The ChillX Zone

A Paranormal Report from the Bay of Bengal

December 23, 2025

The night sea off the Kuakata coast was calm, the kind of calm that feels unnatural. Fishermen onshore spotted the first light just after dusk, a white flame hovering above the waves. Then another. Then several more. They drifted like lanterns at a funeral procession, gliding in a formation no wind could control. Locals call them the Jinn Trawler Lights — and they say once those lights appear, no boat should leave shore. Yet someone always does.

By midnight, three trawlers had gone out. Only one came back.

A Boat With No Crew

The trawler that returned glided into the dock without engine power, nets still hanging, ropes trailing into the water like severed veins. Its deck was soaked, not with seawater, but with condensation that clung to the wood like cold breath. Every tool was in its proper place. Every lantern was still burning. Every sign said the crew should be onboard.

But there were no voices. No footsteps. No lives.

From the dock, a half-dozen men watched in silence as the boat bumped against the mooring post, rocking as though someone was still walking across it. One man, a veteran fisherman, whispered that the boat looked “tired.” Another swore he saw fingerprints on the inside of the fogged windows, as if someone had pressed their hands there from within the cold.

Whispers From the Waterline

Those who approached the shore say they heard something like radio static carried over the waves. A whispering that sounded almost like human speech, but layered beneath it was something deeper, like a song sung from under the surface. One young deckhand said he heard names being called — not shouted, but beckoned.

He claimed he heard his own name once.
He refused to go closer after that.

From the treeline, the floating lights had shifted closer to land, hovering just above the tide. They seemed to grow brighter each time the waves receded, like the ocean was breathing them in and out.

Footprints in the Sand With Nowhere to Go

At dawn, footprints appeared where the missing trawler crews should have returned. Bare feet, close together, forming a path from the shoreline to the dunes. But there were no prints leading into the sea. Only away from it. The tracks stopped beneath a wall of mangroves, ending in a clean, sharp line as if the walkers stepped into nothingness.

An elder in the village said the sea doesn’t always take the living. Sometimes it trades.

A Coastline Running Out of Explanations

Officials claim it is misnavigation, exhaustion, panic, anything but what the locals insist they saw. They say there were no lights. They say the missing men drowned. They say nothing unusual happened. But if the men drowned, why is the boat unbroken? Why is it warm inside when the sea is cold? Why are there no bodies?

And why were the nets pulled in, full, as if someone else finished the job?

The villagers are done asking authorities for answers. They say the sea is acting like it remembers something. And they fear it will come again the next night the tide pulls too far back.

When the lights return, the ocean will not be alone.