Nobody

His chest tightened, as he leaned against the wall of the shed. “I-I couldn't have…” He stammered to himself.

A sharp pain shot through his head, as though his memories were about to split his skull in half.

It didn't make sense to him. Why would he kill Bjorge? He had no reason to.

“No…” His voice trembled. “This can’t be real.”

He began to slam the back of his head against the wall repeatedly. “Who am I!?... Who?… Who?… WHO!?” He cried out in torment.

Christopher. The name rang through his mind.

“Christopher…” He whispered.

The name felt meaningless, as if it wasn't real at all.

Suddenly more voices hit him. Paul… Thomas… Mark…

A dozen names flooded his thoughts, rapidly echoing one after another. Each one

felt just as hollow and meaningless as the last.

The pain in his head intensified, pulsing harder the more he tried to determine what was real…

Suddenly, something clicked, as a realization came to him.

“I'm not Christopher.” He murmured, looking down at his shaky hands. “I'm not Paul… Thomas… or Mark…”

He shook his head slowly, as he lifted it back up. “I’m not anyone.”

It began to rain again outside, tapping steadily against the shed’s metal roof. Thunder sounded faintly in the distance, followed by a flash of lightning through the narrow cracks between the boards of the shed.

His vision went white…

Suddenly, he was standing on a shoreline, wearing a sailor uniform. The air was calm and the sea was still. In front of him sat a pristine white steam ship with the words ‘SS Randy’ freshly painted on the side in red.

“This is familiar…” He whispered.

Something about it felt strangely nostalgic.

“So you're Paul, the new crew member.” A hoarse voice spoke.

Druknet turned around. Behind him was an old man with a long white beard and a captain’s hat.

For an instant, Druknet blinked… The man in front of him suddenly changed to a middle aged man with a black handlebar mustache.

“Report to your post, Thomas.” The man said flatly.

Druknet turned again… The ship had changed as well. It was now wooden with tall white sails. Carved into its stern was ‘The Mother of Mindy’.

The wind began to pick up while the sea became choppy. Clouds started to gather overhead.

A hand tapped Druknet’s shoulder.

“Ahoy there, Mark.” A tired voice muttered.

Druknet turned around once more. A robust man with ginger sideburns now stood before him.

The ship had changed again as well. It had become a rusty metal barge with the words ‘The Eddy’ written in faded lettering on its side.

The sky darkened and the wind started to howl. Waves began to churn violently. The calm had completely faded.

“So you're the new deckhand.” A cold and eerie, yet familiar voice spoke.

Druknet slowly turned then froze… Captain Russel stood before him… or rather what remained of him.

“You don’t remember them?…” The draugen whispered without its mouth moving.

Druknet remained silent, as he stared back into the draugen’s glowing eyes. Suddenly a flash of lightning lit up the horizon…

It became dark again, as Druknet found himself back in the shed. He was still leaned up against the wall as pain continued throbbing through his leg.

He shook his head confused. “What does it all mean?”

Memories were resurfacing, but he still struggled to make sense of them.

There was a slow scraping noise that came from the outside of the shed, as something ran its nails across the wooden boards.

Come back. Echoed from outside.

“You still haven't answered?” Druknet shouted. “Who am I!?”

He began to erratically hit himself in the head with his closed fist.

The scraping continued and the storm intensified. Another bolt of lightning flashed…

The room began to spin, as the air became hot and suffocating. A layer of steam clouded his vision. All he could make out was a metal floor beneath his feet.

His hand felt suddenly wet. He looked down at it… Blood dripped from his fingers. In his other hand, he held a hatchet.

“What the-?” He gasped.

Slowly, he lifted his head upward… There was a body wearing a sailor’s uniform collapsed against the wall. Its head hung to the side, limp and lifeless.

The room shifted…

He now stood inside a dark and cramped cargohold… Blood still remained on his hand, but now he gripped a metal pipe in his other hand.

Before him was an open crate, which he peered into… The smell of citrus and blood filled his nostrils. Inside was another body of a man, who lay with his back twisted unnaturally on top of a pile of lemons.

Druknet blinked…

The room became the inside of a metal shipping container. Blood streaked its wall, while Druknet stood with a rusty saw blade in his hand. Laying at his feet was another corpse.

“Excellent.” He said with an unusual sense of joy.

He didn’t feel repulsed in the least by the body. In fact, he felt strangely satisfied…

The room shifted once again to a familiar scene…

Back in the bunkroom, he loomed over the scarred man’s body with his shiv in hand and a pool of blood around his feet.

Druknet remained still and quiet for a few moments, until everything finally faded back to black…

The shed returned around him, as he sat, slumped against the wall, breathing steadily.

His mouth curled into a grin. Everything made sense to him now.

“I'm nobody...” He muttered.

Paul, Thomas, Mark, and dozens more… all just temporary aliases that we disposable to him.

He chuckled softly. “I got a bit too overconfident this time.”

“After all these years…” His head slightly tilted to the side, amused. “I gave myself one rule…”

He tapped his fingers impatiently against the wooden floor. “Never kill someone too important to the ship's operations.”

His grin widened, while his eyes darkened. “I just couldn’t help myself this time… That navigator was a real bastard.”

The room fell silent, as the storm raged outside.

“Now I remember who I am… or rather what I am…” He rested his head up against the wall. “I’m a serial killer.”