Beautifully Unnatural: A Young Adult Paranormal Boxed Set Read Online Free Page A

spotted light filtering through the ocean. She swiped her arms propelling herself upward, but her hands were fisted in panic. Forcing her fingers to release, she clawed toward the surface.
    Finally breaking through, she gasped, dragging air into her greedy lungs. What was that thing? She thought as she rode the waves for a moment, trying to catch her breath. Desperate to be back on the safety of the beach, she kicked against the current. But waves overwhelmed, each stroke taking her farther from the stretch of white sand.
    Panic urged her to swim harder. Still nothing. The ocean swelled around her, elongating the distance like the hospital hallway in her recurring nightmare. The clouds merged into a solid sheet of darkness overhead as the wind picked up and the waves surged harder.
    Her shoulders ached and her sides cramped, but still she fought onward. Lactic acid burned along the muscles in her back from exhaustion. Salt water caked her eyes, nearly blinding her, but she was afraid to stop swimming long enough to clear away the crust.
    I’m going to die out here. Her limbs weighted her down, dragging her to a stop. Mom. Help me. I don’t want to die. She heaved through the crushing pressure in her chest and struggled to push herself further up on the surface as she searched for the beach.
    It was gone. She spun in a frantic circle, hoping she’d just gotten turned around. Nothing. No beach. No palm trees. No mysterious light-haired stranger. Only miles and miles of water in all directions.
    Just a dream…it’s just a dream . It had to be one of her nightmares. She tried not to think about how her visions were now invading every aspect of her life. She had to wake, now.
    A large wave crashed over her like a kraken emerging from the depths. She choked and spit the seawater from her mouth. The salt singed her throat and nose, the pain confirming this wasn’t a dream.
    Her last shred of hope vanished and dread crept in. Trapped.
    Her muscles cramped and paralyzing pain ripped through her.
    “Help!” Another wave rolled over her. “H-help, p-please,” she sputtered, but thunder muffled her weak pleas.
    The ocean wanted to claim her. She kicked frantically just to keep her chin above the water. Then her ankle caught in something. Panic roared through her and she twisted to free herself but the noose only tightened. Fire shot up her calf, through her thigh, and spread into her abdomen.
    She plunged her head underwater, contorting into a ball. As she reached to free her foot, her fingers brushed a bumpy surface. It moved, tightening its grip, pulling on her ankle until she feared it would be ripped off. She cried out, releasing a mass of bubbles, and slammed her other heel into the creature. Its grip loosened and she swam wildly for the surface, spitting and choking. Her entire body trembled and she wanted to scream in frustration and fear but only whimpers escaped between gasping breaths.
    A dark mass, the size of a compact car, smashed into her side, knocking what little wind she had from her lungs. Arms encircled her chest and jerked her back down into the churning sea. Water flooded her mouth. She scratched at the vise-grip squeezing her middle. It couldn’t end like this.
    Through her terror, she swore she heard sinister laughter reverberating around her. She tried to focus, batting her eyelids through the pain. Four shapes, all different sizes, spun around her tauntingly, in the murky water. Monsters, the ones from her dreams…from the accident.
    No, they can’t be real. It’s only an episode.
    The mantra she’d tried desperately to cling to faded into a black hole of fear. Her insides thrashed against her skin as if she’d turn inside out.
    The largest one circled around her faster and faster, its menacing chuckles growing louder. The creatures defied the laws of nature the way they twisted in half, shot across the water, flipped, then soared like a torpedo back at her. Their voices sounded like a dolphin