Henry’s heart raced as he navigated the eerie corridors of the Good Fortune. The once-luxurious cruise ship now felt like a floating prison, its halls echoing with whispered fears and mounting unrest. The news of Captain Thornton’s death had spread like wildfire, along with the horrifying revelation that Percy, his own brother, had been the one to end the captain’s life.
He found Percy in the captain’s former quarters, now a makeshift command center for the mutineers. Percy stood hunched over the desk, frantically scribbling notes and diagrams, a manic gleam in his eyes that Henry had never seen before.
“Percy,” Henry called out, his voice quavering. “What have you done?”
Percy’s head snapped up, a unsettling grin spreading across his face. “Henry! Little brother, you’re just in time. We’re on the brink of breaking free from this nightmare!”
Henry shook his head in disbelief. “Nightmare? Percy, you killed a man! The captain... how could you?”
Percy’s expression hardened, his grin morphing into a look of intense determination. “You don’t understand, Henry. The captain, the crew - they’re not what they seem. None of this is real, don’t you see?”
“What are you talking about?” Henry demanded, struggling to comprehend his brother’s words.
Percy leaned forward, his voice dropping to an urgent whisper. “Think about it, Henry. The unnatural stillness of the sea, the way we’re trapped here, how time seems to blur... It’s all part of the simulation.”
“Simulation?” Henry repeated, bewildered.
Percy nodded vigorously. “Yes! We’re trapped in an advanced computer simulation, Henry. A massive experiment in mind control and reality manipulation. The captain... he wasn’t just a captain. He was an admin, a controller. He had the power to manipulate our reality, to keep us trapped here!”
Henry felt a chill run down his spine. The fervor in Percy’s eyes, the absolute conviction in his voice - it was as if he was looking at a stranger wearing his brother’s face.
“Even if that were true,” Henry argued, struggling to keep his voice steady, “it doesn’t justify murder, Percy. This is insane!”
Percy slammed his fist on the desk. “Insane? Open your eyes, Henry! Haven’t you felt it? The way your thoughts sometimes feel... foreign? The déjà vu? The inconsistencies in our surroundings? It’s all part of the program, glitches in the system!”
Henry shook his head, backing away slightly. “Listen to yourself, Percy. You sound... you’ve lost your mind. This isn’t you. The brother I know wouldn’t resort to violence based on some sci-fi fantasy!”
Percy’s face softened slightly, a hint of the brother Henry knew showing through. “I know it’s hard to accept, Henry. I didn’t want to believe it either. But the evidence is overwhelming. The captain’s death... it was necessary. It was the only way to force a system reset, to break us out of this mind-controlled simulation.”
“Evidence? What evidence?” Henry asked, his fear warring with a morbid curiosity.
Percy’s eyes lit up. He grabbed a stack of papers from the desk and thrust them at Henry. “Look! Patterns in passenger behavior, inconsistencies in the ship’s layout, impossibilities in the sea’s behavior. It all points to one thing - none of this is real!”
Henry glanced at the papers, seeing a mess of scribbled notes, diagrams, and what looked like complex mathematical equations. It was the work of a mind teetering on the edge of madness.
“Percy, this is... this is crazy,” Henry said, his voice soft. “Even if by some impossible chance you’re right, killing the captain... it’s wrong. It’s murder. We could have found another way.”
Percy shook his head vehemently. “There was no other way, Henry. The captain was the key. His death was the trigger we needed to start breaking down the simulation. Soon, you’ll see. Reality will start to glitch, to break apart. And then we’ll be free!”
Henry felt tears welling up in his eyes. “Percy, please. Listen to yourself. This isn’t rational. You need help.”
“Help?” Percy scoffed. “I’m the only one seeing clearly, Henry. The only one brave enough to take action. Soon, everyone will understand. We’ll wake up from this nightmare, and I’ll be hailed as a hero.”
Henry stared at his brother, torn between love and horror. “I... I can’t accept this, Percy. What you’ve done... it’s unforgivable. Simulation or not, you’ve taken a life.”
Percy’s expression hardened again. “I did what had to be done, Henry. For all of us. To break us free from this mind-controlled hell. Sometimes, we have to make hard choices for the greater good.”
The brothers stood in tense silence, the weight of Percy’s actions hanging heavy between them. Henry saw the desperation in Percy’s eyes, the absolute need to believe in this elaborate delusion. And despite his revulsion at what Percy had done, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of doubt. What if, by some impossible chance, Percy was right?
“I don’t know what to believe anymore, Percy,” Henry said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I know that what you’ve done is wrong. No matter what you believe about simulations or mind control, a man is dead by your hand.”
Percy placed his hands on Henry’s shoulders, his grip tight. “Stay with me, Henry. Watch what unfolds. Soon, you’ll see the glitches, the breaks in reality. You’ll understand why it had to be this way.”
***
The once-grand corridors of the Good Fortune now stood in shadow, emergency lighting casting an eerie, sickly glow that did little to dispel the growing darkness. In one of these dimly lit passages, a group of ten passengers huddled together, their voices low and tinged with fear as they discussed the recent, unthinkable events that had unfolded aboard the ship.
Among them stood Brian, his posture relaxed and his voice carrying a forced lightness that seemed at odds with the tense atmosphere. His eyes, however, held a strange, unsettling gleam that went unnoticed by the others in the poor lighting.
“Come on, folks,” Brian said, his tone jovial but with an undercurrent of something unidentifiable. “I know things seem bad, but we’ve got to keep our spirits up. We’re all in this together, right?”
A few nervous chuckles rippled through the group, but the tension remained palpable. One man in particular, a fidgety fellow named Thomas, seemed to gravitate towards Brian’s apparent optimism.
“I... I guess you’re right,” Thomas said, his voice quavering slightly. “It’s just... everything’s gone mad, hasn’t it? The captain murdered, that Percy fellow taking over... What’s next?”
Brian clapped a hand on Thomas’s shoulder, causing the man to jump slightly. “Now, now, Thomas. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this.”
As the group continued to talk, their fears and theories bounced off the narrow walls of the corridor. Whispers of conspiracy, of government experiments, of supernatural forces at work grew louder and more frantic.
“I heard the water outside isn’t moving at all,” one woman hissed. “It’s like glass. That’s not natural!”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“And what about the communications?” another man added. “How is it possible that nothing’s working? Not even the emergency systems!”
The paranoia was almost tangible, a living thing that writhed and grew with each passing moment. Eyes darted nervously, searching the shadows for unseen threats. Every creak of the ship, every distant sound caused a ripple of fear to pass through the group.
As the discussion grew more heated, the fidgety man’s growing panic was evident in his twitching hands and darting gaze. Brian’s lips curled into a small, secret smile as he watched him from the corner of his eye.
Finally, someone voiced what they had all been thinking: “We need food. We can’t just stand here talking while our supplies run out.”
A murmur of agreement passed through the group. “We should find Percy,” someone suggested. “Find out how he’s going to handle the rationing.”
As the group prepared to leave, Brian spoke up. “You all go ahead. I think I’ll stay here with Thomas for a bit. He seems like he could use some company, right friend?”
Thomas nodded gratefully, relieved to have someone looking out for him. The others, too preoccupied with their own fears and the prospect of securing food, barely registered Brian’s words as they moved off down the corridor.
They left Brian and Thomas behind and moved through the dimly lit corridors of the Good Fortune, their footsteps echoing ominously in the eerie silence. As they made their way towards Percy’s makeshift headquarters, hushed voices debated the wisdom of their plan.
“Are we sure it’s safe to approach Percy?” a woman whispered, her eyes darting nervously. “He killed the captain, for God’s sake!”
“What choice do we have?” another passenger countered. “We need to know how the food’s being handled. We can’t just starve!”
As they continued their tense discussion, it became clear that the fear of starvation outweighed their apprehension of Percy. Hunger was a more immediate threat than a potentially unstable leader. As they neared their destination, the sound of angry voices grew louder. Rounding a corner, they were met with a shocking sight: a large, agitated crowd was gathered outside Percy’s door, their faces contorted with rage as they screamed his name.
“What’s going on?” one of the newcomers asked, approaching a man at the back of the mob.
The man turned, his face a mask of desperation and anger. “When Percy and his crew took over, they didn’t secure the food properly. Other passengers ransacked almost everything! There’s barely anything left!”
This news hit the group like a physical blow. Shock quickly gave way to outrage as they realized the implications. They had come seeking answers about rationing, only to find there might be nothing left to ration.
“We need food now!” someone shouted, their voice joining the cacophony of angry demands.
Inside the room, Percy was oblivious to the growing threat outside his door. He sat hunched over a desk strewn with documents, his eyes wild as he frantically searched for proof of his theories. Each fruitless minute increased his frustration, pushing him closer to the edge of insanity.
Suddenly, the sound of splintering wood filled the air as the door burst open. A passenger with a set of lock picks stood triumphantly at the front of the surging crowd.
Percy leapt to his feet, facing the angry mob with a mixture of surprise and defiance. “Everyone, please! Calm down!” he shouted over the din. “This will all be over soon. Don’t you see? This is just a simulation!”
His words fell on deaf ears. Even his own men, who had supported his takeover, now regarded him with a mixture of fear and disgust. They edged away, leaving Percy increasingly isolated. As the crowd pressed forward, hurling accusations and demands, a high-pitched whine began filling his ears, drowning out all other sounds. In that moment, something inside Percy snapped. Without conscious thought, his hand moved to his waistband, pulling out a Lindleton Revolver.
Time seemed to slow as his finger squeezed the trigger. The gun’s report was deafening in the confined space. A woman at the front of the crowd crumpled to the ground, blood blossoming on her shirt.
For a moment, stunned silence reigned. Then chaos erupted.
“He has a gun!” someone screamed. “How did he get that through clearance?!”
The crowd at the front surged backward, desperately trying to escape the room. Those at the back, unaware of what had happened, continued to push forward, creating a dangerous crush.
Percy, his eyes wild and unfocused, raised the gun again. “Stay back!” he screamed, spittle flying from his lips. “If you don’t want to die, you’ll get in line! This is for your own good! Can’t you see?!”
His face contorted into a grotesque mask of madness, all traces of the man he once was now gone. The passengers closest to him could only stare in horror at the demon before them.
Just as it seemed Percy might open fire again, Henry, who had been watching in silent horror as the whole scene unfolded just behind Percy, acted. With a swift, decisive movement, he brought a heavy object down on Percy’s head. The gun clattered to the floor as Percy collapsed.
In the ensuing confusion, Henry quickly pocketed the revolver, his actions unnoticed by the panicking crowd.
As news of what had transpired spread through the ship, the last vestiges of order crumbled. Without food, without leadership, and with the threat of violence now all too real, the passengers of the Good Fortune descended into anarchy.
Groups formed, alliances were made and broken in minutes as people sought safety in numbers. Others chose to go it alone, barricading themselves in their cabins with whatever supplies they could gather.
The ship had become a floating nightmare. In the darkness of the corridors, fear and desperation ruled. The thin veneer of civilization had been stripped away, revealing the primal instincts that lurked beneath.
As night fell on the Good Fortune, the passengers faced a terrifying reality: in this new world of scarcity and danger, it was every man for himself.
***
As the sound of their footsteps faded, Brian turned to Thomas with a warm smile. “Say, Thomas, I’ve got some friends down on the lower deck. Why don’t we go meet them? Might take your mind off things.”
Thomas hesitated for a moment, but Brian’s friendly demeanor and the fear of being alone in the oppressive darkness quickly won out. “S-sure,” he stammered. “That sounds nice.”
As they began their descent into the bowels of the ship, Brian kept up a steady stream of light conversation, punctuated by jokes that elicited nervous laughter from Thomas. The further down they went, however, the more Thomas’s unease grew.
“We’ve passed all the passenger cabins,” Thomas observed, his voice tight with renewed anxiety. “Where exactly are we going, Brian?”
Brian’s smile never faltered. “Oh, one of my friends is part of the crew. They’ve got a little game room set up down here. It’ll be fun, you’ll see.”
Thomas nodded, but his steps became more hesitant. The corridors here were even darker, the emergency lighting sparse and flickering. The air felt thick and heavy, carrying a strange, metallic scent that made Thomas’s nose wrinkle.
As they descended further, the ship’s groans and creaks grew louder, more ominous. Thomas could have sworn he heard something that sounded like whispers coming from behind the walls, but he shook his head, trying to dismiss it as his imagination.
“Brian,” Thomas said, his voice barely above a whisper, “I’m not sure about this. Maybe we should go back...”
Brian’s hand clamped down on Thomas’s shoulder, his grip far stronger than Thomas would have expected. “Now, now, Thomas. We’re almost there. Trust me, you won’t want to miss this.”
The forced joviality had left Brian’s voice, replaced by something cold and eager that sent shivers down Thomas’s spine. For the first time, Thomas looked directly into Brian’s eyes and saw something there that made his blood run cold.
They rounded a corner, and Thomas’s breath caught in his throat. Before them stood what looked to be a wall of glass, the reflections within seeming to hold a life of their own.
“W-we shouldn’t be here,” Thomas croaked. “Something’s not right, I-”
“Oh, I think you’ll find I can be wherever I want.” Brian said, his voice carrying an echo that seemed to reverberate through the metal walls. At that moment, Thomas realized that he could only see his own reflection on the surface of the bizarre wall, as though Brian wasn’t even there. Thomas looked Brian in the eyes for a moment and, without saying a word, turned on his heel to run, but Brian moved with inhuman speed.
There was a sickening crack as Brian’s foot connected with Thomas’s leg, shattering the bone. Thomas fell to the ground, screaming in pain and terror. Brian went to reach down and grab him, but Thomas started flinging his arms and legs wildly, resisting as he screamed desperately for help through an increasingly raw and stripped voice.
Suddenly, he felt an explosion of pain dull his senses as the thud of something hard and metallic collided with his skull. Sprawling in pain on the ground, he put his hand to his head and pulled it back to find it a sticky, dark red.
The concussion dulling his mind, he clumsily tried to flail away as pain and confusion consumed his every thought as Brian once again lifted his arm up high.
“You should have just stayed still, Thomas.”
KLANG “AGH-HEL-!” BOMF-skrrrt-snap! “IiihhiiIIhhii-!!!” Crack, splat, CRUNCH! “...Aaa...uuhu..ooh..no...plea...”
...Shfff...shfff...shfff...
A trail of red pursued the mangled and pitiful man as he was dragged towards the glass wall that stood in stark contrast to the ship. Brian lifted the whimpering Thomas and faced him up against the glass wall, the reflection within beginning to writhe in anticipation as it reached out and invaded Thomas with violent glee.
He let out a silent scream as he flopped around on the ground in agony before suddenly losing consciousness, his wounds excreting a mercurial liquid and disappearing as though they were never there.
And at some point, Brian had begun a chant, his voice full of euphoric cheer-
"I alone soon to set the captives free,
To bask in joy and harvests of glee,
This metal can of vile visage-'tis a mar on my sea!
Don't cry oh children wandering hither-
My bosom is sweet reflections of laughter I assure,
With the screams of fools the final shiver,
Their tears a stain that drain and wither,
Yet even those my heart does cherish,
For light you have brought upon my parish,
So still and dark for far too long,
Let us now alight anew this mirrors throng,
In conviviality, in jubilee!
As I imbibe again after eons timeless song."