Sebastian POV

  Outside the captains’ quarters, the crew lingers, Miss Vluchtig tosses her knife up and down, up and down. Maris and Imbellis loiter nervously by the closed door. Some crewmembers are seated on the aft deck steps, and others are pacing back and forth.

  Maril speaks, “We have the rowboats, some of us could hop on and flee.”

  Miss Vluchtig responds, “Ignoring the fact we’d be fighting each other for a spot, we’re in the middle of the ocean. One storm and you’re dead and drowned.”

  Maril says, “Not once we pass the archipelago, some of us could live, some of us could leave.”

  Sebastian responds, “Wait really? I could take a rowboat and try to row to the Archipelago?”

  The crew of eight fix Sebastian with a cold stare. Some look at each other with a knowing glance.

  The helmsman speaks, “The captain would stop you before the rowboat is ready to be lowered into the water, you need two people for that. It’s suspended by davits so it can be done in a couple minutes.”

  Miss Vluchtig sighs, “even if you get on the rowboat with rations, and you row away. The ship’s got chase, and there’s nothin’ stopping the captain throw some sea fire on your asses as you row away. I’ve seen what it can do, it’s got some range.”

  The door slams open and the captain strides out, sullen. He has a loaded crossbow in one hand and waves the ballots in the other.

  The captain’s voice is soft, gentle even, “I begin... with a confession. With a folded corner here, an irregular edge there, I made each of these ballots unique. Unbeknownst to anyone but myself.”

  The crew gathered in a tight semicircle around the captain, their boots scuffing against the damp wooden deck. Their postures stiffened. Brows furrowed. A few exchanged uneasy glances. One sailor clenched his jaw, another swallowed hard. The salt-stained wind carried a tense silence between the captains words, heavier with each passing moment. Imbellis eyes dart around, he’s biting his nails.. Sebastian looks to the floor, afraid to make eye contact.

  The captain continues, “Having paid strict attention as I handed them out, it’s now my duty to reveal that I have succeeded in ferreting out the cowards in our midst.”

  Maril says, “W-what'd he say?”

  Imbellis answers, “he said there are-”

  “-Craven cowards who’d gladly betray a stranger, so long as it meant saving their own hide,” the captain said.

  The crew eye each other up and down. Sebastian's grip on his sword tightened.

  The helmsman says, “Now, hang on a minute, can we see-”

  The captain interrupts, “Two cowards, who voted to pass our terrible burden to the Archipelago’s defenceless men, women and children.”

  The crew quiets down, and some look away in guilt. Sebastian stares at the captain, “Mr Gareda, move to your left. Please.”

  The helmsman replies, “Sir, I-”

  “A step to your left, please, if you don’t mind, thank you.”

  Imbellis snorts, “Do what he says!”

  The captain looks Imbellis in the eyes with fury. Imbellis shrinks like a wiped dog.

  The helmsman — Mr Gareda — obeys, stepping to his left. Blocking Miss Vluchtig’s view. The captain lets go of the ballots in his hands and aims the light crossbow at the helmsman – sending a single, blood-splattering bolt through the helmsman head.

  As his body drops to the ground Miss Vluchtig screams. But not from fear. The bolt is lodged into her eye, and she’s clawing at it in pain.

  Everyone is frozen in horror. The captain frowns in disbelief, “oh goodness, I had hoped it would’ve been painless, Sebastian. . . be a doll and slash her throat.”

  Miss Vluchtig’s single eye widens in fear. Blood pooling in the white of it. She breathes in deep and pull out the bolt. With the eye pierced on it, “If you get near me centurion I will cut off your balls and put them where your eyes used to be.”

  Sebastian draws his sword, the bronze glitters in the sparkling sun.

  He rushes forward and thrusts the front of his blade past her front leg. Severing an artery.

  Miss Vluchtig is slow and clumsy. She swings the bolt in front of her helplessly, her pierced eye slides down the wood onto her fingers, “that did nothing! I will you. You fuckin’ whoreson bastard-born land rat. I. . . will. . . I”

  She looks down at her thigh. Blood gushes out in torrents. Her face becomes white as a sheet, and she passes out a few seconds later. Never to awake again.

  The captain analyses the crew with his cold eyes.

  When he realises they won’t do anything stupid he tosses the crossbow overboard and stares the crew down, his chin jutting, “Nearly as unpleasant as it was necessary. United as we are at last in spirit, goal, and purpose.”

  The men are lost in stupefaction. Sebastian lets out a sigh of relief. The captain motions at the twitching corpses “Let's... lend a hand now, eh?”

  Miss Vluchtig and the helmsman’s bodies are tossed into the hold. Miss Vluchtig her pipe is thrown in after for good measure.

  The captain observes intently as, below, the Astakos creeps into the light, eyes swirling. It begins to consume.

  “That's it. Every last bite.”

  Hours pass, and the sky darkens. The ship has had a lot of luck. The wind in their backs has propelled their expected arrival. The captain adjusts the course of the ship's steer by a few degrees and throws down the handle to lock it in. He keeps Sebastian around everywhere he goes as a sort of bodyguard.

  He looks at the centurion, “So, I’m quite bored now. Yes, we have a monster in the hull,” He laughs, “but you and I haven’t had the pleasure to talk true. Where do you hail from?”

  Sebastian narrowed his eyes, “I’m from a small village near the second poleis Romera. My father is — was — a farmer. I joined the bronze shield to support my family,”

  Sebastian looks up at the stars, “What about you captain? I don’t even know your name, but your accent and mannerisms give me the idea you were upper class.”

  “Ha! I have such a silly name. It is embarrassing; I’ll reveal a different secret. I’ve seen you look at my hands every now and then. I’ve seen you look as I scratch them. Do you want to know why?”

  Sebastian nods.

  The captain lifts his gloves, showing worn, scarred fingers. The nails are gone and there’s this arching pattern that criss-crosses his fingers and hands. He can see static electricity forming on the captains’ fingertips. Sebastian gets the urge to puke again, “w-what happened to you?”

  “I was part of the bronze shield decades ago. Retired fifteen years ago. Your scroll caught my attention.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, sir,” Sebastian said, “What happened?”

  The captain's eyes glaze over, Sebastian spots a hint of red? Bronze? In his blue eyes.

  The captain answers, “If we were ants, and you and I were being burned by some toddler with a piece of glass, do you think they could tell the difference between you and me?”

  Sebastian looks at the captain flabbergasted, “what?”

  The captain smiled and stretched his old back, “Time for some calculus, the stars are out. I can measure where exactly we are. Stay at the helm. Make sure no one touches the steer.” Sebastian now has more questions than answers. He wonders if the captain is crazy.

  Sebastian gently brushes his hand against the sealed scroll that bungles to his waist. He caresses the bronze wax seal of general Valerius.

  A few hours later the captain is in the high crow’s nest, looking through a telescope in the direction they're headed. A faint line of distant lights twinkle on the horizon.

  A few crewmember adjust the sail and hammer the yardarm. Which got damaged when the Atakos climbed aboard.

  Here and there, while keeping to the fevered work of sailing, they surreptitiously glance skyward as... above, a crewmember climbs the rigging, a knife between his teeth.

  This knife belonged to Miss Vluchtig. The crewmember is slowly approaching to the crow’s nest.

  The captain pockets the spyglass and takes up a sextant, which he holds up against the burgeoning star scape.

  Below him the crewmember nears the nest, he bites down on the knife between his teeth.

  As the crewmember rises... he comes face-to-face with the captain who promptly slaps the knife out of the crewmember’s mouth, the captain then sets their foot on the crewmember’s fingers, “Wait, sir... please...”

  Imbellis, peering up, yelps and leaps asides, barely missed by the falling knife that embeds itself with a thud onto the deck.

  The crewmember whines when the captain puts more weight on his foot, “Weren’t my idea. They... they made me try.”

  The crewmember reaches behind his ear and holds up, by way of explanation... a three-centimetre straw.

  The captain looks down on the crewmember, “Mr Titulus, I am disappointed-“

  “HUNGRY”

  Both of them look down in reaction to the deep bellowing that can be heard from the hull, everyone’s attention is drawn to the broken metal hatch.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Miss Frigidus's rotting corpse pops up from the hold like a gangrenous Jack-in-the-box, and “looks” around, empty eye sockets oozing puss. The puppet bellows out, “Captain! Captainnn. Captain!!”

  Moments later the captain, passing lashed barrels, notices A skeleton, picked clean of flesh, laying on the spot Miss Vluchtig's corpse landed. In the exact same position. Before the captain can fully consider this; his attention is drawn to the Astakos’s arrival.

  The creature, now moving to be fully seen in dusk light through the hatch above, is larger and more bloated, sluggishly lumbering. The captain peers up, dwarfed by the monster.

  “You... rang?”

  The puppet leans forward to the captain, crooked jaw opening and closing, “Archipelago, Archipelago”

  The captain switches between addressing the puppet and the stalk-eyes of the astakos, “Yes... yes. Almost there. Patience, however, is the word of the day. Trust me, I've been nothing but...”

  He falters, aghast. He's looking down as chittering things move in the shadow beneath the Astakos. It’s hard to make out at first, until a relatively small Astakos hatchling scutters into the pale light. The captain's eyes twitch.

  At least a dozen more hatchlings crawl into view, under and flanking "mother," their tiny mouths open and closing.

  The captain steps back, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. The babies, however, advance no further; they all peer out at him from the edge of darkness.

  The puppet exclaims, “Hungry. Hungry.”

  The captain speaks through the sick rising in his mouth, “Of... of course you are, haha. So many mouths to feed!”

  The puppet begins to withdraw as the wretched crustacean turns to lumber back toward the dark of her makeshift "cave." Her offspring follow in unison, into the shadows. As the monster's scootches into her dark hiding place, “Must eat. Season.”

  The puppet, ‘looks’ back, also slowly recedes, “We eat. Soon.”

  Once the captain is above deck, the six remaining crewmembers are gathered at the bow. Some lean at the rail, Mr Titulus points to where they're bound. The archipelago is so close, visible through the thinly veiled mist, “There lies the cluster of islands. Closer by the minute.”

  The captain looks at the disgruntled crew, “Unless our stowaway's got some sort of sixth sense, we'll skirt right past. As planned.”

  A crewmember speaks up, his voice quivering, “Except, in a few hours, we could jump ship and practically swim to the shallows.”

  Imbellis responds, “We wouldn't though, right? W- we'd... we'd use the boats...?”

  another crewmember slaps Imbellis, “Shut up.”

  Mr Titus says, “What's to stop us? The shoreline is well within reach.”

  The captain’s voice rasps, “Because you risk placing the shore within reach of the creature as well.” He leans against a pole, his hand resting on his cheek, “Look, I am willing to see the failed attempt on my life as an expression of-”

  he puts his hand up and makes air quotes, “low morale,” he puts his hand on his hip, “But this nightmare is very nearly at an end, I swear to you.”

  Sebastian says, “And tomorrow, sir? If your friend below starts getting peckish again?”

  The captain looks at the crew, ignoring Sebastian, “Just... maintain the course. Wake me at the toll of the hour,” he then turns to Sebastian, “Centurion, walk with me.”

  The captain crosses the stairs down to the main deck. The crew watches him go, hatred boils in their eyes.

  Several share a look.

  The captain and Sebastian enter the Captain’s quarters, he slams the door shut and then turns to Sebastian, “Centurion. Hide in the closet with your sword. Be very quiet. Come out when you hear me whistle.”

  “Sir? I do not follow.”

  “You’re a soldier, your job isn’t to ask questions. Listen and do as I say.”

  Later that night, the ship nears the archipelago. It is quiet. Sebastian listens from the closet. He can’t see anything from here, but if he turns and slightly opens the door, he can see the captain lying down in his bed. Sleeping.

  Sebastian is confused.

  He hears a click, the outer doors of the captains’ quarters open, he can hear the soft footsteps of several people. Their silhouettes move as quietly as they can. One holds a club, two hold knives. And three hold harpoons.

  They surround the captain’s bed. They raise their weapons and nod to one another.

  They slam down all at once. And keep cutting, slashing, and hitting the bed, pillow feathers go flying everywhere. Sebastian is in shock.

  Why didn’t he intervene.

  Sebastian hears a whistle. The captain moves in from a dark corner. Sebastian jumps out of the closet.

  The captain throws a dagger into the chest of Mr Titulus.

  The other five crewmembers jump into action. Four of them charge forward, their eyes filled with malice.

  Sebastian wards off two attacks. The harpoons lock into his swords cross guard as he twists it. Ripping the harpoons out of their hands.

  The captain grabs a harpoon that fell to the ground.

  Imbellis was slow to react. He flanks Sebastians left. Imbellis is unsure of what to do. His little dagger is harmless in his hands.

  Sebastian leans forward and arches his bronze sword into a heavy slash, cutting to the bone on both thighs.

  Imbellis collapses in on his legs and slumps forward, screaming in pain, “I can’t move my legs!”

  The other four crewmembers circle Sebastian. The last remaining harpoon wielder — who is Maril — lifts her weapon above her shoulder and throws it at the captain.

  It hisses through the air. The captain ducks, leans forward and lunges with two steps. Thrusting the harpoon into Maril’s shoulder.

  Sebastian slices the throats of the two disarmed crewmembers.

  Only two crewmembers remain. One has a dagger, the other a piece of broken wood functioning as a club.

  They both surrender, throwing their arms up in the air. The captain grins, promptly thrusting the harpoon into the right ones neck. He gurgles a bit, blood spluttering from his mouth as he collapses.

  The other panics, “What the fuck! What the fuck! Why! WHY.”

  He turns around to try and escape. Sebastian stabs him through the heart from the back.

  The captain grins, “Good work centurion, help me with their bodies.”

  Sebastian shakes his head, “two of them are alive. Imbellis is still alive. Maril. We could safe them.”

  The captain spins his head around in anger. He steps on Maril’s shoulder to make her cry out in pain before thrusting the spear through her pretty face.

  He then walks over to Imbellis, who’s a stuttering mess.

  “P-please. I’m only eleven. Please I’ll be good! I was just afraid- I was-”

  The captain drives the blunt end of the harpoon through Imbellis his skull. It cracks, and the sound of brain being mushed rings through Sebastians head.

  The captain muttered, “he didn’t have a life anyways. He’d be a cripple. You should’ve killed him with mercy. Why did you go for the legs?”

  Sebastians face contorts in anger, he takes a step forward but immediately stops as he feels the cold steel of the harpoon against his throat. Blood is smeared onto his neck.

  “You have a duty to fulfil. Don’t be such an idiot. Close your heart. Breathe in. . . breathe out.”

  “sir, you killed a child!”

  “I said, breathe in. Breathe out.”

  Sebastian stares into the captains eyes. They glimmer crimson, “As you command.”

  Sebastian breathes in, and Sebastian breathes out.

  The captain nods, “you have to deliver the wagon of bodies, focus on that. You can report this later. Right now we need to work together. Help me with the bodies, and help me ready the rowboat.”

  A moment later the hatchlings are creeping into the square of moonlight from the open hatch at the centre of which lie the gory, crumpled corpses of Mr titulus, Maril, and one other crewmembers. Another corpse crumple splats beside them, scattering babies.

  Sebastian is struggling to lift Imbellis’s inert body over the edge as the captain steps up to look down in.

  The captain sees the hatchlings, emboldened by their number, eagerly swarm the corpse pile. They’re only momentarily put off by the landing of Imbellis.

  The captain sees he colossal, slow-moving Astakos mother drift into the light. It’s larger now with more of its fleshy innards bursting from the shell’s seams. The monster shoves Mr titulus' inert body from the pile, then uses her claws to pound the corpse. Pulverizing the cadaver into a more readily-consumable pulp. Eager babies gather around.

  he mother and its offspring feast together. Sebastian wipes his brow, gaping down in horrified amazement upon the brood.

  The captain takes a step back.

  He says, “It’s only fair you know. I lied before. I didn’t mark the ballots. Didn’t need to,”

  The captain rips the scroll from Sebastian's person and then gives him a gentle shove, “Every last one of you wrote an X.”

  Sebastian tumbles forward, his eyes in disbelief. He reaches forward, twisting his body in a desperate hope to catch the edge, or to drag the captain down with him.

  It’s a hopeless final act.

  He lands on one leg, it snaps in half. Sebastian screams out, the hatchlings quickly surround him, eager to silence him.

  Minutes later the captain is at the helm, with lights of the archipelago a mere mile or so off.

  He turns larboardly, toward the shore, and then ties the wheel off. He then descends the quarter-deck, towards the double canted doors.

  He lights a candle and keeps his ceramic jug close at hand.

  Once inside the hull he peers out, there’s only bloodstains, bones, and sand now.

  “Come now. Show yourself.” A few children are near, observing, mouths open and closing.

  “We’re here.”

  With monstrous, clunking steps behind it, the mouldering puppet emerges. It gurgles out, using the decomposing body of Miss Frigidus, “Archipelago. Yes”

  The bigger-than-ever creature lurches into view, somewhat unsteadily. A few babies accompany her.

  The captain says, “Yes, and no. This is all I have to fight you with,” he holds the candle close to the opening of the ceramic jug, “But it'll have to do, to make certain you never reach the shore.”

  The puppet quakes, emphatic, its rotting left arm falling off, “Ssshell protects.”

  “Yes, even sea fire won’t harm you, I am well aware. You are, however, on board a jebel whaling vessel. And there's not much good eating on a whale. The meat is greasy... the hide is too tough for any garment. Hadn't you noticed?”

  The captain’s eyes flare with grim determination, “We harvest oil,”

  The captain lights the sea fire, and throws it down on the floor, all the oil is quickly set ablaze.

  The wheeling creature shrieks, discarding its puppet. Nearby hatchlings screech, hit by spattering flames. The captain dashes back towards the stairs. Hatchlings leap out from the mouths of empty oil barrels. The astakos chases him, with babies jumping onto her back.

  The captain leaps into the narrow passageway, like a mouse dashing into its mousehole, the crustacean crashes against the entry -- splintering the wooden framing.

  The captain scrambles up the stairs, glancing back as one behemoth pincer is shoved in after him, snapping impotently. The astakos gives up, backpedalling to the hatch.

  Flames spread fast.

  As she springs up, she finds the hatch is too small. She is too big to fit back through.

  Above on the main deck, an explosion reverberates as the captain unties the rowboat. The boat splashes down to the water.

  In the hold, flames rise. More screaming, clinging babies fight each other as the struggling mother is simply too big to fit the square hole.

  More barrels of oil explode.

  The captain climbs atop the rail to follow the boat. He dives in. He climbs aboard the rowboat, drenched in seawater.

  He watches on as his dear ship burns.

  He hears the crustacean scream in anger. It’s children burning.

  To the captain’s back are the lights of the archipelago. He inspects the scroll of the centurion for any water damage, but the leather holster kept it dry.

  He whistles a happy tune while he calmly rows to shore.