"Silas the Zombie Overseer" - Bahamas AI Art

 ©A. Derek Catalano

 

 

The Root and the Grave: A Cat Is. Horror

 

Act I: The Unbinding

 

Chapter 1: The Breath of God

The wind did not howl; it screamed. It was a high, thin sound, like metal being sheared on a lathe, a sound that vibrated in the teeth and the marrow of the bone. Hurricane Zephyr, a late-season Category 4 monstrosity, was currently grinding the spine of Cat Island into the Atlantic Ocean.

Sarah Seymour huddled in the basement of the swaying guesthouse in Port Howe, her arms wrapped around her knees. The darkness was absolute, save for the strobing flashes of lightning that illuminated the dust motes dancing in the humid air. Above her, the timber-framed house groaned, the nails popping like pistol shots as the pressure dropped.

Sarah was a historian, a woman of facts, dates, and architectural blueprints. She had come to Cat Island to catalog the ruins of the Deveaux Plantation, to preserve the fading legacy of the 18th-century cotton barons. She did not believe in ghosts, or obeah, or the "bad wind" the locals whispered about. But tonight, huddled in the dark while the island was flayed alive, the rational world felt very far away.

The Queen Pearl: A Harbour Is. Mystery

 "The Queen Pearl" - Bahamas AI Art

 ©A. Derek Catalano

 

 

The Queen Pearl: A Harbour Is. Mystery

 

Chapter 1: The Pink and the Grey

The heat in Dunmore Town didn’t just sit on you; it owned you. It was a physical weight, a damp blanket woven from salt spray, frying oil, and the exhaust of a hundred golf carts putting along narrow, colonial streets.

Jack Watkins adjusted his tie, a reflex that marked him instantly as an outsider. In Nassau, a tie was business. Here, in Harbour Is., Eleuthera, it was a sign of mental instability or a court summons. Jack was neither crazy nor a lawyer, though the locals looked at him with the same suspicion reserved for both. He was an insurance investigator for Maritime & General, and he was currently sweating through a suit that cost more than the golf cart nearly running him over.

"Watch it, bey!" a voice shouted from the cart.

Jack stepped onto the curb, narrowly missing a pile of potcake poop. The town was vibrating. This was the opening night of the Annual Conch Fest, a week-long deification of the Strombus gigas, the sea snail that fed the nation. The air smelled of spicy peppers, lime juice, and deep-fried seafoods.

Jack wasn't here for the fritters. He was here for the Queen.

The Night the Crabs Attacked

 

 "Killer Bat-Crab" _ Bahamas AI Art

 ©A. Derek Catalano

 

The Night the Crabs Attacked

 

Prelude

 

The creeks and ponds of Andros island in The Bahamas are the habitats of the land crabs that live there, which are caught and sold as a source of income for many of the Adrosian islanders.

 

But toxic fluids from experiments at a secret US Military Investigation Laboratory Base, had unknowingly been leaking into the creeks and ponds and the crabs were drinking it.

The Lost Research Station

 

 "Lost Research Station" - Bahamas AI Art

©A. Derek Catalano

 

 

The Lost Research Station

 

Chapter 1: Arrival at the Island

The seaplane’s engine buzzed loudly, the sound bouncing off the turquoise water below as it approached the remote island of Soldier Crab Cay in the Bahamas. Dr. Elena Vargas leaned her face against the plane’s window, watching the emerald palm trees sway in the breeze as the small island grew larger. She clutched her notebook tightly, her mind swirling with possibilities. Reports of coral bleaching in such a pristine and isolated area had baffled her colleagues at the Marine Ecological Institute. As a young marine biologist with a reputation for unraveling complex ecological puzzles, Elena had been handpicked for the investigation.

The island’s only dock jutted out over crystal-clear waters, where a skiff waited. A gruff older man, introduced simply as Captain Harris, gestured for Elena to hop aboard. “This place doesn’t see many visitors,” he said as they sped toward the southern tip of the island. “Coral’s been strange lately. Fish, too. The locals stay away from the reefs now.”

Elena raised an eyebrow. “Strange how?”

“Bigger. Brighter. And meaner,” Harris muttered. He said no more, his weathered face grim. Elena shivered, unsure if it was from the ocean breeze or his ominous tone.

That evening, she set up her equipment in a modest shack near the beach. Maps of the coral reefs, water sampling kits, and her dive gear were neatly laid out. As the sun dipped below the horizon, her resolve solidified. Tomorrow, she would explore the reef. The reports, the strange fish, the eerie tales—she was ready to find the truth.

The Redemption of Atlantica

A fantasy story about corruption.

 

 "Fantasy Isle of Atlantica" - Bahamas AI Art

©A. Derek Catalano

 

 

The Redemption of Atlantica

---

Chapter 1: Shadows Over Atlantica

The island kingdom of Atlantica was a realm of breathtaking beauty. It was a place where rolling green hills met sapphire seas, and sun-drenched coasts brimmed with potential for prosperity. Yet, beneath the surface of its stunning landscapes lay a rot as deep as the ocean trenches. Atlantica was ruled by a cadre of corrupt leaders—self-indulgent lords and ladies who resided in their opulent palaces while their people toiled endlessly to fill the coffers of their overlords.

These rulers, known collectively as the Council of Ten, had grown fat on the labors of their subjects. Taxes were levied on every conceivable activity—fishing, farming, trade—and the price of goods had risen so steeply that only the wealthiest merchants could afford to survive comfortably. The leaders were also rumoured to be engaged in the dark undertakings of the shipment of illegal goods through their borders for a price. The Council's symbol, an open palm, had become a bitter joke among the populace: “The Council’s hand is always open—for gold, not aid.”

The heart of this oppression pulsed in the Castle of Justice, a towering structure that loomed over Atlantica’s capital city, Port Prosperity. Ironically named, the castle was no beacon of justice but a monument to tyranny. The Council held court here, issuing cruel edicts and enforcing laws designed to crush dissent. Hidden within the high towers of this imposing fortress lay the Scrolls of Command—documents detailing the Council's web of corruption, secret dealings, and dark conspiracies.

For years, the people of Atlantica endured this grim reality, their hope dimming like a flickering candle in a storm.

 Spawned in a lab from space rock DNA. Now it's missing.

 "Life Form" - Bahamas AI Art

©A. Derek Catalano

 

 

Lab Escape

 

Part 1: The Discovery

On a remote tropical island, nestled among lush palm trees and dense vegetation, a secret lab concealed itself from the world. Funded and operated by the U.S. Secret Space Investigations, this lab was no ordinary research facility. In the dimly lit, high-security labs, scientists experimented on DNA from meteoric rock fragments that had hurtled through space and landed on Earth. Months of splicing alien DNA into Earth-based organisms produced strange, new life forms, some of which, though grotesque, had fascinating potential for research. But one day, one of these creatures—a hulking, sinewy beast with twisted, sinewed limbs, and red, piercing eyes—escaped its containment.

The lab, bound by secrecy, scrambled to handle the escape internally, but it was too late. Out in the wilderness, it would wreak havoc on anything unfortunate enough to cross its path.

"The Forgotten Lighthouse" - Bahamas AI art

©A. Derek Catalano

The Forgotten Lighthouse

Chapter 1: Escape to Isolation

Leonard Davis was no stranger to isolation. A celebrated artist in his early forties, his work had graced gallery walls from New York to Berlin, but fame had come at a price. The galleries, the constant demand for new pieces, the endless interviews—it all had grown too loud, too chaotic for his fragile psyche. City life had become suffocating. He needed silence, he needed space, and most of all, he needed to reclaim his art for himself. That’s when he found the island.

It was a remote Bahamian islet, barely a speck on most maps, known only to a few locals and travelers with a penchant for adventure. But Leonard hadn’t come across it in a travel guide or by word of mouth. It appeared as if by fate, in an obscure online listing: "Lighthouse on secluded island for sale. Perfect for restoration." The ad seemed like a whisper from another world, beckoning him to leave everything behind. The idea of rebuilding a lighthouse had ignited something in him—a challenge, a project far removed from the art world he was eager to escape.

He purchased it within a week, leaving behind New York's relentless rhythm, and arrived on the island with nothing more than his tools, a few personal belongings, and a determination to disappear into his work.

The lighthouse stood as a ghostly silhouette against the turquoise waters, its weathered white stone walls cracked, roof battered by decades of neglect. It seemed to teeter on the edge of existence, as if at any moment, it might crumble into the sea. Leonard loved it instantly.

My Short Story Featured at DA

 

My short story "Bertram and the Square Grouper" got a Daily Feature Award today at Deviantart.Com

 

Wow! Many thanks to Dev Art for the DD. I really appreciate it. Most of all, many thanks to my followers who continue to support me.💗 Thank you, thank you, thank you.😊

I used AI to create the image but NO AI was used to write the story. I used my brain only.😊

 

Took me about 2 hours to write it, imagining and writing and putting it together.

 

You can visit them to read it here or you can read it right here on NativeStew.Com

"Bertram and the Square Grouper" - Bahamas AI art

©A. Derek Catalano

Bertram and the Square Grouper

Bertram Lowe, a middle aged fisherman in The Bahamas, was out in his dingy boat on the sea fishing when he spotted an object floating on the water. He approached it cautiously and discovered it was a bale of marijuana wrapped and tightly sealed in plastic, fresh and undamaged. A big square grouper. It must have just recently been in the sea. Probably lost overboard somehow.

Bertram was happy and afraid too, because he was sure the marijuana belonged to drug traffickers who would want it back. Nevertheless he pulled it aboard and covered it with the tarpaulin he kept onboard that he used to cover up with just in case it rained when he is out fishing.  He sped home with the surprise catch being careful not to be seen and buried it in the bushes by his home, not reporting his find to the police with the hopes that maybe he could make a lot of money from it.

The Booga-Man of Inagua: A Bahamian Folklore Mystery

 

"The Booga-Man" - Bahamas AI art

 ©A. Derek Catalano

 

The Booga-Man of Inagua: A Bahamian Folklore Mystery

Chapter 1: Shadows in the Dark

The island of Inagua, located in the southernmost reaches of the Bahamas, is a place of natural beauty, seclusion, and mystery. Surrounded by pristine waters and dense forests, the island's residents live a simple life, relying on fishing, small-scale farming, and the occasional visitor from Nassau. The settlement is tight-knit, everyone knowing everyone else. But it’s also a place of old legends — and none is more feared than the Booga-Man.

The Last Stand of the Lucayan

 

 "Lucayan Warriors" - Bahamas AI art

©A. Derek Catalano

 

The Last Stand of the Lucayan

 

Part 1: The Gathering Storm

The tropical sun hung low over the turquoise waters of the Lucayan archipelago, casting shimmering rays upon the white sandy shores. The island of Guanahani, home to the peaceful Lucayan people, basked in the warmth of the day, but a tense mood clung to the air. Whispers of war, of imminent invasion, had spread from village to village. Far to the south, the fierce Carib warriors, feared for their brutality and their practice of cannibalism, were stirring, ready to sail northward in their swift canoes.

Among the Lucayan people, no one was more respected than the warrior named Haobam. Tall, strong, and brave, Haobam was a leader among his people, known for his wisdom and unmatched skill in battle. His body, tanned from years of exposure to the sun, bore the scars of past battles, each mark a testament to his bravery. Despite the peace-loving nature of his people, Haobam had trained tirelessly with his warriors, knowing that the threat of the Carib was ever-present.

For the Love of Priscilla

"Capt. Blake and Priscilla" - Bahamas AI art

©A. Derek Catalano

For the Love of Priscilla

In the days of old, when the Caribbean Sea was a wild and untamed frontier, piracy reigned supreme. The aquamarine waters teemed with ships flying the Jolly Roger, captained by men who lived by the sword and the code of the outlaw. These pirates, driven by the lure of treasure and the promise of freedom, plundered merchant vessels and coastal towns with ruthless efficiency. They were masters of the seas, feared by those who crossed their paths and revered by those who shared their bloodthirst for adventure.

Pirate life was a mix of brutality and camaraderie, where loyalty to the crew was paramount, and the pursuit of riches justified any means necessary. Every day was a battle for survival, every night a celebration of the spoils of war. Islands across the Caribbean served as sanctuaries for these marauders, where they could rest, repair their ships, and indulge in the pleasures of rum, gambling, and women.

Among these sanctuaries was a small tropical isle nestled in the warm, crystal-clear waters of The Bahamas. This island, unnamed on any official maps but well-known among the pirate community, became a favored stop for two very different pirate captains—Captain Scarface Ramsey and Captain William Blake. Both men were legends in their own right, but their reputations could not have been more contrasting.

The Lost Treasure of Crimson Isle

 "The Guardian" - Bahamas AI art

©A. Derek Catalano

 

The Lost Treasure of Crimson Isle

Chapter 1: The Map

In the heart of the Caribbean, nestled between turquoise waves and azure skies, lay the serene and vibrant Crimson Isle. The island was a paradise, draped in emerald jungles and surrounded by sandy shores that glistened like gold in the tropical sun. Its beauty, however, held secrets—ancient, forgotten, and buried deep beneath the earth.

Among the island’s inhabitants were two brothers, Aidan and Kael, who had lived on Crimson Isle their entire lives. The sons of a humble fisherman, they spent their days exploring the beaches, diving into the coral reefs, and playing in the dense, untamed jungles. Though their lives were simple, they were rich with the spirit of adventure.

One afternoon, while they were rummaging through an old trunk in their grandfather's rickety, weathered shed, Kael’s hand brushed against something peculiar. It was a tattered piece of parchment, yellowed with age and frayed at the edges. Intrigued, the brothers carefully unfolded the paper to reveal a faded map.

Grammy, Li'l John and the Cerasee

"Grammy and Li'l John" - Bahamas AI art

 ©A. Derek Catalano

 

Grammy, Li'l John and the Cerasee

 

Li'l John wake up feelin' sick. The symptoms of a flu. He wasn't well enough to go to school. He probably caught it from his class mates 'cause da flu gern 'roun'.

So Li'l John's parents drop him off at his Grammy Taylor house for the day and then went on their way to work and would pick him up on the way back home.

Grammy Taylor ask Li'l John how he feel. He say he feel bad. He coughin', and sneezin' and could hardly breathe 'cause his nose all stuff up. She tell him sit down to the table while she cook some breakfast for him to eat.

Grammy Taylor say she got just the cure for Li'l John to take first before he eat anything. Li'l John start tremblin' because that meant only one thing...a cupful of the dreaded, bitter tastin' bush medicine, cerasee. OMG!

The Sinister Shores

"Seaside Obeah House" - Bahamas AI art

©A. Derek Catalano

The Sinister Shores

Pastor Gideon stood by the window of his modest home, the evening sea breeze gently rustling the curtains. The distant murmur of the waves crashing against the rocky shore was a constant in his life, as was the sight of the setting sun dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of red and orange. It was a sight that brought peace to many, but tonight, it brought none to him. His thoughts were far too dark, tainted by the gravity of his actions, the weight of his guilt, and the dread of what was to come.

The island community held Pastor Gideon in high esteem. He was a man of God, a beacon of hope in their small world, where life was often harsh, and the future uncertain. The island was remote, a speck of land in the vast Caribbean Sea, where news from the outside world was scarce and slow to arrive. Here, the pastor’s word was as good as law, and his guidance was sought by many. But beneath the veneer of piety and righteousness, Pastor Gideon harbored a secret that gnawed at his soul.

Future Nassau Dream

 

 

"Future Nassau" - Bahamas AI art

©A. Derek Catalano

 

 

Future Nassau Dream

 by Derek Catalano

Last night I had a dream.

I had a dream that was truly out of this world.

I dream I bin to the future. Yea bey. The future Nassau in The Bahamas. Let me tell ya nah.