God, I hate the ocean.

That might sound strange coming from a marine engineer, but usually ships like this can make it to harbor. Almost all repairs are done on dry land; The Company’s only ever needed a handful of emergency repairs, and this was my first one.

I kept telling Angie something was wrong. She kept telling me I was paranoid. Maybe I was, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t something out to get us.

There’s five of us, or there were, I guess. Myself, Carlos, Gaile, Michelle, and our fearless leader, Angie. I had met them before, but had only worked with Gaile, since we were stationed at the same dry dock. The flight was fun, really got to know everyone, even forgot about the bottomless death pit beneath me for a few minutes. Until we arrived.

The first red flag I saw was the ship itself. We read in the report that the ship likely had massive internal damage and stopped moving entirely as a result, but I swear I could see the water still churning from the propellers. Currents, Angie said.

We disembarked from the helicopter, and red flag number two hit me like a ton of bricks. We walked normally. No adjusting to our sea legs, no wobbles, nothing. Steady as solid ground. Something was wrong. This was wrong.

“These sure are some calm waters,” Angie said. She had an answer for everything.

We split up, I went below deck with Michelle while Gaile, Carlos, and Angie went to the helm to read the sensors. We were in the dark as far as specifics went, all they told us was to fix it and move on.

We were close to the engine, and I was certain the propellers were still running, it was like a train running by to either side. Michelle called it in over the radio, and Carlos replied that everything seemed operational, yet we were still stationary. I asked if the anchor was down, and then red flag number three reared its ugly head.

“The anchor is gone,” he replied, “I can see it from here, the chain looks broken.”

“It looks cut!” Gaile exclaimed. I was about to turn tail and run until Angie told us all to focus on getting the boat moving again, and we could leave as soon as it could. I picked up my pace.

Shouldn’t have done that, I tripped as soon as I turned the next corner. I thought I must’ve hit my head something fierce, because it looked like I tripped over some kind of root, like from a tree, but without any bark, and colored a deep green. I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or more worried that Michelle was seeing the same thing. Red flag number four.

I radioed it in, and Angie wrote it off as some kind of new conduit or something and told us to move on. I know I shouldn’t have looked back, but I could have sworn I saw it move.

The engine was pristine. I read on the report this vessel had only been on a dozen or so voyages, and it really showed. The casing even still had its original polish. It was clearly still running, and absolutely deafening. So loud we couldn’t hear Gaile screaming her warning over the radio.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

The whole ship lurched to one side then the other, much more violently than a wave or anything else you’d expect could cause. Thank God this boat’s up to code, safety rails everywhere. Guess that’s red flag number five.

When everything stopped moving, it was peaceful. Too peaceful. The engine had completely died, and as soon as we noticed it, the lights went out and the emergency ones came on. Angie called over the radio for us to get on deck ASAP. We were two steps ahead of her, already running down the hall.

Then I stopped keeping track of red flags.

The root, or whatever the hell it was, had grown. It filled half the corridor, tearing through the steel as it spread past the walls. Without even thinking, I ran as fast as I could and vaulted over the growth. I regret that more than anything I’ve ever done.

I cleared it with no problems, but it must not have liked that. Tendrils shot from every surface, terrible, grabbing things. I ran. I left Michelle behind. I didn’t even realize it until I heard her screams. I never looked back.

When I finally saw sunlight, I was ecstatic. It lasted about three seconds, then I saw the helicopter, or rather the lack of one. Must’ve fallen in the water in the chaos, crashed right through the guard rail.

I was about to fall to my knees and wallow in self pity when Angie and Gaile came running from the other direction. They asked where Michelle was. I asked where Carlos was. We changed the subject.

Gaile said she saw something on the sonar. A mass covering the bottom of the ship, going down as far as it could sense. She had this look in her eye, like a mix of panic and... hunger.

Angie called me over, she had been trying to open one of the doors, something about getting somewhere secure since there were no lifeboats. Guess it wasn’t as up to code as I thought. Damn automation, take out the human factor and they go lenient on the safety nets. We managed to pry it open, and called over to Gaile.

I only saw her for an instant before she jumped. Jumped might not be the best word. She just walked right over the edge through the hole in the guard rails the helicopter left behind. I tried to run towards her, but Angie grabbed my arm, her grip hard as steel.

“She’s gone,” she told me, “we need to get somewhere safe.” Her eyes were dark and lifeless, and her voice flat and even. I had never been more terrified of anyone in my life.

We ran until we found a room, storage for spare parts and specialized tools. Seemed secure enough, and maybe we could even do some repairs, or at least hold until a recovery team inevitably came looking for us. Angie gave me the satellite phone and told me to try to contact The Company while she took inventory.

I fiddled with it, trying to figure out how to turn the thing on until I realized it was busted. I turned it around to check the back, and the whole casing fell apart. All the screws were gone. I turned to tell Angie, and thank God I did.

She was ten feet away, a heavy pipe wrench held high like she was ready to bring it down on my head. I shouted her name, and she ran at me, swinging wildly. I avoided her as much as I could, but she caught me a few times, I think she even broke some ribs.

I’ve never been a fighter, and I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to knock the wrench out of her hands. I thought it might calm her down, but she jumped on me, clawing and snarling like a rabid animal. She held me down, scratching me with her nails, beating me harder than I ever thought she could.

I reached, trying to find anything I could fight her off with, and finally found something solid. I swung, and the pipe wrench came crashing into her head, leaving a dent in her skull. She had this blank stare, and her mouth was slightly open. I swung again.

The next thing I knew, I was over her, and blood was everywhere. Maybe I should have kept the wrench, but I wanted to leave it and the whole room behind me. I think I noticed the tendrils covering all the walls then, but the next couple minutes were kind of a blur.

I remember running across the deck, trying to get to the helm in a last ditch effort to get things moving. I remember some kind of groaning coming from over the edge. I remember saying, “don’t look,” over and over.

When I finally got to the helm, I found out what happened to Carlos. His head had been smashed into one of the machines. I don’t know why, but something told me he did it to himself. I would’ve turned and walked away if a flashing light across the room hadn’t caught my eye.

The black box, still functional. Must have an internal power source or something. Good. Means this will probably survive.

I know why they did it. Why Gaile jumped, why Angie attacked me, why Carlos bashed open his own head. They’d been hearing the voice. The one whispering in my ear now. The one below us. The one below all.

God, I hate the ocean.