0 comments

Fiction Horror Suspense

This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse.

Cassandra Vale walks carefully down the cold metallic hallway of the ship she was on. Cruise ship? No. Instead it was a fishing ship that Cassandra was graciously allowed on to research the fish being caught along their route. Specifically, Cassandra was hoping to do some possible observations on the Atlantic Bluefin Tuna species that a majority of the world partakes in. The size variants throughout the last few months have been irregular from the data received from these very same fishermen. Cassandra’s higher up however, wanted an “educated” opinion on things. 

Thinking about it as she walks, Cassandra scoffs to herself. As if that wasn’t enough of a debilitating mentality to bring with onto the ship, Cassandra’s lack of fondness for being at sea, even though it’s most if not all of the career that she’s wanting to get into, added to her uneasy mental state. Her stomach churns as the waves roughly rock her own body back and forth. She puts her hand on her own mouth for a second and closes her eyes to try and stabilize herself. Cradling her stomach now as she leans against the cold wall of the ship she actually looks around at where she’s accidentally wandered into. 

What once were white metallic walls with wooden accents and safety railings transformed into a silver gray color with rust outlining where pieces of metal meet and are riveted together. A grasping darkness lurked at the edges of the light cast against the walls by the small and bare lightbulbs jutting out from the wall here and there. 

“Is this the place they told me not to go into? Deep storage I think they called it?” Cassandra whispered to herself. 

“Hello?!” A voice echoes out through the hall and reaches Cassandra’s ears. 

“I-Is anyone out there?!” It continues to ask from a dark corner of the storage area Cassandra was now in. 

“Y-yes! I’m here.” Cassandra reluctantly said aloud.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to wander back here. I just- you know how seasickness is right?” Cassandra said as she walked toward the source of the voice she heard. Amongst boxes of cargo, wet wire fishing cages, and some supplies left about loosely was a large crate that was considerably bigger than the others. A small hole to look inside of the crate was placed on the side facing Cassandra, as well as iron bars on the hole. 

“A prison?” Cassandra muttered to herself.

“Ah- not exactly.” The person inside the box said. Confirming that he is indeed inside of the crate.

“See, I was one of the workmen on this ship and while transferring some cargo before leaving the shore, I accidentally fell in here from the top. I’ve been waiting what feels like ages for someone to come along and let me out of here!” The voice explained from inside the crate. 

A pause between words as Cassandra furrows her brow trying to see more of the crate in the darkness.

“It looks rather sealed.” Cassandra says to the person in the crate. “I think I’ll have to grab someone else to-”

“No!” The voice shouts roughly, almost sounding like his mouth snarled at the corners. “I mean- last thing I need is for my boss to see that I made this big mistake on one of my first trips… I- I really need this job. I don’t want to go back to what I used to do.” The voice stopped.

Cassandra stops for a moment and looks back the way she came from. The light from the hallway flickering slightly, almost beckoning her to come away.

“Alright I suppose… How did you fall in again? From above the crate?” She asked the voice.

“Yes. It’s quite embarrassing if you’d like to hear the story while you try to get me out.” The getting deeper voice said.

“Um, that’s up to you. I’m just going to focus on trying to get you out.” Cassandra says as she gets on top of a wooden box near the crate. She feels something interesting against the wood, a long line- no, an indention in the crate that was made roughly by something. 

“It’s quite funny actually. I figure why not tell it as well since we have some time until I’m out, I’m sure.” The voice cleared its throat and began to sound raspy as it spoke toward Cassandra.

“Ahem. Once upon a time, there was a little fisherman who was on a boat in the middle of the sea.” Cassandra rolled her eyes to the beginning of the story. She never enjoyed fairy tales either, or how they were framed. 

“This fisherman however was different in a particular way. He had a task to fulfill by the end of the trip and if he didn’t do it, he would be in grave danger. The task was ever so simple: get on the ship, survive the trip with food and water, and make it back home. After all, isn’t that what we all want? To go home?” The voice says as Cassandra begins to think of her own home. Fluffy cat, fluffy blankets, and ice cream. As comfortable as pigs in a blanket together. She feels a pang in her heart as she continues to look over the crate for some kind of opening that the owner of the voice can get out of. 

“Home is definitely somewhere nice. I’d rather be there right now! Dry, with my blankets, and with my Charlie.” Cassandra says and smiles to herself while saying Charlie’s name.

“Charlie? Do I hear that maybe you are taken?” The voice says in an almost sultry-like manner. It paired nicely with his already deep and raspy voice. Cassandra laughs a little to herself however in response to the question.

“Charlie is my cat, he’s an American long hair breed with some gorgeous looking eyes. He’s just like you though. He can hear me from a mile away.” Cassandra says and laughs as she now climbs on top of the crate to get a better view of the wooden panel used as a roof for the crate. 

“Oh… I’m not so much a fan of cats as I prefer dogs. Cats are fun in a way, they play very… cutely. And what do you mean by that statement?” The voice asks.

“The one about your hearing? I mean, you heard me whispering and muttering to myself a few times, so… I just assumed that you have really great hearing.” Cassandra says as her eyes get caught toward a small circular porthole that was almost level with the crate itself. Looking outside the ship and into the deep trench-like water. She spots the full moon above, covered by clouds for this moment. A pointed silence between the two becomes noticeable to Cassandra. A deep breath was heard from within the crate.

“You remind me of my nephew. He always used to say the same things.” The voice continues as Cassandra watches the clouds reveal more moonlight. 

“Oh yeah?” She says as the growing moonlight shines against the heads of hearty nails lodged deeply into the top of the crate to keep the wooden panel in place. She swallows slightly and clears her throat as she slowly crawls down from on top of the crate.

“What makes you say that?” She asks.

“Once upon a time,” The voice says and grunts afterward. “There wasn’t a fisherman, but instead a-” A groan of pain is heard from within as something thuds against the wooden crate.

“Instead,” The voice heaves in a breath and is heard panting from within. “There was someone who was cursed laying in a bed. Sickly and… hungry.” The voice growls. Cassandra was now backing away from the wooden crate and toward a wall to sidle toward the hall she was just in. The portholes lining the wall the wooden crate was against allowed more moonlight to shine through and land against the crate itself. A groaning could be heard from inside the wooden crate.

Hungry!” The voice continues. “For something, anything to eat. It was then that a little boy, young and unreasonably blithe came through my door to visit me. A nephew, I was told by my dear sister. How prosperous for her, I thought. To procreate and have an heir to give things to. But as I said before, I was… hungry. Now, in more ways than one, with anger, and lust for meat. He came through my bedroom door and gave me a fright, causing my eyes to open erratically in my sickly state.

‘My dear uncle, what large eyes you have.’ He said to me.” Cassandra’s own eyes widened as she began to hurry her pace.

“‘My dear uncle, what great hearing you have!’ He said to me when I said I heard him singing a mile away as he walked to my house.” The voice continues as the ship sways back and forth against the rising tides under the spell of the moon. A rough wave crashes against the ship and causes Cassandra to falter to her knees.

“When I asked him closer and grabbed his arm so I could whisper in his ear, he tried to snatch his arm away from my grasp and said, ‘Uncle what are you doing?!’” The voice said in a higher-pitched voice, mousey and noticeably made to sound pathetic. The voice laughs callously to its own story.

“And do you know what I said to him?” The voice asked Cassandra.

“This can’t be real, this has to be some kind of prank or something.” She said.

“Not quite!” The voice says in a toying tone. “Instead I said, ‘I’m happy your mother sent me the runt of the litter,’ just like you are!” The voice says as moonlight engulfs the wooden crate. The light reflected from the moon lands on the scars and wounds that the box has. Blood stained the far corner of the wooden box and marks of sharp teeth or claws decorated the corner as well. 

The owner of the voice begins to grunt more and then laughs while taking breaths. “Guess who’s HUNGRY!” The wooden box begins to shake and rumble as something growing larger and larger begins to move around. The sound of scraping against wood is heard until a hairy paw reaches out of the crate through the iron bars and makes clawing motions toward Cassandra. Looking at the half-formed wolf paw first, Cassandra follows its arm toward the darkness of the crate and sees golden glowing eyes staring back at her through the bars. Primal and only getting further from humanity.

Cassandra stands up from the cold metallic floor and runs through the hallway she was stumbling through a mere twenty minutes ago. 

“Run! All of you, if anyone can hear me, run!” She screams down the halls. She breathes harder as she doesn’t stop to talk to any crew members that poke their heads out to see what is going on. 

A loud sound of what almost sounded like wooden walls being bursted through was heard across the fishing boat. Causing others to look into the hallway toward a running Cassandra, looking frantic and panicked. 

“Cass, what’s going on?” A gruff looking fisherman stops Cassandra as she’s running by grabbing her arms. While his face toward her is full of gentle strength, she had no time to tell him what she knew. 

“You need to run, Oddie. We ALL need to run-or- or get weapons, something but we can’t stay right here!” Cassandra tries to warn one of the few friends she had aboard the ship. Yet as soon as she’s finished, the lights flicker and shake in the hallway as a new thumping sound is heard coming from the way Cassandra was running from.

“I’m getting out of here. We can’t stay here or we are dead!” Cassandra tries to tell Oddie one more time. Grabbing his arm and tugging him toward the opposite direction of the almost galloping noise is. Then, a scream.

“AHHHHHHHHHH!” A fisherman yells as the monster shrouded in darkness claims its first victim. Grabbing him by his leg with razor sharp teeth and jerking it downward, the fisherman falls as the monster lets go of his leg only to make ample space for the Adam’s apple he wanted to take a gluttonous bite out of. A gargled scream as moonlight comes in from a porthole and shines against the freshly blood-stained fur on a large wolf. Blood dripping from its snarling mouth, its eyes are on Cassandra. There are at least twelve other bodies between her and it but she knows that its eyes are on her alone.

Cassandra releases her grip on Oddie’s arm and turns to run further down the hall. She doesn’t see what happens, yet the sounds made it much worse. Darkness behind her and screams of grown men echo after her. The sounds of ripping, tearing, gushing, munching, biting, a beast making its way through others to her was heard reverberating off the metal walls of the ship. 

“Cassandra!” Oddie was heard screaming meters behind her. Followed by a terrified screech that she cut off upon crossing the threshold of a doorway and pushing the heavy metal door shut. Twisting the wheel to fully seal the door, she backs away from it and feels her legs hit a metallic surface. 

She turns around and processes now that she’s in the wheelhouse of the ship. The central nerve of this fishing boat and unfortunately only having one other exit that leads toward a rough outside. With the rise and shining of the full moon, the waves have become ferocious in their attempts to throw anyone overboard. That wasn’t something worth worrying about right now however. Instead, Cassandra stopped her breathing and heard silence on the other side of the heavy door. 

Cassandra slowly gets down on her knees and silently crawls over to the door. Placing her hair behind her ear, she places it against the cold door. Nothing. Not a scream or shout for help. The sound of blood dripping and claws scraping have halted. Now there was nothing but the sound of Cassandra’s own heartbeat in her ears and the titanous tides trying to overtake the ship.

Confused, she turns her head away from the door and looks around the wheelhouse from where she’s sitting. A breath leaves her mouth as she lets the pressure she felt from within let out for just a moment. 

“Little pig, little pig,” a dark and deep voice growled from the other side of the door. “Let. Me. In. I can hear you breathe, and I smell your stink. Within my stomach you belong to be.” Cassandra rises away from the door in shock allowing her to see a possible out to her predicament above the threshold of the door. Her eyes glisten against the possible silver that gleams to her.

“You don’t have anywhere to go. Neither do I. Yet, I believe I have more delicious…food out here than you do in there. Why can’t we both go home, little pig? You don’t even know what I really look like, I could be your friend. Maybe your family? I could be your father, a brother, a cousin, or nephew. There’s no need for further bloodshed amongst us as long as you guide this ship to its destination.” The monster declares eloquently to Cassandra. 

A moment of silence.

“Little piggy?” The monster says.

A loud noise comes from the door as it slowly creaks open a mere inch. The wolf regards the spacing and pushes it with his head to have a wider range of sight. The room looked relatively empty. 

“Did I mistake the pig for a weasel? Has she escaped?” The wolf says aloud as he pokes his nose through the opening. 

“I can smell you.” He says and pushes forward further with his head. Moving the heavy door further open, he leans in with his head and spots something move out of the corner of his eye. Before he knew it, the heavy metal door was pressed against his neck and the threshold, keeping his head in place. He yelped loudly and tried to wiggle his way out of the space. Biting and snarling at the air, he felt trapped once again like how he was in the crate. 

A sharp and piercing instrument was felt next to his temple. Looking upward with wide eyes, he makes eye contact with Cassandra and froze. She was now holding a loaded harpoon gun. Struggling to keep the door closed and focus on a clear shot, she waited for the right moment for him to stop moving before speaking toward him.

“My, my, what big eyes you have.” Cassandra says and pulls the trigger of the harpoon gun. Watching the harpoon go through the eye of the wolf and pierce through to the other side of its skull. 

Cassandra felt some form of cruel satisfaction against the monster that almost took over the ship. She lets go of the empty harpoon gun and lets herself slide down the wall and onto the floor. Realizing now she has nobody. Nobody to talk to, grieve to, or learn from how to sail the boat. She brings her knees up to her chest and begins to cradle herself as she listens to the waves of the ocean. Her stomach felt queasy, as she just remembered how seasick she usually gets. Looking back toward the bleeding corpse of a werewolf, her stomach settles. 

“If I can handle a werewolf, I can handle some waves.” She says and tries to steady herself against the wheel of the ship. “And maybe next time, people will listen to me.”

November 18, 2024 23:55

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

0 comments

RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in Reedsy Studio. 100% free.