Emilia
Tuesday, May 10th, 2022 (49 days after the Shutdown)
Time seemed to slow as she stared at the gun pointed at her forehead, every heartbeat echoing loudly in her ears.
Her vision narrowed and she saw a finger playing with the trigger. She couldn’t think of anything. Every thought and emotion seemed to converge into a singular point of focus — the gun at her head.
“... Emilia?” a voice queried and the gun lowered by an inch.
Taking that as a sign, she looked up at the owner of the gun. The captain's cheeks were flushed red in the light of his lantern and the malice on his face withdrew for a second. While the captain struggled to find his words, the one who had threatened them approached, not bothering to mask his excitement.
"This is all of them," he grinned, snatching the lantern from the captain. Squinting as he shoved the light in their faces, his eyes widened as he looked around. "We've hit the motherload… Oliver… they have packaged food… you filching thieves! You fucking stole while the rest of us were starving? Get the fuck out here, now!"
Unholstering his gun, he grabbed Emilia who was at the front and pulled her outside.
Forcing her to her knees, she gasped as cold metal dug into the base of her skull. "Unless you want to see a bullet in her head, hurry the fuck up."
Katherine and Jefferson shuffled out, their legs struggling beneath them after days of sitting cooped up. Nervously looking behind them, like a corpse rising from the grave, Mr. Daniels hobbled out.
His face was gaunt and the tan he sported was replaced by milky white skin that hung loosely as if the years had piled on. Below his gunshot, his entire lower half was drenched in his lifeblood, yet his eyes hardened into flecks of steel; cold and resolute as they glared at the man who shot him.
"Charles… I… " the former captain started but Mr. Daniels cut him off with a shake of his head.
"Fuck… you," he huffed. "Y-You sided with them… I trusted you.”
"Yeah, how are you standing? You should be dead," said the other man whom Emilia recognized as a deckhand named Chris.
Ignoring the question, he took an unsteady step toward Oliver whose gun was hanging limp at his side. As Mr. Daniels took another step forward, Chris took the gun from Emilia’s head and leveled it at the old man.
“Don’t think I won’t,” he threatened, his attention divided between all of them. Glaring over at the former captain, he spat, “Don’t lower your gun, you dolt! You had to shoot him or you would've died so stop being a sissy little bitch and raise the damned thing!”
Taking the chance while the two started bickering, Mr. Daniels stared at her and meaningfully looked down the hall.
Is he… telling me to make a break for it? How? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Katherine and Jefferson frozen in the presence of the guns. If I move… if I move… The thought of a bullet hitting her back as she ran away played in mind over and over again.
Noticing her apprehension, Mr. Daniels looked at a door down the hall and then back to her, holding her gaze until his message finally dawned on her. Before she could protest, he threw himself at their assailants.
“RUN!” he yelled as he fought for control over their guns.
Grabbing Jefferson and Katherine as she ran down the hall, relief flooded her chest as she saw the stairs draw close when it was cut short by an agonizing scream. Chris had shoved his fingers into Mr. Daniels’ wound, digging deeper until with a gasp of pain the older man was forced to roll off of them. Throwing a kick to his face, Mr. Daniels’ nose exploded in a fountain of blood.
Stretching his body as he lazily approached Emilia, his teeth flashed white in the dark as he sneered at them. “Was that your grand plan? To sacrifice the old man so that you guys could escape? Honestly it’s a pity. You could’ve gone for the guns while we were down. Probably a smarter decision, don’t ya think?”
“Chris… wait, we can—”
“Shut the hell up, Katherine. Just… just stop talking. Sit down there — yeah, right there — Marcus should be back in another hour so let’s try waiting without fucking around until then.”
Unbeknownst to him, Mr. Daniels was crawling up behind him, every inch of movement contorting his face in anguish. Realizing Chris was staring at her she tried to remain inconspicuous but something about her must’ve tipped him off because Chris glanced behind him. When she heard him scoff in disbelief, Emilia’s heart dropped.
“The hell are ya trying to pull?” he mocked, kicking away Mr. Daniels outstretched fingers that were reaching for his ankle. “I-I don’t know if the blood loss is getting to your head but I have a gun. A gun. You fight, I’ll pop two into your chest. You run, I’ll pop two into your back. It doesn’t matter to me either way. This is for your own good. Just shut up and behave unless you want to be filled with bullets and tossed overboard as shark bait.”
“Doooor…” Mr. Daniels croaked.
“What?! What the hell is he— Oliver what the hell is he saying?” he heckled the captain, who was still lying outside the secret room. “Why the hell aren’t you help—”
“DOOooor…” Mr. Daniels croaked again, this time more insistent. Though the rest of his body had gone limp yet his eyes locked onto hers.
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Door? … Oh. She looked over to her left, realizing the former first officer’s intentions. There was still someone on this floor unaccounted for.
“What door?! Sir, I’m warning you. Shut. Up.”
Lightly nodding to her head to show she’d understood, Mr. Daniels finally relaxed.
“Thank you! God damn, that shouldn’t have taken that long—”
Creeeeak!
Before the surprise could register on Chris’s face, a golden hammer whizzed past him, catching him on the side of the head. Dropping the lantern he’d been clutching, the room was thrown into flickering darkness. Tentatively bringing his fingers to the side of his head, he stumbled back in horror at the sight of blood smeared on his hand.
“W-Wha? Who the…”
Mr. Daniels, who was spread on the floor, smiled weakly as a man walked across the threshold.
Emilia’s father was finally released.
The sclera of his brown eyes were pure red and his body, once loose and flabby, had tightened and grown taut with muscle and sinew. Pulling the hammer free from the wall it was melting through, he just stood there, wisps of smoke curling off his forearms as the veins in his neck started to press against their fleshy prison.
Frantic and disorientated, Emilia watched Chris deflate in seconds as he fumbled with his gun. Smelling his fear a malevolent grin spread across her father’s face and he started walking over to him, ignoring the former first officer helplessly bleeding out at his feet.
“Stay the fuck back, demon!” Chris warned, firing a shot towards his head but the hammer instinctively reacted, flying out of her father’s hands and blocking the trajectory.
Every shot passed through him like he was a mirage and every step forward sent sporadic twitches of his muscles throughout his body, struggling to hold back the bloodlust. The hammer reappeared in his hand just as Chris' gun spat out the last of its bullets.
“Fuck! Oliver do something!”
The captain just stared in horror in the face of death as it drew closer and closer.
The former first officer’s voice broke Emilia out of her shock. “N-now is your chance to escape.”
“But… you…” she muttered, unable to tear her eyes from the monster her father had become.
Chris scrambled backward in a desperate search for the captain’s gun amid the trembling shadows. Feet away from Chris, the hammer began to hum.
“Emilia, l-look at me,” Mr. Daniels pleaded, his voice growing fainter. “We all knew this was coming. Leave me… please. Katherine, take her."
A hand took hold of hers and she saw Katherine shaking her head. “Emilia.”
Taking one last look, she closed her eyes and ran, the room beginning to quiver as she turned her back on the only grandfather she ever knew. As she ran up the stairs to the first floor of the accommodations, the last thing she heard was the captain’s pleas for mercy.
***
Based on how no one had shown up when gunfire echoed through the lower halls, Emilia assumed they were all on the island foraging for food. Reality proved to be more damning than that. As they reached the main floor where the infirmary was, two guards barged in from the main deck, drawn by the gunfire. Their eyes locked on the sudden appearance of the three battered individuals before them, and a flicker of disbelief washed over their faces.
“Huh? You…” one of the guards stammered, reaching for his gun. “W-Where—”
“Upstairs,” Jefferson croaked, shuffling backward towards the stairs.
“Jeff, wait, we just want to talk for a second,” promised one of the guards.
His words spoke to peace but his gaze – hostile and dripping with malice – warned of violence. The screams hadn’t stopped from below, each plea and cry making their eyes shift between the stairs and the three of them.
“What the hell have you people done… no… you didn’t… you idiots released that monster didn’t you… holy shit you actually did,” the guard muttered, his eyes plastered on the stairwell leading to the lower floor.
The screams had stopped. Mr. Daniels…
Feeling an earnest squeeze on her shoulder, Katherine and Jefferson were already at the foot of the stairs, using this chance to slip away.
“Chris!” the guard yelled, looking down the stairs. “Chris, answer me if you’re alive! Mr. Oliver! Give us a s—”
A hammer ripped through the top half of his head before he could finish that sentence. Blood gushed from the headless corpse as it crumpled inwards and tumbled down the stairs, stopping at the base with a wet thud.
His associate who'd been standing behind him wiped his face in a trance, staring at the fleck of blood and brain that covered it. No… What had become of her father leisurely walked up to the headless corpse and looked up. Its mirth was plain to see as it smirked up at them.
“Aahhhh… another one…” it chuckled, dipping its finger into the dead guard’s blood and drawing a smiley face on the back of his shirt.
That broke the remaining guard out of his trance. Screaming bloody murder as he struggled to hold up his rifle, bullets started ricocheting off the lower walls as the gun went fully automatic.
Jefferson was halfway up to the second floor by the time Emilia and Katherine started to follow him, one eye on the stairs beneath them. The “Dungeon” — as the second floor was called — was gloomy as its name suggested. They hadn’t been up here since they were marooned on the island but the general layout had been imprinted in their minds. Tripping over boxes Marcus’ crew had pilfered, Emilia could hear Jefferson cursing under his breath as he ran into another closed door.
Click.
“Jefferson! Wait!” the guard screamed, sending a fresh round of bullets to fend off another assault from the monster. “Please!”
“People!” Jefferson hissed, finally reaching the cafeteria’s door. Natural light poured out of the door’s opening. “Move your legs faster!”
“JEFFERSON! HOLD THE DOOR!”
Despite being technologically superior, the guard was losing ground. His face was flushed in exhaustion and his movements grew sluggish and just like below, no shot found its target. Whatever the hammer didn’t deflect, the monster disappeared before.
Rushing into the cafeteria, Emilia looked back in time to see the guard’s magazine run empty. Chucking it at the creature, the guard’s breathing came in ragged gasps as he ran up the rest of the stairs; a cacophony of fear and exertion. With each frantic step fueled by adrenaline, his arm reached out to stop the door. And for a single moment when his fingers entered the door’s gap, relief washed over his face.
“T-Thanks—”
Something landed on him from above. Crushed beneath the weight of the monster, his final moments were stretched out as his head was pulled back.
Tears mingled with sweat as the guard pleaded one last time, “Emilia… t-the d-do… or—”
A sharp snap echoed through the abandoned ship and his body promptly was relieved of its head. Bile rose from the back of Emilia’s throat as the monster that wore her father’s face gave her one last smile before the door finally shut.