Agony and a Shiv

With shaky hands, Druknet remained standing in place, holding up his lantern.

“I-...” The words were stuck in his throat. He didn't know what to say. As things stood, he was a guilty man.

The darkness in front of him shifted, becoming deeper.

“Deckhand Christopher, what are you doing?” The draugen’s voice tore through the silence. It didn’t echo, but it seemed to be close and directed, almost like it came from inside of himself.

The set of glowing eyes in front of him remained still, watching him…

Suddenly, his chest began to tighten, as the sound of slow measured foot steps chimed through the darkness. The eyes grew larger as it stepped closer through the perimeter of the lantern's light.

Druknet stood still, as his breathing slowed. The flame in his lantern flickered, as the air around him seemed to grow colder with each step the figure took.

A tattered boot entered the light, followed by a second. Captain Russel's pale corpse-like face emerged from the darkness. Fog rose from his open mouth, revealing rotting yellow teeth.

Come back. The words poured from the draugen’s mouth, slipping into Druknet’s mind like a whisper.

“...” Druknet didn’t respond. He remained still, while his thoughts raced.

Maybe I should just go with him. The idea crossed momentarily like it was trying to coerce him to surrender.

He stared deeply into the draugen's glowing eyes. They didn't blink, instead remained locked on him.

“Christopher.” The draugen whispered, raising its hand slowly. Its long gray fingers extended toward him with its blackened nails hovering just inches from his face.

Druknet didn’t move at first or resist. He stood there on the verge of giving in…

“No…” The words slipped out of his mouth. He shook his head, as he took a step back.

The draugen stepped forward, matching him.

“St-stop!” Druknet stuttered.

He took another step back, which was immediately met with a step forward by the draugen.

“Stop following me!” Druknet cried out with frustration. “I already told you I didn’t do-” He stopped himself, as the truth was starting to set in.

“I-I already killed you once!” He shouted, his voice shaking with anger. His free hand clenched into a fist. “Go back to the bottom of the sea where you belong!”

He lunged forward, throwing a punch toward the draugen’s face… The moment his fist moved, the figure vanished like it had never been there.

Druknet staggered, confused and disorientated. A sharp crack echoed beneath his feet. He froze as it grew louder. The ground shifted, as the edge of the ridge gave way. The earth collapsed beneath him and he fell.

His body tumbled violently down the cliffside, jagged rocks tearing at him as he slid. Shards of ice scraped against him, slicing through his clothing. Pain erupted everywhere at once. Then… there was a loud crunch in his left leg, as it twisted unnaturally beneath him when he hit the ground.

Agony exploded through his leg. He bit down hard, sinking his teeth into his tongue, trying to keep himself from screaming. The lantern flew from his hand, followed by darkness swallowing everything.

Breathing through his clenched teeth, the pain was unbearable. Suddenly, white clouded his vision…

His pain suddenly subsided as he opened his eyes. He was sitting still and quietly back on the ship in the crew quarters.

Dozens of men laid asleep in the rows of bunks around him. The air was thick and heavy, as he looked around slowly, carefully watching and listening.

He stood up, moving between the rows of beds, stepping lightly to avoid creaks from the floorboards. His eyes scanned over each sleeping face, until he stopped in front of the scarred man, who was asleep and unaware as Druknet stood over him.

Druknet’s hand hovered near his waistband. An improvised shiv made from a piece of jagged metal rested there.

“No…” He whispered to himself, shaking his head lightly. His hand pulled away from it. “Not yet.”

He glanced around the dark room again to make sure no one was watching and no one was awake. After he confirmed he was clear, he crouched down and slid beneath the bed. Waiting patienting under there, time passed painstakingly slowly…

Eventually, his time neared, as a loud bell rang. The crewmembers stirred, getting up one by one, filing out of the room. As the group of men left, silence returned.

Druknet still remained under the bed, cautiously waiting a while longer. Once he was certain it was safe, he slid out carefully.

The scarred man hadn’t moved. He was still asleep like he often was to weasel his way out of morning work.

Standing over him, Druknet didn't hesitate this time. He pulled the makeshift shiv from his waistband and gripped it tightly.

As the man shifted slightly in his sleep, Druknet felt an unusual eagerness overcome him, if not excitement or even a little bit of joy…

Not hesitating a moment longer, Druknet drove the shiv downward straight into the man’s throat. A wet choking sound followed, as blood began to spill out immediately. The man’s hands twitched momentarily then fell still.

Druknet pulled out the blade. His breathing remained steady, almost too steady. He felt nothing, no panic and no regret. There was just silence…

The cold darkness suddenly surrounded him once again, as the pain returned to him all at once. He let out a gasp as agony surged back into his leg. Laying on the shore, he stared up at the void.

“Did I really kill that man?,,,” He murmured to himself, as the memory was fading back into his mind. “I did…”

His chest began to tighten again. Not from his realization though, but rather the set of white eyes staring down at him from the top of the ridge. They remained still, unmoving and unblinking, just observing him from a distance.

His attention abruptly shifted away from the draugen, as there were more lights in the distance that were growing closer. They flickered as they swayed through the dark, while Norwegian voices shouted out from behind them. It seemed that the villagers had found him…