Shrouded Seascape

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"Just follow my orders! I know my ship better than anyone else!!" Charles shouted at the pipe that was connected to the boiler room. He then lowered his head to meet Old John's gaze. "John! Unload half of the cargo!"

Charles knew that hesitation was not an option in crucial moments; one's life was more important than anything else.

"Aye!" The stout old man kicked the door open and exited the pilot house.

Charles felt a pang in his heart as he listened to the sound of the cargo splashing into the water. Fortunately, the series of measures taken proved effective. After enduring a few more collisions, the nimble S.S. Mouse began to pick up speed and gradually left the pursuing entity behind.

When Charles finally laid his sight upon the real navigation marker appearing at the bow, he released his grip on the helm, his body in cold sweat.

The trembling young lad on the ground crawled to Charles' side and clung tightly on the latter's thigh.

"Ca-Captain, I-I just... I just saw..."

Charles immediately grabbed the boy’s face in one hand to stop him from talking.

"Before we boarded the ship, what was the third thing I told you?"

"Don't look at the monsters in the sea. Don't even think of them. Unless they come close to our ship, don't even utter a word even if we see them..."

"Very well. Now stand up, drop the anchor, and notify everyone to gather on the deck. I want to do a headcount." After completing his sentence, Charles let go of Dipp and left the pilot house.

The deck was in complete disarray, with water pooling everywhere. Ropes that were used to bind cargo in place were floating aimlessly on the water's surface.

Wading through the seawater that reached his calves, Charles made his way to the stern. The spindle-shaped aft section had a deep indentation, as though it had been struck by a massive hammer. The entire stern was also covered in an unknown black substance, and it gave off a foul odor.

The aftermath alone gave a vivid impression of the size of the creature that had collided with the ship just now. However, after going on countless nautical expeditions for eight years, Charles had grown accustomed to such encounters, so his curiosity had been eroded over time. At this moment, he was preoccupied with other thoughts.

"Fixing this will cost a bomb again..." Charles muttered, frustration mounting within him. He was another step away from his dream.

Just then, the murmurs in his ear sounded again, echoing from the depths of the surrounding darkness.

"ph...nglui mglw...nafh...."

"Fuck!" With his brows pressed together, Charles clenched a fist and repeatedly struck his forehead with the back of the fist. The physical pain helped to momentarily drown out the unsettling whispers plaguing him.

When he saw that the rest of the crew had started to gather on the deck, Charles ceased his self-inflicted punishment and made his way over to them.

Upon seeing their captain approaching, the group of men of varying heights hastily lined up in a row. Their appearances differed, but their pale faces were of the exact same shade as Charles', devoid of that healthy crimson hue.

"John. Position: First Mate. Duty: To assist the Captain in organizing work plans and responsible for compiling the cargo loading schedule. Helmsman covering the 1200 to 2400 shift!" The stout old man was the first to recite his duties.

Standing beside Old John was a tall and robust figure. His blue attire was smeared with traces of grease. Without skipping a beat, he swiftly added his own introduction.

"James. Position: Second Engineer. Duty: Maintaining the proper functioning of the engine room. Overseeing the propulsion system, auxiliary equipment, boilers, lubrication, cooling, and fuel."

Next to James was a skinny man, tall and thin like a utility pole.

"Frey. Position: Cook. Duty: Preparing crew's meals."

Following the cook was a visibly distressed Dipp. He appeared unsteady on his feet, still trying to recover from the recent events.

"Di-Dipp. Position: A.B. . Duty: Maintaining and repairing the deck, as well as handling the anchor, ropes, and loading and unloading equipment."

Charles swiftly scanned the four individuals in front of him and immediately noticed that one person was missing.

"Where's the boatswain?"

The four individuals exchanged glances with each other but none could provide an answer.

"AHHHHHHH!!" Suddenly, a horrifying scream echoed from below the deck.

"Something has come aboard! Grab your weapons!" Charles exclaimed, leading the group as they rushed toward the source of the disturbance.

When they arrived at the dimly lit crew's quarters, the sight made them feel a chilling sensation up their spine.

In the shadowy premises, there were only two figures present. One of them stood upright. It was the boatswain of S.S. Mouse, and his face was filled with terror.

The other figure lay sprawled on the floor, and his face could not be discerned due to his complete lack of skin. Every time this mysterious person moved, the exposed flesh touching the floor caused him excruciating pain, making him tremble in agony. The bloodied figure let out pitiful cries and struggled in despair; his breath grew weaker with each passing moment. fre(e)webnov(l).com

"Jim! Ask who he is!" Charles swiftly retrieved the revolver holstered to his left waist.

Trembling with fear, the boatswain crawled over to the mangled head, leaning in to listen intently.

A few seconds later, he turned around, his face tinged with apparent panic. He pointed a trembling finger at Charles and said, "C-captain... He... He said he's you!"

"Me?"

Hearing the flustered footsteps of the crew members behind him, Charles speedily pointed his gun at the boatswain.

"Charles. Position: Captain. Duty: Safe transportation and administrative management of the vessel. Ensures the utmost safety of the ship and crew's lives and property. Decisively and prudently handle all affairs in case of emergencies. Helmsman covering the 0000 to 1200 shift! Boatswain! Report your position this instant!"

"Quick! Kill him! He's not your captain!" the boatswain exclaimed in terror, his trembling finger still pointed at Charles.

Bang!

Charles pulled the trigger and a bullet pierced through the boatswain's forehead, leaving a bloody hole. Yet, it was not blood that oozed out of the wound, but rather a semi-solid, dark yellow substance.

Now that his identity had been exposed, the body of the injured boatswain started to contort and change. His mouth opened all the way to the back of his head, and his limbs rapidly bulged. With an eerie animalistic growl, the monstrosity charged toward Charles.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bullets rained onto the contorted boatswain, and the human skin on the creature was torn apart like a burlap sack, revealing the convoluted, blackened, decaying torso within that resembled a diseased toad.

Even after taking six bullets, the creature was still alive. It spread out its four limbs as it lunged at the human standing in front of it.

Seemingly unfazed by the situation after many similar encounters, Charles rolled to the side just in time to evade the monster's attack.

Wasting not a single second, he hurriedly reloaded his revolver with another six rounds and fired them at the monster.

Under the onslaught of twelve bullets, the monster's disjointed legs gave way, and it collapsed weakly onto the ground.

Panting heavily, Charles took a brief glance at the nauseating corpse before turning to look at the terrified crew members standing behind him.

"Don't just stand there. Throw this damn thing overboard," Charles commanded and walked toward the motionless bloodied corpse at the side.

Ignoring the overwhelming stench of blood, he used his hand and turned the corpse’s head for a better look. When he saw the missing front tooth in the mouth, he knew that this was the real boatswain, while the one earlier was an imposter, a sea monster using his crew member's skin as its disguise.

A pained expression briefly flashed across Charles' countenance, but he quickly composed himself. He retrieved a couple of bullets from his pocket and left the crew's cabin to patrol the ship and search for any lingering threats.

***

Dipp struggled alongside First Mate John as they carried the corpse.

The young lad was astonished and exclaimed, "The captain is so amazing."

"Haha. ‘Course he is. That's why he's the capt'n, and yer just a lowly sailor. Truth be told, when he first stepped aboard, he was just like ye."

"Really? What was Captain Charles like when he first became a sailor?"

"That be a tale of the ages, aye. 'Bout seven or eight years ago, I was still servin' as a third mate on another ship. That was when Charles appeared driftin’ on the waters. When I first met 'im, he couldn’t say a single word, can ye believe that?"

"Really? Then how did he become the Captain?"

"The ol' capt’n took pity on 'im, and allowed 'im to follow the ship from a distance. When we reached the harbor, we figured he was no monster and let 'im stay as crew. He learned to talk while learnin' the ways of a sailor. When he finally learned how to speak, he announced his gran' ambition—to captain a ship and lead all o' humanity back to the land o' light. We all thought he'd gone mad, ye know."

"And what happened after?"

"After, he went from A.B. to boatswain, an’ then to third mate. We recked he’d climb again to become second mate, but he surprised us all. He actually saved enough to buy 'imself a second hand cargo ship. Aye, this very vessel we're on, matey. S.S. Mouse."

1. A.B. stands for able seaman