Chapter 3: Sharknado Formation
The sky over Amity Island, once clear and calm, had turned into a swirling vortex of doom. The weather had been weird all day—clouds rolling in, strange gusts of wind kicking up sand—but no one could have predicted this shit.
It started with a low rumble. The kind that creeps up your spine, making you feel like something is horribly wrong before you even know what the fuck is happening. Michael Brody stood on the docks, looking out over the water, eyes narrowed at the horizon. The storm wasn't normal—he knew that much. The air felt electric, like it was alive and pissed off.
Then, the rumble grew louder. What started as a hum became a deafening roar as the wind picked up speed, whipping through the streets of Amity Island with a fury no one had ever seen before.
"Jesus Christ…" Michael muttered, realizing too late what was coming. The Sharknado warnings, the strange disturbances, the rising shark activity—it was all connected.
The fucking Sharknado was here.
Within moments, the sky opened up. A massive, swirling tornado touched down just off the coast, its violent winds sucking up everything in its path—trees, boats, debris, and then… sharks. Hundreds of them. The ocean surged as the monstrous waterspout pulled them into the air, spinning them around like toys caught in a blender. Sharks of all sizes—bull sharks, hammerheads, and even a few great whites—were ripped from the sea and flung into the air like deadly missiles.
"Everyone get the fuck inside!" Michael shouted, his voice barely audible over the roaring wind as he sprinted toward the nearest shelter. The docks were already falling apart, splintered wood flying through the air like shrapnel.
As the tornado moved inland, it unleashed its terrifying payload. Sharks—fucking flying sharks—began raining from the sky.
The first one hit the ground with a wet, bone-crunching THUD in the middle of Main Street. Blood splattered everywhere as the beast flopped wildly on the pavement, jaws snapping at anything that moved. People screamed, scattering in every direction, but there was no outrunning what came next.
More sharks began to fall—some crashing through windows, others landing on rooftops and cars. The entire town was under siege from the sky, as if the gods themselves had decided to punish Amity Island with a storm straight out of hell.
Panic spread fast. One of the sharks slammed into a grocery store, its body breaking through the front window and crashing into a shelf of canned goods. It thrashed violently, sending broken glass and blood flying as people scrambled to get away.
A young couple running down the street didn't stand a chance. A hammerhead shark, thrown by the storm, came hurtling toward them like a goddamn torpedo, its jaws wide open. The shark hit the man first, knocking him to the ground with a sickening crack as its teeth tore into his back. His girlfriend screamed, trying to pull him away, but the shark was too quick. In seconds, it had dragged him into the street, thrashing and ripping him apart like a ragdoll.
Another shark—a great white this time—crashed into a car parked near the beach, crushing it under its massive weight. The vehicle exploded on impact, sending a ball of fire into the air, but the shark kept moving, dragging its half-burned body across the road as it hunted for more flesh.
"What the fuck is happening?!" someone shouted, but there were no answers. Only chaos.
Michael ducked into a nearby alley, barely avoiding another shark that landed with a wet slap a few feet away from him. His heart pounded in his chest as he pressed himself against the wall, trying to catch his breath. This was worse than anything he could have imagined. It wasn't just a freak storm—it was an apocalypse.
The wind howled, and above him, the Sharknado continued to rage, pulling more and more sharks into its deadly orbit. Every time the storm moved, it brought fresh horrors.
Michael pulled out his phone, his hands shaking as he dialed Fin Shepard's number. The guy was a Sharknado expert, and right now, that's exactly what they needed. But as the line rang, he watched in horror as another massive great white soared through the air, its jaws snapping as it flew over the rooftops.
No answer.
"Fuck!" Michael swore, pocketing his phone. He had to think—he had to do something before the entire town was devoured. The Sharknado wasn't stopping, and neither were the sharks.
A few blocks away, the town's emergency sirens blared, but it was too late for warnings. The people of Amity Island were already running for their lives, desperately trying to escape the flying predators raining down on them from the sky.
Michael knew there was no running from this. Not unless they stopped the Sharknado itself.
He sprinted toward the town square, dodging debris and sharks alike, his mind racing. There had to be a way to stop this—some way to turn the tide before the entire island was destroyed.
But as he reached the center of town, his heart sank.
Jaws was back.
The monstrous great white that had terrorized Amity Island years ago was now bigger, meaner, and angrier than ever. It swam through the churning water like a demon from the deep, and now, thanks to the Sharknado, it was airborne, soaring above the rooftops, jaws snapping in the wind.
The storm had become a battleground between the sharks, the wind, and the townspeople.
And Amity Island was losing.
Sharknado Formation
The day started like any other on Amity Island: calm, gray skies with the steady rhythm of waves crashing against the shore. Tourists strolled along the beach, and locals went about their routines, blissfully unaware of the nightmare about to descend.
The first sign of something seriously wrong wasn't the wind. It wasn't even the sudden drop in temperature that made everyone instinctively zip up their jackets. It was the sky—a deep, swirling vortex of black clouds forming over the ocean, like nature itself had decided to go full-throttle apocalyptic.
Michael Brody stood at the docks, staring at the horizon as the storm began to build. His gut clenched. He had studied storms before—cyclones, hurricanes, everything—but this? This was something else entirely. "This is bad," he muttered under his breath.
The storm didn't give him time to warn anyone. The wind howled, trees bent at impossible angles, and the sea roared angrily as the clouds above began to spin faster, darker. Then came the sharks.
"Holy shit…" Michael whispered as the first shark—about ten feet of teeth and muscle—was sucked up into the air, flailing helplessly as it spun into the vortex. He watched in disbelief as more sharks, dozens of them, began to rise from the ocean, pulled into the storm like it had a personal vendetta against the sea itself.
And then, like the gods had decided to kick Amity Island right in the nuts, the Sharknado formed.
It hit the town like a bomb.
The wind screamed as sharks began to rain from the sky, their bodies slamming into the streets, the boardwalk, the rooftops. The first one crashed through a shop window, its body flopping wildly inside as it snapped at anything that moved. People screamed and ran, but there was nowhere to hide. The fucking sharks were coming from everywhere.
A woman near the beach was the first to go. She was running, trying to get her kids out of the water, when a massive hammerhead shark fell from the sky like some sort of twisted meteor. The thing landed on her, teeth first, with a wet crunch that echoed through the chaos. Blood splattered across the sand as the beast thrashed, tearing into her, while her children screamed in horror.
Further down the street, an SUV swerved to avoid a shark that had landed in the middle of the road, its enormous body tearing chunks of asphalt as it flopped madly. The driver lost control, sending the vehicle crashing into a storefront, right as a tiger shark smashed through the windshield, jaws wide, teeth gnashing. The people inside didn't stand a chance. Blood splattered across the glass, followed by the sounds of flesh being ripped apart.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" someone yelled as another shark came down, this one slamming into the roof of a nearby diner. Its weight collapsed the ceiling, sending customers inside into a frenzy of panic as they tried to scramble out, only to be met by another shark crashing through the window, teeth gnashing and eyes wild.
Michael watched in horror from the docks, helpless as chaos tore through the town. Sharks flew through the air like missiles, some crashing down into buildings, others diving straight into the streets, killing anything in their path. People were running for their lives, but the sharks were everywhere, falling from the sky like some kind of nightmare that had become all too real.
"Fucking Sharknado!" he shouted, the wind nearly ripping his voice from his throat. He turned and ran, adrenaline kicking in as the storm bore down on the island.
As Michael sprinted toward the marina, another shark hit the ground just feet away from him, its body skidding across the pavement in a mess of fins and teeth. It lunged at him, jaws snapping, and he barely managed to leap out of the way, heart hammering in his chest.
He stumbled to his feet, breathless, and glanced back at the chaos unfolding behind him. Buildings were being torn apart, people were getting ripped to shreds, and the storm was only getting stronger.
In the middle of it all, the sharks kept raining down like some biblical plague.
The sound of breaking glass caught his attention. He turned just in time to see a shark crash through the window of a nearby house, its body flopping madly as it tore into the living room. The family inside screamed as they ran for cover, but it was too late. The beast snapped its jaws, catching one of them in its mouth, blood spraying across the room.
Michael gritted his teeth, fury building inside him as the Sharknado continued its path of destruction. This wasn't just a storm. This was a goddamn massacre.
He had to do something. Now.
Amid the swirling chaos of the Sharknado, the ground quaked as the wind howled, whipping the sea into a frenzy. Sharks rained down like living bombs, tearing through Amity Island with reckless abandon. The air was thick with screams, the wet splatter of blood, and the guttural snaps of gnashing teeth.
But then, something else emerged from the water.
The sea exploded as Jaws—the monstrous great white shark—rose from the depths, his massive body cutting through the water like a goddamn tank. He was bigger than any shark Amity Island had ever seen. Scars lined his thick hide, his eyes gleamed with a malevolent intelligence, and his jaws… they were legendary, the same jaws that had terrorized the town decades ago.
But Jaws wasn't here for the humans. He wasn't hunting them this time. No, this was different. He was here because his waters were being invaded.
The moment he surfaced, Jaws locked onto the sight of the airborne sharks spiraling through the storm like deranged vultures. His territory was being bombarded by these unnatural, flying intruders, and he wasn't about to let it slide.
Jaws propelled himself upward, smashing through the water with terrifying speed, breaching the surface in a towering leap. He launched himself at one of the airborne sharks—a massive mako shark that had been flung from the storm. The two beasts collided mid-air with a bone-rattling impact. Jaws sunk his legendary teeth into the mako's belly, tearing through flesh and bone like it was nothing.
The air filled with a sickening rip as Jaws twisted his head, ripping the mako in half before plummeting back into the ocean, dragging the mangled remains beneath the surface with him.
For a brief moment, Michael Brody, watching from the docks, couldn't believe his eyes. "What the fuck…?" he muttered, breathless, staring as the great white shot through the waves again, tearing another flying shark out of the air like it was hunting seagulls.
Jaws was defending his territory.
The massive shark was a force of nature, more terrifying than anything the Sharknado could conjure. As more sharks were hurled from the sky, Jaws attacked relentlessly, his jaws clamping down on them one after another. He ripped through the invaders with savage precision, tearing them to pieces, blood filling the churning waters.
Another hammerhead fell from the sky, flailing as it was sucked into the storm's vortex. Jaws wasted no time. He surged upward, his powerful tail propelling him faster than anyone thought possible, and slammed into the hammerhead mid-flight. His teeth found purchase in its neck, and with a single violent shake, he decapitated the beast in a spray of blood and cartilage.
As Jaws crashed back into the sea, the storm above him raged on. The Sharknado was pulling more and more sharks into the sky, hurling them toward Amity Island, but Jaws was undeterred. He was a fucking war machine, a predator at the top of the food chain, and these airborne interlopers were about to learn the hard way that the ocean belonged to him.
He dove deep beneath the waves, his enormous body vanishing into the dark waters for just a moment before he launched himself upward again, his massive form cutting through the air like a missile. This time, he took down two sharks—snatching a tiger shark mid-flight and slamming it into a smaller blue shark with such force that their bodies practically exploded on impact, blood raining down onto the stormy seas.
Michael stood there, heart pounding, caught between terror and awe. The island was still being torn apart by the Sharknado, but Jaws had become a terrifying symbol of nature's raw power, turning the chaos of the storm into his personal hunting ground.
In the midst of the destruction, as the storm churned and sharks rained down in endless waves, Jaws continued his brutal assault on the airborne predators. Each time he surfaced, he dragged another invader into the abyss, his jaws stained red with the blood of his enemies.
But even as Jaws defended his ocean with unmatched fury, the Sharknado above raged on, growing stronger, darker, and more unpredictable. It wasn't just the sharks that Amity Island had to worry about anymore—it was whatever came next.
And whatever was coming… Jaws wasn't the only one who'd be facing it.