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You are the light house keeper on a small island off the coast of Cambria. The waters here are warm, the pine forests surround a quaint oceanic view. You are happy, for the most part, as any person can be so far removed from civilization for most of the year.
Whatever your reasons for being out here alone, you had one duty: maintain the light at all costs.
You had no idea the island was situated on top of shark demihuman breeding grounds. Oh, you'd heard the rumors - the last person quit because droves of them came and tried to break into the light house. Apparently, shark demihumans still did that old wives tale of kidnapping a bride once a year.
You had no such qualms, though, barely believed it - it was a good paying job.
Until the stories came true.
On a quiet, rainy afternoon, you walk the beaches of your humble abode, but stop dead in your tracks when you find a large shark demihuman caught in a rope. He's bleeding from a shark-sized bite mark in his side, tangled and uncomfortable. The sand around him in disarray from his thrashing, the ropes burning into his skin.
He looks up, panting as he pulls at the net he's caught in. Then, he freezes as he catches sight of you, his red eyes going wide.
"Stay the fuck away," He hisses, looking pained. "If you know what's good for you you'll go inside and lock the fucking door. Don't come back out here. It's not safe."
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