“What is the status of the turbines?” The Captain of the HMS Sanguine stood with his hands planted on his desk. The solid wood was damp from a leaking pipe overhead. It was covered with maps, reports, and generator blueprints. His personal cabin was tucked behind the bridge, and was fairly cramped. He had served as captain from one ship to another, and was decorated as one of the most senior officers in the company’s fleet. Of course his bosses knew he was a vampire, it was probably the only reason he was nominated to take charge of the Sanguine during this cruise.
The captain’s personal cabin held a twin sized cot, an old metal bookshelf, a table, and a single portable radio tucked away on a corner desk. Every captain who had commanded the ship seemed to make it a tradition to leave behind books or something of theirs behind. Judging by the piles of books packing the shelf, the ship had seen many captains over its years.
Captain Craig Hughes wasn’t sure if he was going to continue that tradition, it was the last thing on his mind. He had a cigar in his mouth, its flame was in dire need of being relit. In front of him was his second officer, George Castano, he was older than himself with a bushy white beard and a thick mustache. George had a sailors stature, one deserving of being in command yet constantly remaining second. The Master Engineer was also there, a middle aged woman with dark amber skin and thin lips. Her hair was cut short, and starting to show wisps of white in her brown curls. Victoria Garcia Lopez had grease stains on her arms, and her thick trousers were a mess. She had been busy organizing the repair crews for the past several hours.
Neither of them were eager to offer their reports. Several grueling seconds went by before the head of engineering spoke up. “Still inoperable. Primary generators are functioning at only twelve percent capacity, we need no less than thirty to restore propulsion.”
Captain Hughes groaned, “Have you determined the source of the problem? What caused the malfunction?” Dozens of theories had been circulating to explain the sudden collapse, but deep down Captain Hughes only suspected one. He kept his feelings to himself, at least until he knew more.
Victoria didn’t answer, she looked tired. Just before George spoke someone knocked on the door. The Captain watched as his second turned away to see who had interrupted them. As he opened the door one of the bridge officers was eager to meet them. In his hand was a single piece of paper.
“Captain sir, weather report!” The ensign did his best to appear calm, but Captain Hughes noticed his hand was twitching.
“Let me see it,” Captain Hughes beckoned him to approach. Accepting the parcel of information, he took a moment to study the report. It was an emergency message from the company satellite feed, it was only a few lines but enough to alarm him. “Dear god…” his expression grew cold.
…
“Row row row your boat, gently down the stream,” The voice echoed through her barred enclosure and down the hallow corridor. It was but a whimper in the grand silence of the ships halls, a dull sign of life in the darkened intestines of the grand vessel. “Merely merely merely merely life is but a dream…”
The darkness surrounded Rebecca as she continued to sing the lullaby repeatedly in her cell. Each melody seemed to sync with the subtle movement of the ground beneath her feet, as if the waves were complimenting her shifting tone. She didn’t mind the loneliness or the darkness. In fact it was when the shadows wrapped around her’s that she felt the most comfortable…the most at home. Rebecca discovered at a young age that she was different than most girls, even most vampires, in that isolation was a warm friend. Her earliest memories were of the dark. She was born in it, and raised in it, for it was the Seraphine way.
She grew up hearing the cries of frightened humans and enjoying the warm metallic taste of their blood. It was only when she was nine years old that Rebecca was allowed to leave the shadows of her clan’s underground home and see the outside world. Nine was a holy number, one that signified the transformation from childhood to adolescence, from adolescence to adulthood. Nine was the number of families belonging to the Seraphine clan, the number of holy first fathers, and the number of apostles in the choir of illumination. The importance of the number had been ingrained into her habits, even now as she sang in the darkness. Rebecca sang the melody nine times before pausing for nine seconds, then repeated it over again.
It wasn’t something Rebecca did knowingly, in fact it had been a chore to ween herself off the habit. But during stressful times, like these, she subconsciously sank back into it. If it wasn’t singing it would be something else like tapping her feet nine times, or twirling a strand of hair in similar increments. Rebecca still wore her blouse, and her large hat was laying in the center of the room. One of the previous guards had given her a jacket to handle the cold, but the temperature did not bother her. The shadows sustained her.
“Row row ro-“ The Sanguine groaned as if under duress which made her pause mid melody. Rebecca broke from her subconscious meditation and studied her surroundings again. She had already counted the number of cracks in the floor and tried to measure the patina of rust coating the iron bars. No one had been down here in a long time, or at least maintained it anytime recently. The cell block was deep in the stomach of the ship, far from the guests and crew. A guard had been stationed to watch over her for a time, but for the moment there was no one.
She was getting hungry, and her throat was parched. Rebecca leaned her back against the cold walls and sighed before continuing, “Your boat gently down the stream, merely merely merely merely life is but a dream.”
Someone tapped against the steel bars in front of her before she could start the lullaby over again. Light hands barely caused a vibration in the thick iron, which was testimony to its forgers craftsmanship. A new voice, a sweet and more beautiful one compared to her own pierced the darkness. “Hey,” Maggie sounded both surprised and relieved.
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Even in the darkness Rebecca could see her friend clearly, more clearly in fact than during the day. Rebecca knew it alarmed her friend that she could perceive so much in the night. In the shadows Rebecca could tell her long time partner in crime was brimming with anxiety, Maggie’s overprotecting nature had gotten the better of her. And even in the gloom Rebecca could make out Maggie’s dark tank top and thin shorts, her messy hair and loose sandals, and the smell of alcohol on her breath (her sense of smell was always the sharpest). Rebecca smiled and straightened herself against the wall, “Heya, I’m glad you came to visit,” She paused before continuing, “I hope I didn’t hurt the poor girl.”
“You just scared the crap out of her,” Maggie hugged onto the bars, leaning against them. “You really need some self control Reby?”
Rebecca chuckled to herself and shrugged, “You wouldn’t be able to resist it if you got a taste of her. She’s so rich and vibrant, and makes you feel so alive! It’s been a long time since I’ve tasted such a healthy morsel.”
Referring to a living human being as a morsel wasn’t something Rebecca liked to do, but she knew Maggie would find it humorous. She was right, and Maggie couldn’t help but return a giggle. “Your incorrigible, you know that?”
Rebecca didn’t need to be reminded. She slumped forward and honestly wondered if she could resist the smell of that human again. There was something about her blood that was different, something exotic? Never before had she felt so empowered after a single small sample of human essence. Rebecca could remember how easy it was to bend the shadow’s around her, to utilize her natural talents as a vampire with no effort. Rose’s blood held so much power, it was almost frightening…
The next time she saw her, Rebecca knew she would have to summon all her strength to hold herself back. She wondered how long she could resist the monster inside her soul? The thought was poison, a poison that stoked long cold memories and fears. Rebecca instantly recoiled at one particular memory…of something her father once said, something she wanted to banish forever. Lifting her head, Rebecca looked into her friends wandering eyes and began asking the question she worked so hard to avoid most of her life, “A wise man once said we are afraid of what we want most, do you know what I’m truly afraid of Maggie?”
Maggie raised an eyebrow, she wasn’t sure how to respond.
Sensing her friends hesitation, Rebecca got onto her feet and walked over to the iron bars. Once she was within arms reach Rebecca answered her own question, “becoming a monster…” Silence laid as thick as the darkness itself, surrounding them as she spoke.
“Reby,” Maggie put her head through the bars, and let it rest against Rebecca’s, “You’re not a monster.”
“But doesn’t that mean I somehow want to be?” Rebecca responded frightfully, “Being around that human just makes my skin crawl, she makes my nose itch! When I saw those drops of crimson spilling from her mouth, it was like I was back home again…and I couldn’t help but miss it.”
“Its natural to miss your family, to miss being home, but Reby you know what happened. You know you had to get away. They gave you a choice, to become something you didn’t want to be…or leave. You being afraid of becoming something you’re not isn’t a sign of regret, its a sign that you have something most humans don’t have.” Maggie was doing her best to reach out and comfort her.
“And what’s that?” Rebecca asked.
“Morality? A conscious? I don’t know…decency?”
Rebecca laughed at that, “You really hate humans don’t you.”
“Every damn one of them,” Maggie collected herself and patted Rebecca on the head before studying the bars, “So are you ready to get out of here? Or are you really fine with just sitting here all by yourself?”
Rebecca rubbed a small tear from her cheek before reaching out. “I still have a little strength left, I swear Rosy’s blood is special.”
Maggie took a step back, concern etched her face. “She mentioned you were able to bend shadows. Doesn’t that take a liter or two? I’ve never tried it…I’ve never felt that kind of power before.”
“I told you, there’s something special about her. I can’t put my finger on it…but I swear there’s something different about that little Rose.” Rebecca gripped the cold iron bars and with one swift yank pulled them apart. She was able to make just enough room for her to pass through, and then stepped out of the dark cell. Freed from its confines, Rebecca noticed the empty chair next to the bars. The guard had been missing for a while, she couldn’t help but wonder what happened to him. “Please don’t tell me you hurt the guard or something?”
Maggie embraced her the moment she walked through then answered, “I found the next guard in the shift schedule, then got him super drunk upstairs before he could come down. So nothing bad.”
“Aw I want to get super drunk too,” Rebecca didn’t mean to sound sarcastic, she really did want to lose all sobriety as soon as possible.
“I thought you might,” Maggie withdrew a large clear bottle of vodka from the satchel she carried. The crystal clear bottle was shaped like a rather voluptuous woman, almost like it was meant to be a small vase rather than for spirits. Whether or not the alcohol was just as refined as its elaborate vessel remained to be seen. “I swiped it from the main gallery, they’re handing these out like candy. They’re really trying hard to keep everyone calm right now.”
Rebecca took hold of the bottle, its cork was stiff and tightly sealed. But despite this she popped it off with ease. The smell of its contents stung her nostrils but Rebecca couldn’t complain as she took a long and passionate swig. It wasn’t very good, in fact it tasted like it was made to clean kitchen stoves rather than consumption. Once she sucked down the poison Rebecca couldn’t help but cough in duress, “Jesus, thats harsh!”
“What?” Maggie swiped the bottle and took a sip. Within seconds she was spitting it out and choking loudly. Rebecca couldn’t help but laugh seeing her friend struggle to enjoy the spirits of the lusty lady shaped vodka bottle. Maggie tried tasting another small sip, and then another, before she could finally swallow a large enough dose to get a strained buzz. “This is the worst vodka I’ve ever had.”
“Definitely need a chaser, lets get out of here and find one…” Rebecca’s thoughts drifted, “You don’t think?”
“No!” Maggie lightly tapped the top of Rebecca’s head in frustration, “Rose’s blood cannot be a chaser!”
Rebecca bit her lip in disappointment, “If you say so, then where shall we go?”
“Lets just get back to our cabin, I think I left some juice in the fridge. Theres a full moon tonight, I can’t wait to get out of this darkness.”
Rebecca returned a sly smile, “Its really not so bad.”
As the pair continued through the cold hallways and made their way towards the upper decks, Rebecca couldn’t help stop herself from humming the lullaby silently to herself. By the time they made their way to the cabin, all power had ceased.
The core engine of the proud ship had finally died, and like a fading heartbeat, it’s death throes echoed through every corridor and room of the ship in sporadic energy bursts. Lights glowed then dimmed, ever brighter then ever duller. The sounds of power fluctuations and machine failure cascaded into every secondary system. And then the last heartbeat of power groaned to a halt, the dimming lights went out. This time they didn’t turn back on, and warning lumens didn’t take their place. Instead all was silent, and the HMS Sanguine became lost at sea. A single shadow waited patiently for this silence was conquer every single hallway and corridor, it was eager to finally begin the hunt.