鶴咀的夜晚，總是帶著一種無法言喻的詭異。海浪聲不斷地拍打著岩石，像是低語，又像是嘆息。那天，我獨自一人來到這裡，心裡有些忐忑，卻又忍不住被吸引。這地方有一種神秘的魅力，像是藏著什麼不可告人的秘密。天色漸暗，我沿著熟悉的山路走向海蝕洞。周圍靜得出奇，只有風聲和海浪聲相伴。當我站在洞口時，那股熟悉的寒意再次襲來。洞口黑漆漆的，像是一張巨大的嘴巴，等待著吞噬任何靠近它的人。我深吸一口氣，打開手電筒，踏入了洞中。腳下的地面濕滑，隱約能聞到海藻腐爛的氣味。
走進洞裡，外面的光線漸漸被吞沒，四周陷入一片黑暗。手電筒的光柱在岩壁上跳動，映出奇形怪狀的陰影，像是有什麼東西潛伏在暗處窺視著我。海浪聲在洞內迴響，變得更加低沉而悠長，聽起來像是一種低沉的哀號。我不禁加快了腳步，但心中的不安卻越來越強烈。
突然，我聽見了一個聲音。那不是海浪，也不是回聲，而是一種低低的呢喃聲，像是有人在耳邊輕聲說話。我停下腳步，屏住呼吸，四處張望，但什麼都看不見。那聲音忽遠忽近，時而清晰，時而模糊。我試圖分辨出它說了什麼，但耳邊傳來的卻只是一些含糊不清的字句，好像一個人在自言自語，又像是在對誰傾訴。
「有人嗎？」我壓低聲音問道，但我的聲音在洞內被放大成為一連串詭異的迴響。我感到背脊發涼，手心開始冒汗。那聲音依舊在我耳邊縈繞，不曾停歇。我試圖說服自己，那只是風聲或海浪的回音，可是心裡卻明白，那不是自然的聲音。
我繼續往前走，每一步都小心翼翼，生怕踩到什麼不該踩的東西。突然，我的手電筒照到地面上有些奇怪的痕跡，看起來像是人類的腳印，但又不像是新鮮留下的痕跡，更像是早已被時間侵蝕的印記。我蹲下身，用手輕輕觸摸那些痕跡，它們冰冷而濕滑，彷彿帶著某種難以形容的力量。
就在這時，那個呢喃聲變得更加清晰了。我抬起頭，發現手電筒的光柱前方出現了一個模糊的身影。那身影很瘦小，看起來像是一個人，但動作卻異常僵硬。我試圖看清楚它的臉，可是無論我怎麼調整手電筒的角度，那張臉總是隱藏在陰影中。
「你是誰？」我鼓起勇氣問道，但對方沒有回答，只是站在原地，一動不動地看著我。我感到心跳加速，手中的手電筒也開始微微顫抖。就在我猶豫著是否該轉身逃跑時，那身影突然動了。
它慢慢地向我靠近，每一步都發出輕微的水聲。我下意識地後退，但腳下一滑，差點摔倒在地。我努力穩住身體，再次舉起手電筒，可是那身影卻消失了。我四處張望，卻什麼都看不到，只剩下那詭異的呢喃聲在耳邊迴盪。
「你來了……」那聲音突然變得清晰起來，我能聽懂它說的話了。「我們一直在等你……」
我的心臟幾乎停止跳動，全身僵硬得無法動彈。我不知道那聲音從何而來，也無法確定它到底屬於誰。我只能站在原地，像是一個被困住的獵物。
「為什麼？」我忍不住問道，「你們是誰？」
「我們……」那聲音變得更加低沉，「我們是那些……被遺忘的人。」
話音剛落，我突然感到身後有一股寒氣襲來。我猛然轉身，卻什麼都沒看到。但就在我轉身的一瞬間，我感覺到有什麼東西從我耳邊掠過，帶來一陣刺骨的涼意。
「離開這裡……」那聲音再次響起，但這次卻帶著一絲警告的意味。「不要再回來……」
我再也受不了了，轉身就往洞口跑去。腳下的岩石濕滑，我差點摔倒好幾次，但腦子裡只有一個念頭：離開這裡！當我終於跑出洞口時，外面的天已經完全黑了下來。海風呼嘯著，海浪拍打岩石的聲音更加震耳欲聾。
我回頭看了一眼那黑暗的洞口，它依然靜靜地矗立在那裡，看起來和之前沒有什麼不同。但我知道，在它深處，有一些東西正在注視著我。
我沒有再多想，迅速沿著山路往回走。當我回到家時，全身已經被冷汗浸透。那晚，我做了一個夢。在夢中，我再次回到了鶴咀的海蝕洞，但這次，我看到了那些「人」。
他們站在洞裡，每個人都面無表情，眼神空洞。他們的衣服濕漉漉的，看起來像是剛從海裡爬出來。他們伸出手，似乎想要抓住我。他們嘴裡不停地呢喃著，但我聽不懂他們在說什麼。我試圖逃跑，但雙腿卻像灌了鉛一樣無法移動。
驚醒之後，我發現自己滿頭大汗，心跳得飛快。窗外傳來陣陣海浪聲，彷彿在提醒我那個地方的存在。我知道，那些「人」還在等著我，他們從未離開過。他們就在那個洞裡，在黑暗中，在海浪聲中。他們低語著，呼喚著，等待下一個闖入者。
從那以後，我再也沒有去過鶴咀。但每當夜深人靜時，我總能聽見耳邊傳來熟悉的低語聲。那些聲音告訴我，他們還在等我。他們說，有一天，我終究會回去。而當那一天到來時，他們會讓我知道，他們到底是誰，以及他們為什麼一直在等待……
English Version
At night, Cape D’Aguilar in Hong Kong carries a presence that feels both haunting and magnetic, where the relentless sound of waves crashing against jagged rocks echoes through the darkness like a distant conversation, sometimes resembling whispers, sometimes sounding like sorrowful sighs, and it is within this setting that the sea cave, carved slowly by years of erosion, stands as one of the most unsettling places along the coastline, its entrance gaping like a silent mouth waiting to consume the light and anyone who dares to step inside. On the night I went there alone, I could not deny the unease building inside me, yet something about the place drew me forward, as though the cave itself held a secret that demanded to be witnessed, and as dusk faded into full darkness, I followed the familiar path toward the cave, accompanied only by the wind and the constant rhythm of the sea. When I reached the entrance, the darkness within seemed almost tangible, absorbing what little light remained, and after taking a steady breath, I switched on my flashlight and stepped inside, immediately noticing the damp, slippery ground beneath my feet and the faint smell of decaying seaweed lingering in the air. As I moved deeper, the outside world disappeared entirely, replaced by shadows that shifted along the cave walls in response to the beam of my light, forming shapes that felt almost alive, as though something unseen was watching from just beyond the edge of visibility. The sound of the waves intensified within the cave, transformed by the confined space into a low, resonant echo that seemed less like water and more like a drawn-out lament, and despite telling myself it was merely acoustics, the atmosphere grew increasingly oppressive, pressing in from all sides. Then, without warning, I heard something else, a sound distinct from the ocean and unlike any echo I had experienced before, a soft, indistinct murmur, as though someone was speaking just beyond my hearing, the words too blurred to understand yet unmistakably human in tone. I stopped immediately, holding my breath, straining to locate the source, but there was nothing visible, only darkness and the restless movement of shadows, and yet the whispering continued, shifting in volume and direction, sometimes close enough to feel as though it brushed against my ear, sometimes distant, like a voice carried from far away. I called out cautiously, asking if anyone was there, but my voice returned to me in distorted echoes that seemed to twist and overlap, amplifying the sense that I was not alone, and though I tried to rationalize it as the result of wind and water interacting with the cave’s structure, a deeper part of me recognized that the sound did not behave like natural noise. Continuing forward despite the growing fear, I noticed unusual markings on the ground, shapes resembling footprints yet worn and indistinct, as if they had been left long ago and slowly eroded over time, and when I touched them, they felt cold and damp, sending a subtle chill through my hand that lingered even after I pulled away. It was at that moment that the whispering grew clearer, forming words that I could almost understand, and when I raised my flashlight, I saw something ahead, a faint figure standing within the beam, thin and motionless, its outline human yet unnaturally rigid, as though it existed somewhere between form and shadow. I tried to focus on its face, adjusting the angle of the light, but its features remained hidden, obscured by darkness that seemed to cling to it no matter how directly I looked, and when I gathered the courage to speak, asking who it was, there was no response, only silence followed by the continuation of that low, unsettling murmur. Then, slowly, the figure began to move, stepping toward me with a soft, wet sound, each movement echoing faintly against the cave walls, and instinctively I stepped back, my footing slipping slightly on the damp rock as panic surged through me, and in that moment of imbalance, the figure vanished completely, leaving no trace behind. The whispering, however, did not stop, and instead grew louder, clearer, until I could finally make out the words being spoken, a phrase repeated in a tone that felt both distant and immediate at the same time, “You have come… we have been waiting…” The meaning struck me with a force that froze me in place, my body refusing to move as fear took hold, and when I demanded to know who “we” were, the answer came in a low, unified voice that seemed to echo from every direction at once, saying that they were those who had been forgotten. The air grew colder as the words settled around me, and suddenly I felt something pass close behind me, a rush of cold that made me spin around, yet nothing was there, only darkness pressing in from all sides. The voice returned once more, this time carrying a warning rather than an invitation, telling me to leave and not to return, and that was enough to break whatever hesitation remained, driving me to turn and run toward the entrance, slipping and stumbling over the uneven ground as the cave seemed to stretch endlessly behind me, the whispers following, overlapping, fading only as I finally emerged back into the open air. Outside, the night had fully settled, the wind stronger and the sound of the sea louder than before, yet the world felt different, as though I had crossed through something unseen and returned changed. I looked back once at the cave, its entrance dark and silent, giving no indication of what lay within, yet I knew with certainty that something remained there, something aware, something waiting. I never returned to that place, but the experience did not end that night, as in the days that followed, I found myself haunted by dreams in which I stood once more within the cave, surrounded by figures emerging from the darkness, their faces empty, their clothes soaked as though they had risen from the sea, their hands reaching toward me as their voices merged into a single, incomprehensible murmur. Even after waking, the sensation lingered, and sometimes, in the quietest moments, I could still hear faint echoes of those whispers, reminding me that whatever I encountered that night had not truly let me go, and that somewhere within the depths of that cave, beneath the sound of the waves, there are voices that continue to speak, waiting patiently for the next person who dares to step inside and listen closely enough to hear what they are saying.