"The Cabin boy has been acting strange lately.”

Jamie froze like stone where he stood at the top of the steps which led down into the hold from the orlop deck of The Persephone. His eyes grew wide as he realized that it was Santiago, and that the Boatswain was currently referring to him!

“Do you think that he knows?” Replied Helgi in her own heavy accent. “How could he have found out?”

The two hissed back and forth to each other in lowered tones, doing their best to not be heard. It would be impossible for anyone to listen in to their current conversation unnoticed… unless said person was relatively small in stature, and was crouched at the top of the steps beside them and was leaning in close just like how Jamie was doing now. The Cabin boy himself felt awash in a feeling of icy cold shock, as he realized that those two dream-like visions that he had experienced may not have been wholly separate events, but the work of some larger plot!

“Somebody must have told him! It’s the only way.” Santiago suggested grimly.

“But who?” Helgi demanded, as if Santiago would know any more than she did. “The boy will not even look me in my eyes anymore! And he’s been asking… things.” Helgi sounded conflicted, as if she did not want to completely reveal to her compatriot what it was she and Jamie had spoken about. Jamie felt a pang of guilt in his chest, for even now as she was caught up in whatever devious affair that she was currently she evidently still desired some amount of protection for him.

“What did he say?” Demanded Santiago, annoyed by her hesitation. There was a long beat of silence, and then the Boatswain sighed with exasperation.

“...he ask where I go the last time we make port.” Helgi said, most begrudgingly, and cloaked within a sigh of her own.

“But that was a fortnight ago!” Santiago exclaimed, after a moment wherein Jamie imagined he must have emoted in surprise like he was want to do during such conversations. “Is that when you..?”

“Drop off ‘package’ to that Wharfmaster, yes.”

“Then somebody has definitely been taking out the dirty rags!”

Jamie let slip a little gasp at that, and he clutched tightly upon the necklace, if such a thing could be called as such, which now hung around his neck beneath his blouse.

Two weeks? He thought to himself with a start.

Some part of the young lad had hoped, prayed, that these terrible things that he had seen had been isolated and long-since passed, but from these hushed whispers he was certain that whatever nefarious goings-on his dear friends were involved in, they are still now very much afoot!

That is when he realized the conversation had come to a sudden halt. For a moment he wondered what could have happened, only to realize to his horror that they must have heard him, and that they were now staring up to the top of the stairs, just out of view to them, where he was currently crouched!

At first Jamie thought to scurry away out of sight before they could approach, but the barest shift of his weight upon the top plank of the wooden stairs produced a noticeable creaking, and would confirm to the two of their suspicion that somebody had been listening in on their confidential conversation. And with in inclination as to how many co-conspirators they had upon the vessel, for they had referenced more than just the two of themselves alone, to discover him there now might be to damn him to a gruesome end some night in the coming days!

So he waited, paralyzed, breath restrained within his painfully burning lungs so as not to risk a single more utterance that might be detected. Meanwhile, slow creeping footfalls steadily approached the stairway from below, as one of the two was now creeping ever nearer to peer up towards the deck!

Clomp… Clomp…

But just as he began to see the pale skinned and blonde haired profile of Helgi peer around the bend, a voice called out from deeper inside the deck somewhere!

“Helgi!” Came the voice of their Captain. “Come help me with this, quickly!”

Jamie watched Helgi startle and turn away from him, and he took this gracious opportunity to disappear from view as quickly and quietly as he could, just as Santiago came bounding around the corner to glare up at where he had just been hidden, with a look of nervous anger etched into his countenance!

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Jamie did his best, for the next few days, to act the same towards his crewmates that he had three days prior, before he had ever delved within those gods-forsaken dreams. It was hard for him, less so for Helgi whom he had only witnessed take a minor role in some mysterious and grisly circumstance, but for Santiago he found it difficult to even maintain a look into his eyes for long. The image of this man whom he had once thought of as harmless and jovial, a joy to be around, painting a stone wall with the contents of a young woman’s neck, floated in his mind like a sunspot would float upon your retina after staring up at the glare.

However, now it was they who acted more strange than he had been as of late. For he would put on all of his strength and send them a grin or a nod of the head as they passed each other in their duties, but in reply he would receive only hard, prodding looks, as if they meant to press out a confession of guilt from him with every interaction, no matter how small.

Jamie did not touch that shrunken head for the next several days. He wanted nothing to do with it, and whatever dark portents it might provide. He had already shaken his standing with two of the crewmates upon this vessel, a crew that was all of the family that he had ever known, and he would not bring any more instability into his life. His curiosity, he told himself, was quite sated, and he had no more intention of letting him get himself into some kind of mischief that he could not get out of.

On the third such night since his ghostly visit into Santiago’s past, Jamie came trotting down the steeper steps from the deck and into the crew’s quarters, where most of the men who had worked throughout the day were now snoring loudly in their hammocks. His young body ached from his chores, and he stretched heartily as he stood before his own cot, just before a shrill voice accosted him from behind.

“Weird.” It said, causing the young lad to startle and turn on his heel at once!

“Why’re you actin’ so weird?” Cheshie demanded, turning over to a seat upon her hammock where she had until just now been laying, eyes open, seemingly waiting for him.

She was a tiny thing. Only a bit less than a year older than him, and the second youngest of the crew after him. She had a short mess of dark brown hair, and yellow-gold colored skin. Her eyes were sharp, dark, and angled, denoting her origin from the Eastern continent across the ocean. And though the two were roughly the same age, she was much shorter than him and more thin of frame. Every time Jamie watched her at work he would imagine a large ant, for though she was so small she could lift and carry things that seemed too impossible for her small form to manage! But the most notable feature about her was her top lip, which had been split so gruesomely that it had healed in a maligned way that gave her the impression that she was always snarling, which admittedly fit her feisty personality quite well.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

She narrowed her eyes at him as he jolted and spun to face her, his hands held up beneath his chin instinctively as if he thought he would be struck.

“What’s goin’ on?” She asked again, with an accent more local and not indicative of her true heritage. “--Between you an’ Helgi, I mean.” She clarified as she rose to her feet. “Cuz you an’ her ‘ave been bein’ strange since the day before last or so, when before you were thick as thieves!”

“N-nothing’s going on!” Jamie attempted to reassure her, taking a step back away from her as she rose.

“An’ now Santiago’s been actin’ up as well! I’ve seen ‘im glarin’ at you.” She marched up to him, jabbing a boney finger painfully into his sternum! “What’d you do, Jamie?” She demanded in a frustrated tone.

“Nothing happened!” Jamie replied in an exasperated tone. He wasn’t exactly lying, or at least he didn’t feel like he was. Nothing really had taken place between the three of them yet, and even if one was to count his portent dreams, the other two had no way of knowing what had transpired anyhow. “I mean- a couple days back I asked Helgi what she did back in Bastión, and she got all weird with me! That’s all I can think of, honest!”

Cheshie furrowed her brow and pursed her lips, obviously unsatisfied, but one of the sleeping men beside them rolled over and groaned out a small murmur, half awake, and she must have realized that this was not the right time or place to have such an interrogation. So she sighed out a frustrated sigh, and she fell back into her hammock, turning away from him as if she did not even want to look at him anymore.

Jamie very slowly lowered himself into his own hammock, his eyes still locked on her back for a time, as if she were some large and wild cat that might decide to roll over and pounce upon him violently if he were to divert his attention. However as he lay there on his side, he swiftly felt his eyelids begin to droop as the exertion of the day finally took its toll. So tired was he, in fact, that he did not even notice when his arm, which now fell over the side of the hammock so that his fingers touched the floor, began to brush against his pack, and the particular rough leather band protruding from it…

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A small, hooded figure creeps carefully through musty and claustrophobic corridor-like alleyways. Many filthy, unhealthy-looking and downtrodden folk sat listlessly against the walls, or mumbled to each other within slouching huddles, their unfriendly eyes leering out to follow the individual as they passed, whose quickened gait drew much unwanted attention from passers-by despite their best attempts.

What few surroundings that could be seen by Jamie, as he was pulled along behind the creeping individual, were wholly unfamiliar to him, as was the temperature, which he could not truly feel, but was somehow aware of being humid and dry.

The subject of this particular vision, whoever they were, kept their head on a constant swivel. Their eyes darted here and there, back-and-forth, not only were they on the lookout for evident danger or ambushes from the unfriendly locals, but Jamie quickly noticed how their vision would dart up to scrutinize any passing title or signage on the sides, front, or corner of any passing building which was not currently boarded up closed, as if they had a particular one in mind to search for.

A large, hairy arm shot out from one a group of men, nearly wrapping around the little sneak-thief like a vice before they quickly beat upon it with their fists, and then slipped free from their attacker’s grasp!

“Aw, come back!” Jeered the man, as his grisly, toothless fellows giggled along mischievously. “We can ‘ave a good time, you an’ us!”

“Fack off!” The hooded figure replied, in a familiar and decidedly feminine tone, as she stumbled backwards a few steps so she could keep an eye on these goons, making sure they did not follow her, before she turned and continued on her way, leaving the group to cackle in the distance.

Quickly rounding the next corner she made a worried sound under her breath, apparently what she saw before her was not what she had been expecting, and was unfamiliar to her. Crouching down beside the wall, she began to semi-verbally retrace her steps, emoting with her hands to take a better grasp of her surroundings. Jamie floated down to get a better look, but without knowing what she knew, or where they now were, he could take away little from their current scenario but that the girl was a tad bit lost. Finally she rose to her feet once more and spun on her heel and began walking swiftly to the other way. While the corner which she had first taken appeared to head towards a wider breach between the buildings where many more downtrodden folk congregated, the way she was headed towards now ended abruptly upon a tall and haphazardly-built wooden plank fence. The girls stopped and stared up at its spires briefly, as if readying herself, before taking a running leap up upon it! She scrambled for a time, like a rodent on a branch, but she lost her footing and came tumbling back onto the dusty dirt below!

Not one to be deterred, the masked little individual swiftly stumbled back to her feet before launching herself again onto the fence, which groaned even beneath her marginal weight! Once again she fumbled around desperately at the top, but this time she was able to press her sternum over the top and tip like a pendulum, though the jagged peak of the fence seemed to dig painfully into her midsection as she did so. She grit her teeth and grunted from the exertion and the agony, but finally she toppled over to the other side, landing flat on her back with a thud which appeared to wind her severely, for she simply lay there for a time to catch her breath, before she rose once more, her hand gripping the painful scraped on her midsection beneath her clothes.

But as she lifted her head to see what was in front of her, she let out a little breath which sounded like relief. Before her appeared to be an old warehouse, one that seemed mostly abandoned like many of the buildings that she had passed within this slum. But then Jamie looked down at the dirt beneath the front of the building, and spied many a footprint, hoofprint, and tracks, denoting the frequency of one or perhaps many carriages to the place. The girl shuffled forwards, and the ghostly Cabin boy was pulled along after, not unlike a kite in the wind, but just as she reached out her hand to place it upon the coming door-

“Jamie? Jamie!”

An outside voice pierced through the illusion of the dream, which began to crumble to black around him! He kept his eyes shut tight, hoping that whoever it was would relent, let him rest in peace, to witness the rest of the vision.

“Oi, Jamie!”

He felt a hand upon his shoulder now, shaking him a bit. He tried to speak, but could only mumble something barely coherent to whomever it was. He felt the hand retract, and he felt he could still fall back into his dream if he kept his eyes shut as they were now. But instead of resuming as it had been, what he received instead was a series of images, as if the dream was being played out in the timeframe of a single instant! The hooded figure stood in a dark room surrounded by boxes and crates and barrels, before her was a particularly large wooden container which she was attempting to wrench open with a knife. Then the image became a large thuggish figure, a guardsman perhaps grappling her from behind, his thick arms locked around her neck and one of her shoulder apiece, lifting her off of her feet, which kicked desperately. Finally, a shiv that she had made from shaving down a stick, a makeshift weapon she produced from the inside of her sleeve, which she drove repeatedly into the larger man’s sternum, which spilled out red in reply! The wrapping around her nose and mouth had been pulled away during the struggle, revealing the grimacing face of Cheshie as she murdered the man dead! Finally, he saw a hand covered in ichor, using their bloody wooden tool to carve a checkmark into the upper corner of the box.

Jamie shot up from where he lay, gasping in from shock, and nearly colliding his head with his compatriot, who had been leaning over his hammock looking down at him!

“Woah there, lad!” Cried out the man, taking a step back. “Easy there!”

Jamie was cold and drenched in sweat, and his head had gone white, and he felt like he had just run a mile! Those final images had come and gone so quickly that it took him a moment to even remember what he had seen, though he felt a thumping fear in his chest the entire time, even before his recollection.

“You were tossing and turning there, kid. Some kind of nightmare?” Asked Cook.

As he liked to say, his name was his job, and his job was his name. Cook was a large, widely-framed man in his mid-forties, with a thick goatee, and a receding hairline with a pony-tail at the back, both the color of a pumpkin. He was in charge of all of the food within the vessel, as well as its dissemination to the rest of the crew. And as many of a Cabin boy’s duties involved petty tasks, the peeling of potatoes and the cutting of ingredients being one of them, Cook was the closest to his direct superior upon the vessel.

“I had thought to let you sleep in a bit, lad. You’ve been through a wringer lately. But it’s already mid-day!”

Instinctively, Jamie looked over at the hammock where Cheshie had lay last night, but by now she was gone, as were the rest of those who had slept through the night. The men occupying the bunks now were the few of the graveyard shift.

“Well whatever it was, don’t mind it none!” Declared Cook with a jovial grin, grasping Jamie under the armpit and hoisting him to his feet with an immense strength! “Let old Cook take your mind off of it, and let’s go whip up a nice hot stew for the boys!”

But as the much larger man began to drag him away, Jamie slipped free of him and scrambled down to collect his pack, as that damnable head had begun to roll free of from the tossing and turning of the waves!

“Coming!” He called after the man, turning to join him. But when he peered down at his sack in order to pull the drawstrings, he felt a wave of goosebumps wash over him, as he saw the shrunken head was wearing the expression of a putrid scowl.