Candlelight

Lit only by the cold candlelight on the walls, the room seemed to be empty. Of people, anyway. There wasn’t much to do but sit on the bench only a few feet from the cells that lay rotting, the metal bars patiently rusting. That was the only real way to tell that time even passed here – the candles were not replaced often enough to be of any use, and the light of day never reached this part of the ship. It could be the middle of the day right now, and yet it was still almost pitch black in the cells.

Only one was occupied at the moment. There wasn’t much evidence that that was true, except for the occasional shift of a blanket, or sometimes the scraping of nails on the wooden floor. Drew found it unnerving. There would be silence, and a sort of peace, then suddenly the sound of something from the end of a cell. Something that almost sounded like a rat, but it wasn’t.

Drew watched as another sailor passed by, giving him a look, but saying nothing. That’s alright, he was new on the ship, he could handle it. They’ll warm up to you eventually. You have to wait. And if they don’t, that’s ok because it's better than being where we were before.

“Do you trust anyone on this ship?” a voice whispered from the darkness. Drew frowned at the confidence in the voice. Despite the rasp and the low volume, it was assertive, as though the voice were not stuck in a cell with only himself and the dim glow of a candle beyond his reach.

Ignoring the question, Drew took to watching the wall next to him. It was lit just enough that every bug could be seen as it flew past, or settled it’s self down on the wall, where it appeared a dull black shadow. He was not so much as halfway through the shift yet.

“You know, it doesn’t count if you're already planning your defeat,” the voice called again. Drew turned his head to the sound. It was almost as though he was playing a game, although Drew could not manage to work out the objective. Drew clenched his teeth and turned his head back to the wall, to stare at the flickering lights as they danced across the wood.

Maybe Drew could use this time to memorise the pattern on the particular board. It was quite an interesting one, and obviously a better use of his time than listening to the prisoner. It was detailed, as though a sculptor had specifically carved out dents and grooves, in such a precise manner that it almost seemed to be something real. Drew shook his head a little at the thought of that – wood being made to look like wood. What a waste of time.

There was a shuffle, and the sound of a blanket falling to the floor. Drew immediately tensed up, head spinning towards the cell. His hand shot out to grab the candle off the wall but hesitated. He pulled his hand back after waiting a moment for something to happen.

Breathe in and out. You two are the only two people in this place.

Drew took a deep breath and fiddled with the loose threads on his shirt. The question was still bugging him; he had no motive, there was no battle except for the one he was currently having with the prisoner, who seemed determined to annoy him to death and nothing else. What was there that was supposed to count towards anything?

“What do you mean?”

There was low laughter that turned into a fit of coughs. The person seemed to be hacking up his lungs. Drew wanted to move a little further away but found that he couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure.

The coughing died down, and there was a moment where the only sound was harsh breathing, as though the person sitting in that cell had just come up from the very bottom of the ocean, to take his first breath again. Drew was almost thankful when the sound of laughter from up on deck echoed through.

There was a final cough before the voice came back.

“You seem like someone who is here because they have a plan but doesn’t really believe it will work.”

Drew frowned. “If I didn’t believe it would work, why would I do it then?”

“Maybe you’ve got no other plans to turn to.”

This was a trick. he just wanted to escape, and so he was trying to guilt-trip Drew into freeing him. Yes. That had to be it. Turn around and ignore him.

“Is it weird? I don’t think you can see me with that light. Counterproductive, since I can see you.”

Drew stared back at the plank of wood. Just as good as any to stare at. The same colour of wood as his mother’s brush had been, and the same colour as the rest of the wood that this stupid ship was made out of, and the only colour Drew had seen over the last five days. Some of the sailor’s shirts were so dirty they almost looked to be that colour. The pages of the journal she kept were almost that colour, stained from the time she had spilt tea on them. And dropped it in the dirt. But it was special, even with all that.

“But that doesn’t matter. It’s not like those lying scoundrels up on deck give two shits about what happened down here.”

Ignore him. Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him.

“They’ll throw you in here just as quickly as they did me, you know. But you’ve probably got a plan for that, haven’t you?”

Drew grabbed the candlestick, eyes darting between it and the patterns it made on the walls. His hands shook. A drop of wax fell. Drew hissed but didn’t touch where it now lay on his hand. Drew took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

“Probably gonna need it.”

Drew stood up and marched over to the cell, candle in hand and fury finally raging in his chest. He was wrong. “What do you want? Why do you – “

Drew stopped. He held the candle as close to the bars as possible, ensuring light slip into every corner of the room. Heart suddenly racing, he went to the next cell across. And then the next. And then the next, and the next, until there were no more cells left.

There was no one there.