cupboard, removed a bottle of brandy, and decanted it into two cups. Drink up. You’ll feel better, trust me.

She took the drink and watched Christian knock back the contents of his cup in one gulp.

Daniella choked hers down, while Christian poured another cup for himself and skulled it. He set his empty cup beside the sink and then went to get some clothes from his bedroom. He selected an extra shirt and trousers for Daniella.

Do you feel better? Have you warmed up a little? Christian asked her when he got back to the kitchen.

I’m fine, Daniella replied, accepting the clothes. Your shirt and trousers?

Sorry, I don’t have any of your clothes here. Christian attempted a smile.

Daniella was already removing the towel. He stood there dazed, Daniella’s naked beauty tormenting him. Waves of warmth emanated from her supple core, calling to him, pulling him closer, making his heart hammer. His insides stormed, and uncontrollable emotions arose behind his chest whenever he saw her unclothed body. His heart burned, dragging him to her irresistible beauty. He yearned to hold her and feel her light, her warmth.

Hey, Daniella’s voice brought him back from his fantasies. What are you looking at?

At you, Christian mumbled through tight lips.

He moved close and put his arm around her shoulder.

You’re pretty bad, she grinned broadly.

Christian took her hand. Her fingers were like icicles at the touch. She brought them close to his mouth and sighed to warm them up. Then he placed a kiss on her arm and let her go.

As their eyes met, Daniella gave a weak but pleasant smile. Christian handed her his shirt. Daniella tossed it on. It was far too long for her, covering her body from her neck to the buttocks.

Christian remembered that his cell phone was still in the pocket of his wet trousers. He went to get it and found it soaked through and dead.

Where is your phone? he called to Daniella.

In my bag.

Her phone wasn’t in bad condition and came to life as he hit the side button.

Your weather app says it’s a sunny day, he muttered. He entered the kitchen, shaking his head. Idiots. He checked the news websites. The rain is everywhere throughout the country and has already caused a lot of damage. Electricity will be off until at least tomorrow morning.

Daniella stood in his clothes, oversized for her, her hair tied back with a chopstick she had found in the kitchen cupboard. Christian was a big fan of Chinese food.

I should call my mom. She must be worried sick. She took the phone and dialed. No dial tone, she announced, trying again to manually type her mother’s number.

Must be the phone towers, Christian said. Low signal. Internet is bad too.

What about your landline?

The power’s out. It won’t work.

Christian stood beside Daniella, staring at the flame as it danced and flickered. In the silence, he was struggling with his inner voice, convincing himself that there wasn’t any paranormal element to what was happening outside; everything should be temporary, just like any other rainstorm. But the eerie chaos he’d seen on a website a few moments ago unsettled him. Even if the rain were to stop now, it would take the city a long time to recover. It had knocked out the power stations. The wind had monstrously destroyed some houses and buildings, picked up trees, and thrown them aside like used matches.

Christian crossed the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

I’ll cook something up for us. He sighed, avoiding any eye contact with Daniella. They’re fine. Your mom and dad don’t leave home at this time of the evening. They will be home now. Just waiting for you. Did they know we arranged to meet?

Yes, she answered.

Close to dark, they sat down for dinner. The light in the kitchen was dimming. Christian turned his head to look at the gas stove. The flame was diminishing. He watched as it flickered weakly and shadows lengthened around the kitchen. The fire reduced to one last glimmer of orange, then died out.

Great! Daniella snorted a laugh.

Christian tried to light it again. No use. He