The Last Transmission

The crackle of the VHF radio broke the quiet hum of the cabin.

“—day, May—... Mayday...”

Mike leaned forward, fingers adjusting the squelch knob of the radio to cut through the static. The voice returned, choppy and low — definitely a woman’s.

“All... dead. I—only... survivor.”

Goosebumps prickled down his arms. He grabbed the mic. “Unidentified vessel, this is the Chalkydron, repeat your position. Over.”

Nothing but static.

He flipped to the secondary display, pulled up radar — no nearby contacts. The AIS was blank. He tried again.

“Mayday caller, we received your transmission. Can you give your coordinates? What is your vessel's name?”

There was a pause. Then, softly:

“Turn around.”

The hairs on his neck stood straight and he turned his head to the stern. Fog greeted him as it began wrapping around the ship, snuffing the sun’s evening glow. He looked back to his distress beacon and gulped – it finally locked onto the signal.

The call was coming from directly below his position.

A loud horn cut through the fog, snapping Mike’s attention up. He reached for his own horn switch and pressed long and hard. Two more blasts cut through the fog and Mike turned on the ship’s deck lights.

“Unidentified vessel – This is the HMS Chronospear. You’re transmitting a distress signal. Confirm status,” a male voice came through his radio.

“This is the Chalkydron. Wasn’t me,” Mike responded. “I heard the call, but my beacon is pinging the signal to be coming from directly beneath me. Over.”

“Say Again?”

Mike gripped the arm of his seat.

“The coordinates match this location, but I did not transmit the signal. Over.”

Just as Mike answered the question, a larger naval ship’s outline began to appear in the fog.

“Chalkydron - We have received a distress signal originating from your location. For your safety and ours, we request permission to come alongside and conduct a boarding inspection. Please respond.”

“Permission granted. Standing by.” Mike turned off his engine and let the boat drift in idle – ready for boarding. He watched across the fog as a small boarding party gathered and lowered into the water.

Their RIB sped across, slapping against the waves. One of the members tossed a line to Mike and he tied it off.

A young man in uniform stood and boarded the ship first. He stretched out a gloved hand and Mike grasped it firmly.

“Chief Petty Officer Bradly of the HMS Chronospear,” the young man told him.

“Captain Mike Harrow, Chalkydron.”

Chief Bradly’s gaze swept over the empty deck.

“Is there anyone else on board?”

“Just me. I was just returning home from a day of fishing when the distress signal came through.”

Chief Bradly nodded, face still stern.

“Do you mind if we take a look below?” he asked Mike and pointed toward the cabin.

“Not at all,” Mike offered and walked them through. He showed them his sleeping quarters in the lower level. “As you can see, there’s not much room in her for a large crew.”

Above, Mike’s radio cracked again.

“May—... Mayday..” a woman’s voice rang through. Mike and Chief Bradly glanced at each other before rushing up the steps.

“Bradly, is everything alright over there? Over,” a voice came through Chief Bradly’s handheld.

“Everything is fine here. Do you hear the distress signal? Over.”

“We do. We are looking for the source as we speak. You may want to wrap it up over there and return so we find the vessel. Over.”

“Confirmed,” Chief Bradly turned back to Mike.

“I suppose—” he started but Mike’s radio came through again.

“I am the only survivor left!” a female’s voice came clearly. Chief Bradly froze.

“Petty Officer Williams, front and center!” he called out to his team. A woman stepped forward and saluted.

“Yes, sir?” she asked.

“That voice sounded just like you, is there any chance there may be a recording somehow?”

She glanced at the radio. Static sizzled for a moment, then, as if to answer an unspoken question, a voice rang through again.

“Save yourselves…” the voice said. Everyone looked at the radio, then back to Petty Officer Williams. Her eyes widened in horror.

“Sir, I don’t understand. That IS my voice, but I’ve never recorded any messages. I swear.”

Chief Bradly looked unamused.

“As protocol, I’ll need to escort you back to the ship,” he told her.

Resigned, she nodded once.

“Understood Chief. Lead the way.”

Chief Bradly took a step forward but suddenly, the entire boat jolted, causing him to lose his footing.

Everyone looked around, trying to find the source.

Another jolt. This time, several of them fell.

“Something’s hitting the boat,” Chief Bradly spoke into his radio. “Can you see anything? Over.”

“Chief Bradly, unfortunately, we’re dealing with something over here as well! The ship is taking a lot of damage! Whatever this is, it isn’t small…oh god. No…” a voice shouted through.

Everyone’s gaze shifted to the Naval ship. Large tentacles slithered up the sides, whipping through the air and grabbing members aboard. Screams rang across the water.

Chief Bradly turned to Mike.

“Captain Harrow, I’m assuming control over this vessel under emergency authority. Get us moving – NOW.”

Mike nodded and sprinted into the cabin. Williams followed close behind.

“Captain, I’ve been trained on high-speed maneuvers for smaller, civilian vessels and I’m the best of my crew. Permission to take the helm?” she asked, saluting.

Mike glanced back at Chief Bradly through the window, who was now busy barking orders to the rest of his team. He nodded to Williams and stepped aside.

“Try not to wreck her,” he instructed and she nodded.

The engine roared to life and Williams eased the throttle forward. Her hands maneuvered the boat steadily and steered them away from the unfolding chaos.

“Impressive,” he said, watching her.

“Thank you, sir, but we’re not clear yet,” she responded, eyes staring ahead at the thick fog that still splayed across the sea.

“Right – you get us out of here, I’ll check on the others.” He bolted out of the cabin, leaving Williams to navigate.

She glanced at the sonar screen. A massive blip moved across then vanished. She gripped the wheel tighter.

Memories of her fallen comrades’ screams still rang in her ears. She squinted at the fog, trying desperately to see anything through it, but there was nothing. No horizon. No end.

Then, something flickered on the radar. A single blip, then disappeared quickly.

She grabbed the mic for the radio and began shouting.

“Mayday. Mayday. Mayday. This is Petty Officer Williams of the HMS Chronospear. I am aboard the Chalkydron. We are in distress! Please respond!”

No response.

“Mayday. Mayday. Mayday. This is—” Suddenly, the boat jolted again, tossing the mic from Williams’ hand. As she reached down to grab it, she heard a scream just outside the cabin.

She stood and turned to look behind her. Outside, she could see a long, purple and blue tentacle reaching up and wrapping itself around the boat.

Heart pounding, she spun back to the helm. GPS speed read 0.0 knots. They stopped moving.

“Mayday. Mayday. Mayday. This is Petty Officer Williams, aboard the Chalkydron. We are in distress! Someone – please respond!” she shouted. More screams came from outside and she watched as, one by one, the tentacles grabbed and dragged each member off board. Mike, Chief Bradly, they were all gone.

“Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!” she sobbed. “This is Petty Officer Williams, aboard the Chalkydron. The rest of the crew – they’re all dead! I am the only survivor left! Please respond!”

The boat shook violently, throwing Williams to the floor. She stayed, clutching the mic like a lifeline.

“Please,” she pleaded.

Suddenly, a voice responded on the radio.

“Unidentified vessel, this is the Chalkydron, repeat your position. Over.”

Her eyes flashed at the radio as realization swept over her. She raised the mic once more.

“Turn around,” she said. “Don’t come here. Please. Save yourselves.”

Dropping the mic, she stood and walked out of the cabin to face her fate. Ahead, the fog was thinning. The setting sun split through like a final breath of light.

A wall of teeth rose from the sea, surrounding the boat. She had nowhere left to run.

And, just before the monster snapped its jaw, a faint green flash rippled across the horizon – like a warning. Then, nothing but darkness.