Elijah sat in the dimly lit cabin, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows across the room. Hayley lay sleeping beside him, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that provided a small measure of comfort in the unsettling quiet. In his hands, Elijah held the book he had been reading since before they came here, trying to lose himself for a short while in its story. But tonight, the familiar words failed to provide their usual escape.

His eyes skimmed over the same paragraph for what felt like the hundredth time, the sentences blurring together in a meaningless jumble. With a frustrated sigh, he closed the book and set it aside, running a hand through his tousled hair.

The events of the past few days played on a loop in his mind - the unnatural stillness of the sea, the growing unrest among the passengers, and most disturbingly, the drastic change in Brian. The image of his friend in the med bay, his strangely vulgar speech and behavior so foreign for the usually quiet and eloquent man, haunted Elijah.

He glanced at Hayley, her face peaceful in sleep, and felt a pang of guilt for the worry he knew she carried. Brian’s transformation, and the implications it held for their own sanity in this bizarre situation, had shaken them.

Unable to sit still any longer, Elijah carefully extricated himself from the bed, trying not to disturb Hayley. He scribbled a quick note explaining where he’d gone, just in case she woke up, and slipped out of the cabin.

The corridors of the Good Fortune were eerily quiet at this hour. The lighting cast a sickly glow, creating pockets of shadow that seemed to writhe and shift as Elijah passed. He quickened his pace, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched.

Arriving at the med bay, Elijah was surprised to find it nearly deserted. A nurse informed him that Brian had been released earlier that day, deemed stable enough to return to his own cabin. She fidgeted and scratched at herself, pitch rising and dropping as she spoke in a way that felt almost erratic. Elijah thanked her and turned away, his unease growing as he quickly hurried away.

As he made his way to Brian’s cabin, Elijah tried to prepare himself for what he might find. Would Brian be more lucid now? Or had his condition worsened? The uncertainty gnawed at him, each step bringing a mix of anticipation and dread.

***

In the confines of his cabin, Brian sat rigidly in front of the mirror. His reflection stared back at him, but the eyes that gazed out from the glass seemed to belong to a stranger. They were darker, somehow, with an unsettling depth that seemed to swirl and shift like quicksilver.

His lips moved ceaselessly, forming words in a low, rhythmic murmur that filled the small space. The words tumbled over each other, a stream of consciousness that flowed without pause or inflection.

“...love… rebirth… whole… control…”

Barely audible words poured out of his mouth as the mantra continued unbroken, as if Brian were in a trance. His face remained expressionless, a blank canvas that betrayed no emotion. The only movement came from his lips and the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

In the mirror, shadows seemed to gather at the edges of the reflection, creeping inward like tendrils of smoke. They pulsed and writhed in time with Brian’s whispered words, creating an illusion of movement that was both mesmerizing and deeply unsettling.

Suddenly, a sharp knock at the door shattered the hypnotic atmosphere. Brian’s words cut off abruptly, the sudden silence as jarring as the knock itself. His head turned slowly towards the door, the movement almost mechanical in its precision.

For a moment, he remained seated, as if unsure how to respond to this interruption. Then, with a fluid grace that seemed at odds with his previous stillness, he rose to his feet. As he moved away from the mirror, the shadows in the reflection seemed to retreat, fading back into normalcy.

Brian approached the door, his footsteps silent on the carpeted floor. He paused for a heartbeat, his hand hovering over the handle. Then, with a smooth motion, he opened the door.

Brian’s lips curved into a smile, the expression warm and familiar.

“Elijah,” He said, his voice carrying none of the strangeness it had in the med bay. “Please, come in.”

***

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Elijah said, his eyes scanning the room before settling back on Brian. “I just... I wanted to see how you were doing. After everything that happened.”

Brian’s smile widened slightly. “Not at all. I’m glad you came, actually. I’ve been hoping to talk to you.”

There was something in Brian’s tone, a subtle undercurrent that Elijah couldn’t quite identify. It sent a shiver down his spine, though he couldn’t say why. As Brian gestured for him to take a seat, Elijah couldn’t shake the feeling that he was stepping into something far more complex and dangerous than a simple conversation with a friend.

Elijah settled into the chair in Brian’s room, his eyes never leaving his friend as the older man took a seat to the side. The cabin felt unnaturally still, the air heavy with an unspoken tension that seemed to press down on Elijah’s chest. He studied Brian’s face intently, searching for any sign of the man he had come to know and respect over their short but intense friendship.

At first glance, Brian looked much the same as he always had - the lines around his eyes that crinkled when he smiled, the salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed, the posture of a man comfortable in his own skin. But there was something different, something just beneath the surface that Elijah couldn’t quite place. It was as if a stranger was wearing Brian’s face, mimicking his mannerisms with uncanny precision.

After a moment of charged silence, Elijah cleared his throat, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet room. “How have you been feeling, Brian?” he asked, trying to keep his voice casual despite the anxiety churning in his gut.

Brian’s lips curved into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a beat of silence before he responded, his voice smooth and controlled. “I’ve been doing quite well, actually. Better than I’ve felt in years, even.”

The words should have been reassuring, but instead, they sent a chill down Elijah’s spine. He wanted to believe Brian, wanted desperately for things to be normal again, for this to be just another conversation between friends. But the unease in his heart refused to be quelled, growing stronger with each passing moment.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“That’s... that’s good to hear,” Elijah said, his voice tentative. He paused, wrestling with whether to voice his concerns. The air in the room seemed to thicken, making it harder to breathe. Finally, he continued, “It’s just... the way you were when you first woke up. It was unsettling, Brian. You weren’t yourself.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Elijah tensed, unsure of how Brian would react. To his surprise, Brian went completely still, his expression unreadable. For a moment, the silence in the room was absolute, broken only by the faint, distant hum of the ship’s engines.

Then, a soft chuckle broke the tension, though it did little to ease Elijah’s discomfort. If anything, the sound only heightened his sense of wrongness.

“Yes, I suppose I was rather strange, wasn’t I?” Brian said, his tone light but with an undercurrent Elijah couldn’t quite identify. Was it amusement? Contempt? Something else entirely? “I must apologize for that. It’s funny, really. The way I was talking... it was quite like how my father would speak. Perhaps some of the old man has stuck with me more than I realized.”

Elijah nodded slowly, noting how Brian’s eloquence seemed to have returned, his mannerisms eerily reminiscent of the man he had known before the incident. A part of him wanted to be relieved, to say “Oh, so that’s all it was” and return to the easy friendship they had shared. To laugh off his concerns and pretend that everything was fine.

But that nagging unease, the same instinct that had warned him of every danger he had faced until now, refused to be silenced. It screamed at him that something was deeply, fundamentally wrong.

He couldn’t ignore the depth that had settled in Brian’s eyes, a darkness that seemed to swirl and shift like quicksilver when caught in the right light. It was as if something was peering out at him from behind Brian’s familiar gaze.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re doing better,” Elijah said, forcing a smile that felt brittle on his face. “Everyone’s looking forward to having you back around.”

Brian simply smiled in response, the expression not quite reaching his eyes. A heavy silence fell between them, stretching on uncomfortably. Elijah felt sweat beading on his forehead, his heart pounding in his chest. Every instinct told him to run, to get as far away from this room - from Brian - as possible.

Just as the silence became unbearable, Brian broke it with words that sent a fresh wave of unease through Elijah.

“You should leave now, Elijah.”

The abrupt dismissal caught Elijah off guard. He blinked, leaning forward slightly as if he had misheard. “Is... is something wrong?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Brian slowly shook his head, his expression unchanging. “No. But you should leave now.”

For a brief, fleeting moment, Elijah thought he caught a glimpse of the friend he knew in those eyes. A flash of warmth, of the kind, eloquent man who had shared his fears and hopes just days ago. But then a chilling thought struck him, cold and sharp as an icicle through his heart: ‘What might happen if I stay?’

The realization sent a violent shudder through him, and he found himself rising to his feet almost involuntarily. His legs felt weak, unsteady, as if they might give out at any moment.

Brian rose as well, moving with a fluid grace that seemed at odds with his age. He escorted Elijah to the door, his movements purposeful and unhurried. As Elijah stepped through the doorframe, he paused, a sudden, overwhelming need to connect with his friend one last time overriding his fear.

He turned, looking Brian in the eyes. “I’m glad I met you, Brian,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

For the briefest of moments, a flicker of something - pain? regret? - crossed Brian’s face. It was a flash of humanity, a glimpse of the man he once was. But before Elijah could be sure of what he’d seen, before he could reach out and try to pull his friend back from whatever abyss he had fallen into, Brian’s expression smoothed over. Without a word, he simply closed the door.

The soft click of the latch seemed to echo in the empty corridor. Elijah stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door, unable to move. The finality of the moment settled over him like a heavy shroud, cold and oppressive.

He knew, with a certainty that ached in his chest, that he had just seen the last true glimpse of his friend. Whatever Brian had become, whatever force now resided behind those familiar eyes, it wasn’t the man he had known. The Brian he had befriended, the one who had shared his fears and insecurities, who had shown such kindness and depth of character, was gone.

***

Elijah’s legs felt like lead as he stumbled away from Brian’s room, his mind reeling from the encounter. The corridor stretched before him, suddenly alien and threatening. As he made his way back towards his cabin, he found himself hyper-aware of his surroundings, his senses on high alert.

At first, it was just subtle things - a passenger’s gaze lingering too long, a conversation falling silent as he passed. But as he continued, the strangeness became more pronounced, impossible to ignore.

To his left, a man stood motionless at a window, staring out at the unnaturally still sea. His lips moved ceaselessly, forming words Elijah couldn’t make out. The man’s eyes were glazed over, unfocused, as if seeing something beyond the glass that Elijah couldn’t perceive.

A chill ran down Elijah’s spine as he quickened his pace. He passed a woman whose head snapped towards him as he approached. Her eyes, cold and hostile, followed his movement. There was something predatory in her gaze that made Elijah’s heart race.

Further down the corridor, a group of men huddled together, their voices rising and falling in an odd cadence. As Elijah drew near, they turned as one, their eyes boring into him with undisguised suspicion and hostility. He could feel their gazes like physical things, pressing against his back long after he’d passed them.

With each encounter, Elijah’s steps grew faster. The surrounding faces began to blur. He was no longer walking but jogging, then running full tilt down the corridors of the Good Fortune.

A woman’s scream pierced the air as he sprinted past. Her words were unintelligible, a garbled mess of sounds that bore little resemblance to language. Spittle flew from her mouth as she shrieked, her face contorted in a rictus of fury or madness - or both.

Elijah ran harder, his lungs burning, his heart pounding so fiercely he thought it might burst from his chest. The corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, playing tricks on his panicked mind. Was he going in circles? Had he passed that same porthole before?

Finally, mercifully, he saw his cabin door. With a last burst of speed, he reached it, fumbling with the handle before all but falling inside. He slammed the door shut behind him, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the small space.

“Elijah?” Hayley’s voice, thick with sleep but quickly sharpening with concern, cut through his panic. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Elijah slumped against the door, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He could feel Hayley’s worried gaze on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes just yet. Instead, he focused on steadying his breathing, on convincing himself that he was safe - for now.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he looked up at Hayley. The sight of her - disheveled from sleep but undeniably herself - nearly undid him. A lump formed in his throat as he realized how terrified he’d been that she, too, might have changed while he was gone.

“Hey, Hayley,” he said, his voice hoarse and trembling. “Are you... are you feeling any different from usual?”

Hayley’s brow furrowed in confusion and concern. “I’m fine, Eli. But you’re scaring me. What happened out there?”

Elijah felt a wave of relief wash over him at her response. He slumped further; the adrenaline draining from his system and leaving him feeling weak and shaking.

“We can’t just sit around waiting to get home anymore.” He said with rising determination. “Something’s happening on this ship, something bad.”

Before he could elaborate, the cabin’s intercom crackled to life. Captain Thornton’s strained and weary voice filling the small space.

“Attention all passengers and crew. Due to our continued situation, we must now switch over to emergency power. All non-essential systems will be shut down effective immediately. We ask for your cooperation and understanding during this difficult time.”

As the announcement ended, the cabin lights dimmed significantly, plunging them into a murky twilight. Elijah and Hayley looked at each other, their faces pale in the dim light.

“Eli,” Hayley whispered, fear evident in her voice, “what’s really going on?”

Elijah stood on shaky legs, moving to sit beside Hayley on the bed. He took her hands in his, drawing strength from her presence.

“I don’t know exactly,” he said softly. “But I think... I think we’re in more danger than we realized. And it’s not just from the ship being stranded.”