Poseidon Express emerges from the serene ocean, so it can drop off its passengers in different stations.

High heels and million-dollar loafers brush against the thick, red carpet covering the floors.

And while some finished with their tea and champagne, others were too self-absorbed to pick up after themselves.

Glancing away from the moist glass, Caleb covers the windows with brown satin curtains and asks a sleepy Nessa if she is tired.

"No," she lied, yawning. "I am good."

In the meantime, Johnny fidgets around in his chair, praying for this long trip to end.

He had drunk at least four cans of Sprite; but when Johnny tries to go to the restroom, it was occupied by wealthy men bragging about their luxurious mansions.

Sensing his frustration, Nessa moans, "Dude, just go to the men's bathroom."

"What?" Johnny whispers in a low voice. "I can't go there!"

Nessa gives him a deadpanned look. "Why?"

"Because the bathroom is full of men trying to take a shit."

"Oh, God."

An hour later, the train stops in an unfamiliar subway station. Men, women, and children compiled their enormous baggage and wander out the door.

Seizing the opportunity, Nessa grabs Johnny by the arm and storms into the men's bathroom.

"Come on," she urged. "I am not going to let you wet your pants."

"Oh, shut up!"

His black backpack dropped onto the floor as Johnny struggles to release his hand from her grip, but Nessa was too strong.

She pulls him into the mob of vacating civilians until the pair disappeared without a trace.

Meanwhile, Caleb had a conversation with Brooke's mother who seemed distracted by her daughter's cold behavior.

"Honey." Adelaide slithers her hand across the golden table, grasping Brooke's wrist.

Brooke simply looks up at her mother, but she refused to speak.

"Aren't you at least happy to see me?"

"I don't know."

"Honey, please-"

"You and Dad were the ones who bailed on me for two years." Brooke interrupts sharply.

A silent Adelaide bows her head in shame.

"Brooke," she begins to say. "It's not like we don't care about you."

"You guys never cared about me," the young clairvoyant retorts.

She yanks her hand away from her mother's clutches and adds, "All you guys ever do is berate me for every little mistake I make."

Thomas scowled. "Honey, that is not true."

"Oh, come on!" Brooke groaned. "When was the last time you actually visited me?"

Adelaide sighs, but this time her eyes were locked in Caleb's direction.

Quiet as a mouse, Caleb gives attention to his sullen Brooke. His eyes analyzed the fury tarnishing her exterior.

As much as Adelaide loves their blossoming relationship, she couldn't help but feel envious of Caleb.

He seems like the type of guy Brooke would go to for guidance and support.

In every letter Brooke composed to her parents, she hardly ever informs Adelaide or Thomas what she is actually thinking.

"So, how are you and Caleb doing?" Adelaide asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, we're doing fine," Caleb answered, nodding his head.

"Did you two do anything fun?"

Caleb scratches his head nervously. "I was going to plan something special for Brooke's birthday, but-"

Adelaide gasped. "Brooke's birthday? When is it?"

"Next week."

No wonder Brooke is an angry mood. She and Thomas never took time off work to see their daughter blow out the candles.

Covering up her face in her hands, Brooke's mother vowed to make it up to her daughter.

"I'll get the birthday cake, buy some presents, and maybe we can invite some friends over."

"Mom, it's fine," Brooke says softly. "I don't care about my birthday."

"You don't care about what?" a surprised voice asked.

Caleb, Brooke, and Adelaide glanced up from their desks to see Thomas and Triton walking up to them.

Thomas grins at his daughter who doesn't smile back. Instead, she questions Triton about his whereabouts.

The former gym teacher's cheeks scorched a glossy red.

"I was going to join you guys," he begins to say. "But I was afraid that I might interrupt your debate with Dove."

"So, you just sat far away from us?" Caleb inquired, unblinking.

An awkward Triton clears his throat to explain when a nosy Thomas intervened.

"It was my fault," he admitted. "I saw Triton coming out of the bathroom and decided to have a chat with him for a little bit."

Brooke cocks her head to the side. "Oh really, so you were paying Triton to spy on us?"

"What?" Thomas looks at his bashful wife.

"Isn't that why you guys are here?" Brooke challenged.

Caleb attempts to calm her down.

"Brooke," he began. "Your parents are here to keep an eye on us."

"And after that, you and Mom going back to South Africa and never visit me again."

Thomas joins his wife beside her.

"I have seen you take care of herself, " he grinned. "I am so proud of the way you nursed Triton to health."

Adelaide's fearful eyes widened as she pivots her head to Brooke's direction.

"You did what?" she shrieked.

Brooke's face reddens. "He was injured, Mom. I was just trying to help-"

"Honey, you could have been exposed," Adelaide spat.

That's when Caleb becomes defensive.

"Brooke did a good thing, helping someone out. If he died, we wouldn't have gotten onto this train in the first place!"

An embarrassed Adelaide fires him an intense glare. "This society does not care for us. They put profits over our cultural identity."

"I know." Thomas starts to say. "But people like Triton need help. Hell, no one in the diner got involved."

Thomas reached into his pocket, pulled out his small notebook, and showed his wife the drawing of Brooke and Nessa patching up Triton.

"See?" he gestured. "Brooke and Nessa did a good job helping Thomas."

Adelaide lets out a moan. "It's not that I don't trust Brooke, I just want her to be careful."

"Me too."

Just then, a horde of wealthy men scampered left the bathroom.

Eyes swell up like traumatized frogs; their feet trip on the carpet but the passengers manage to get off of the train before it leaves.

Alarmed, the adults, Brooke, and Caleb all brought out their concealed firearms when the Phoenix siblings came to the scene casting irritated looks at each other.

"I don't know why are you so mad at me for." Nessa scowled. "I only told them that there was a dead rat in one of the bathroom stalls."

Johnny twists his nose. "Lying is wrong."

"So?" she snorts. "It's not illegal. And besides, at least you went to the bathroom."

The siblings turned their attention to Brooke, Caleb, and the adults who sat back down and tucked their handguns back inside their pockets.

"Guys, you almost scared us." Caleb scowled.

"Sorry for the wait, guy." Johnny chortled.

Brooke and the others collect their bags, leave the car, and follow Triton out of the murky tunnels.

Johnny and Nessa quickened their pace to catch up to their former gym teacher, while Brooke's parents try to reconnect with their irritated daughter.

They babbled about their adventures with Nelson Mandela, but Brooke didn't want to hear any of it.

Instead, she held onto Caleb's hand and drag him out of the tunnel.

"Come on," Brooke urges, marching past an elderly couple. "The longer we stay here, the more people will get hurt."

Caleb understood her frustration. But even so, he makes careful attempts to get Brooke to calm down.

"Babe, don't you think you are being harsh to your parents?" he asks in a hushed tone.

Brooke grips Caleb's hand but didn't say anything.

Their exhausted feet drag across the damp pavement; smells of salt and algae tainted their noses as Caleb and Brooke ushered past the depleted passengers.

"Come on, Brooke." urged Caleb. "Can't you at least tell them what you are feeling?"

"Are you serious?"

He gives her a sincere nod. "I can't believe I am saying this, but talking helps."

"Look, I understand that they are worried about me." she began. "But for the past six months, my parents didn't call or sent me letters!"

"Maybe they have a reason."

Brooke clenched her small fists. "It's like they have it out for me or something."

"No, they don't—" Caleb starts to say.

"Then why do they visit me every time I cause trouble?" she continued.

"First, the stolen snacks, and now this? I know we do risky things, but we do them for good reasons."

Caleb clutched her right hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

"Just be patient with them, Brooke," he advised. "Parents are complicated, but we might have a chance to catch this sea beast."

Brooke stops walking and looks at Caleb in amazement.

"Oh my God," she whispers. "You sound just like me."

Dumbfound, Caleb releases her hand and inspects Brooke's face closely.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asks strangely. "Your voice sounds perfect."

"No," said Brooke, sighing. "I sound like a wise, old mentor in one of those cliche fantasy novels."

Caleb stares at her for a second then plants a sweet kiss on Brooke's forehead.

"Just be confident of yourself, Brooke," he says calmly. "And besides, what's the worse that could happen?"

* * *
The group entered a strange world cloaked in mysterious fog, working-class citizens, and dismal bodies of water. Soon, the saturated cement transitioned into driftwood flooring.

Meanwhile, Nessa and Johnny Phoenix thrust their heavy backpacks over their weary shoulders.

Although the soft drizzle died down, they still wore their dark coats in case the rain comes back.

"So, how was the family reunion?" Nessa asks Brooke.

Johnny stares viciously at his younger sister.

"What?"

"Can you stop poking into Brooke's life like that?" Johnny asked, scolding.

Nessa crossed her arms. "I am just curious."

But much to the boys' astonishment, Brooke didn't mind Nessa's question.

"For the past two years, they have never sent me anything," she went on.

"If Mom and Dad were so worried about me, they should have told me that they were coming to visit."

Speaking of Brooke's parents, Adelaide and Thomas roamed behind the group like neglected dogs.

Adelaide knew her daughter doesn't want to be seen with them. Nevertheless, she often reprimands herself for spending little time with Brooke.

In fact, Thomas and Adelaide used so much time traveling around the world that they haven't been there for their child.

While Adelaide is scheming up ways to win Brooke's trust back, Thomas scoped his eyes around the unusual city.

If this story was set in 1965, this borough would have been swarmed with bustling crowds and comfortable establishments.

I remember my grandmother calling it Bliss and Shine Creekview because this city used to be a tourist attraction.

That is until many people started vanishing from oceans, lakes, and even swimming pools.

Now, the police had investigated everyone in the city; but so far, there were no leads, suspects, or witnesses. 

As more people disappear, rumors about ghosts and sea monsters became apparent that they nicknamed this city Lovecraft Creek.

Walking behind the children, a frightened Thomas King finds the atmosphere more unsettling than a typical horror movie.

Indigent people ambled their bony feet down the shiny cobblestone roads.

Worn lines formed around their oil black eyes, dirt-smeared clothes, and frayed shoes. They came in and out of old taverns, lodgings, and wooden shacks.

Because it's almost Christmas, the buildings were adorned with beautiful lights, red and green ribbons, and other embellishments.

Some civilians were even singing Christmas songs while they carried large, brown paper bags.

Johnny, Nessa, Brooke, and the other adults would be delighted to hear some music if Caleb would stop complaining.

Ambling down the road, he moaned, "Anyone got a plan? Because I am so tired of walking."

Johnny's dry lips lift into the teasing smirk.

"Why so paranoid, Caleb?" he taunts. "Scared that the clown might get you?"

Caleb did a childish pout. "That's not funny, Johnny."

"It's a little funny." Johnny teased. "Anyway, we should book a hotel, get some food, and plan a strategy."

Thomas did a sigh as he watched two stray kids playing tag.

"Johnny's right," he announced. "Sooner or later, this sea monster will destroy innocent lives. So, we need to prepare ourselves."

"That sounds nice," Thomas agreed.

He briefly glances at Brooke who purchases a copy of the Daily Oracle from a teenage boy.

Unfolding the pages, she reads the latest tragedy: 'S.S. Moby Dick Devoured by the Underwater Boogeyman.'

"Dear God," she whispers. "This attack is recent."

An intrigued Nessa peers over Brooke's shoulder.

"They think the Loch Ness Monster is behind these crimes?" she frowned.

"Apparently." Brooke hands the newspaper to Johnny.

"Why?" Nessa asks inquisitively. "Don't these journalists know that Loch Ness Monsters live in Ireland?"

Thomas King let out a fatigued sigh.

His comforting hand positioned on Adelaide's shoulder as he read the contents on the paper.

"If Nessie did attack," Johnny began, passing the newspaper to Adelaide. "These types of killings would appear in Ireland—not  California."

A dazed Triton nods silently. He hasn't spoken a word since the group got off of the train.

But even so, the former school gym teacher came up with a flexible suggestion that motivates the team.

"As much as I want to bring this monster down," he began carefully. "Let's research every sea creature who fits the profile."

Caleb shuffles past a pudgy, white woman and hurries up to him.

"Okay, but how?" he asked.

Triton puts on a huge grin. "I know a place where we can get some information. Follow me."