The Crew Quarters

Druknet's eyes went wide as the light from the lantern reflected off a metallic object sticking out of the dirt. Slowly and cautiously, he knelt down and picked it up. He let out a gasp.

It was a pocket watch… One that was completely identical to the one he had just thrown off the ridge. He stared at it in disbelief, as he ran his fingers over its surface. Hesitantly, he flipped open its cover and raised his lantern over it.

‘…am… …se…’ The same worn lettering was inside.

A faint ticking began. It gradually became faster and louder. The watch aggressively ticked in his hand, each click echoing off the darkness that surrounded him.

“No.” He whispered. “Get out of my sight.” He shouted suddenly, hurling the watch behind him into the darkness as far as he could.

The ticking stopped and silence returned. Druknet stood in place, breathing heavily, as he tried to steady himself.

“It's not real…” He muttered. “It's just in my head...”

Exhaling with frustration, he took a step forward then froze. His eyes lowered to the ground…

The watch… It sat in the exact spot he had just pulled it from, as if it had never left.

His jaw tightened. “No…” He whispered again, shaking his head. “That’s not possible…”

Refusing to look down again, he stepped over it this time, deliberately trying to avoid it.

After taking three steps forward, there was a metallic tap, as his foot struck something. He stopped. Slowly, he lowered his lantern. Instantly the light revealed the watch, once again laying in front of him.

“I said leave me alone!” He roared, violently kicking the ground.

The watch skidded across the dirt, disappearing briefly into the shadows.

Immediately though, as he shifted his attention back to the ground… it was already back, waiting for him.

His hands trembled not with fear, but with anger.

“Fine.” He huffed under his breath. “You want to play games!?”

He raised his boot and slammed it down repeatedly onto the watch. The metal bent under his weight with a faint crunch. Still he didn’t stop. He stomped harder, breathing heavily, as his entire body shook with rage.

“Don’t come back!” He shouted.

Finally with one last kick, he sent the watch flying into the darkness once more.

He let out a tired cough as his legs gave out and he fell to his knees.

“What do you want from me?” He screamed into the void.

Suddenly his vision flashed…

He blinked and in his hand was holding a rag. The lantern was gone and he was now kneeling on a damp wooden floor. The smell of salt and iron hit his nose.

His arms moved on their own, frantically scrubbing the wooden floor, harder and faster.

“What is this?” He wondered.

The ship rocked violently. The light above him flickered, casting shadows across the cramped quarters lined with bunk beds that were bolted down to the floor.

He wanted to jump back, but his body wouldn't let him. Persistently, his hands continued scrubbing the floor with the rag.

His rag dragged through a thick and dark liquid... The light flickered again, revealing… blood pooled all around him, soaking into the boards.

“No!” He tried to pull his hands away but couldn’t. They continued scrubbing frantically, until his vision flashed again…

Darkness surrounded him, as the cold snapped back at him. He was back kneeling in the dirt on the ridge.

“I haven't seen the navigator since last night.” Captain Russel’s words from one of Druknet's prior visions echoed through his mind.

“I don't know who that is!?” Druknet yelled wildly into the air.

A sharp chill hit him. Immediately, he blinked and the world shifted again…

He was laying flat, face down against the floor. Something soft pressed down from above him. His breath slowed instantly, as he realized that he was under a bed.

Heavy footsteps pounded against the floor.

“The captain wants all hands on decks.” A man's voice called out.

Another set of boots came stomping through the room.

“Is anyone down here?” Another voice followed.

Druknet remained still. His chest began to burn from holding his breath.

A set of feet walked past him. They stopped and turned, then stood still for a moment.

Druknet’s heart felt like it was about to pound out of his chest.

“Doesn't look like anyone's here.” One of them finally said.

“Then we should probably head up ourselves.” The other responded.

The boots began to move again toward the entrance of the room until they were gone.

Druknet exhaled slowly. His body began to move, but on its own. Sliding out from beneath the bed, he turned to another bed beside him. His hands reached underneath it and began feeling around. They grabbed onto something heavy that was wrapped in fabric.

“What the-?” His muscles strained as he pulled.

The object dragged across the floor, out from under the bed. Its weight resisted every inch of the way.

In front of him, now sat a roughly human-sized bundle wrapped tightly in a blanket. It was limp and motionless.

He froze. “Is that…?”

A wave of dread washed over him. He shook his head not wanting to know and not wanting to look. However, despite this, his body began to move without him once again.

He lifted the roll, slinging it over his shoulder. The weight nearly buckled him. It was awkwardly shaped and much heavier than expected.

Moving through the narrow corridors, each step was careful and calculated. Every few seconds he stopped and listened with caution before continuing.

As he reached the door to the top deck, he cracked it open and peered out… Empty, not a person in sight.

This was his chance. He stepped out, moving quickly to the railing. Shifting the body, he leaned forward with it. The rope, holding the blanket shut, loosened. It fell open, revealing a familiar face beneath… It was the scarred man from one of Druknet’s prior visions. The one that kicked him.

For a moment, Druknet hesitated. His grip tightened and his arms trembled. Then he let go and the body fell, striking the water with a subtle splash, immediately swallowed by the waves.

Druknet stood coldly and silently, not reacting. Then his body turned and he began walking toward the bow of the ship where the rest of the crew was.

White flashed over his eyes again…

The darkness had returned. He stood up, wide-eyed with his lantern in hand.

“D-did I kill that man?” He stuttered.

Deep down he already knew the answer. His stomach twisted violently, as his hand shook uncontrollably.

As he stood in disbelief, two white lights appeared in the darkness, just outside the lantern’s reach.

Druknet stood silently, staring back at it…