Trigger warning:
This story contains violent scenes and graphic descriptions. If you are perturbed by any sensitive topics then I advise you to read something else, however, if you are not perturbed by these themes then you may continue forth.
~Arachnophobia~
When (Name) L/n had woken up, it was not the blaring of an alarm clock that caused her rise, but the gentle rocking of the boat and the cool waves beneath her. The seas were a sweet mistress, singing her song like a lullaby as night blanketed the crew under a dark, starless sky. With little light upon the boat and the moon as her only refuge, (Name) couldn't help but go out on the deck, bored out of her wits. The ocean was a vast expanse that forgave nothing, so unlike the decorated streets of the busy, urban city. A sting pulled at her gut, a feeling that she had grown used to in the past week. Likely, it was homesickness, for only someone foolhardy would decide to go on a journey such as this. Right, a fool...Just like her father.
Leaning over the edge and staring out into the cold waters, one couldn't help but feel that little itching nerve to jump. It was an intrusive thought, one followed by questions that plagued the woman's psyche as she stared into its black depths. If she jumped, would anyone even notice that she had disappeared? Before the crew could send out the buoy, she'd likely have already sunk to the bottom, waiting for time to edge her soul to the next plain. She didn't jump, thankfully, for the thoughts were only that: intrusive. Shocking her for a second, a hand laid itself atop her shoulder, blowing away those little bits of memory and consciousness with the light, sea breeze.
(Name) turned, glimpsing the sight of the greying man with the round glasses. His eyes crinkled, revealing a face that, despite getting on in its years, still seemed to retain some of the beauty of its youth. Silver locks intermingled wistfully with brown, making the brunette look even more eccentric than he'd been before the journey. It was his smile that disarmed most people, including his daughter. (Name) had seen its magic work one too many times on the tight necked executives, cold doctors and unwitting strangers who watched him in the news, yet, despite all this, she could not bring up the will to smile herself.
"How are you doing my little bug?" Isaac entreated, flashing those pearly white teeth of his.
"I'm fine."
An awkward pause rang between the two of them, inciting the man to clear his throat before speaking once more.
"It's a nice night. The sea's as beautiful as ever, wouldn't you say? I'm sure your mother would've loved to be here with us if she could."
Straight to the point as always, Isaac was never one to dawdle when it came to his words. He was a man of science after all, not some spokesman, though, he was also a father. Pulling her close, Isaac hugged the woman, his grey eyes looking hopefully into her own as she stared blankly into the dark, wading waters.
"This," He paused, clearing his throat before continuing, "This is a new beginning for the both of us! What a magnificent journey it'll be! Just you and me, the crew and the wide-open world. Doesn't the prospect of finding a new and uncharted land make you excited?" he beseeched her, though she said nothing. "Come now (Name)! I know you're just as curious as I am. Just imagine what your mother would have thought."
Noting his words, (Name) instantly pulled away from him, a solemn pit growing within her stomach.
"(Name)?"
"Stop. Just...stop it, Isaac." She spoke in a low, venomous tone. "Look, I get why you want me out here, but this is it for me. New lands, animals, species, they're your obsession. Study them if you want, but I want no part of it. I'll do what needs to be done, but don't expect anything more, okay?" (Name) asked, not mincing her words as the older man flinched in response.
Isaac faltered. For a split second, he opened his mouth as if looking to say something more but stopped altogether. Without so much as another word, Isaac left, leaving the woman all by herself, at peace once more except for the anxious beating of her heart.
A low whistle sounded across the deck, "You sure were harsh, weren't you? I don't think he'll be recovering from that one for a while." A feminine voice mused, unperturbed as she looked back to the forlorn old man from across the deck.
Unable to stop herself, (Name) gave the woman a side glance. Penelope McAllister was probably the only one who could get away with joking about Isaac like that. From a young age she'd been a friend of hers and ever since the death of Isaac's wife a maternal figure as well. Not too long ago she had dyed her hair this bright red color that shined like blood, matching the feline eyes which studied (Name) even now. Likely, Penelope had just woken up given her sleepy voice as well as the casual outfit she wore. Despite the teasing earlier, (Name) relaxed. Penelope was quite the comforting figure to be around, after all. Without her, she didn't know what she would have done. Letting out a huff of frustration, (Name) replied to the woman's remark in a similarly haughty manner.
"And like you would have done any different?"
"No, I suppose not." Penelope struck up her lighter, lighting the cigarette that lie dormant in her mouth. "You know (Name), Isaac may be right. This could be a good chance for you to get over that little "problem" of yours."
(Name) shuddered at the thought of it.
"Please, don't remind me of those things..."
"Come on (Name). If you keep treating them like some inter-dimensional horrors, you'll never get past it. They're just spiders after all. Worst they'll do is stare at you from the corner of your shower like some little pervert."
Wringing her fingers, (Name) sighed as she looked down and away from Penelope.
"Yeah..." She muttered. "Just spiders..."
Penelope of all people should have known why she'd been struggling to get over this fear. The thought, mention, feel, and sight of the damned things all terrified (Name). At first, it had been something small. Simply put, everyone had a small fear of them from what (Name) had seen; however, her condition only worsened as the years went by. For years, because of this fear, she could barely even work as even the mere thought of encountering the creatures caused a massive spike of anxiety to well within her, rendering the poor woman immobile. No matter how many therapists her father paid for, all (Name) got in return were more mixed results. It was quite the lucky deal that Isaac was rich as sin. After all, anything to mend a broken relationship, right? Why not use the resource in front of you if you had it?
It had been at the beginning of the year that he'd dropped by unannounced to her apartment. Another session had come and gone and (Name) had been drowning her defeat in rewatches in one of the old shows she enjoyed. She'd nearly not wanted to let him in, but there were others with him and (Name) had wondered if they would take the slight a little more harshly. Besides, she didn't want there to be a story out there about her and her father's strained relationship. From there, the opportunity was laid out in front of her and here she was, on a boat, farther out to sea than she'd ever been before. She'd mulled over the options with her therapist for weeks and most had told her that it would be in her best interest to go. Perhaps this was some kind of last-ditch effort on their part. Noticing the woman's suddenly gloomier countenance, Penelope raised an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.
"So, what do you think so far? Open waters, new people, grand adventure. Isn't it exciting?"
"I suppose." (Name) silently answered.
Penelope sighed, "Alright miss Wallflower. As enthusiastic as ever it seems. Don't worry, I'm not too sure about this journey either." Penelope shot up, looking around for a split second before leaning into a whisper, "I'm sure your father didn't gather this team under the most legal of circumstances." She mused, taking another puff from her cigarette.
If only slightly, (Name) felt her mouth twitched upward into a smile. This was another reason why she enjoyed the red headed woman's company.
In a joking tone, she indulged her, "You're probably right. I don't see his associates approving of this journey at all; besides, that chestnut haired dude was staring at your ass all day."
That elicited a snort from her, "Yeah, though I can't blame him." She said with a wink. "That brunette chick would not stop clinging to your dad as well. The dude just turned fifty...I can't believe people like that still exist. It's gotta be for the money."
Well, it wasn't the first nor likely the last time someone would do such a thing to Mister Campton, though, (Name) couldn't really find herself worrying about it too much. If she wanted to manipulate anyone, then she picked the wrong target. (Name)'s mother still had a firm grip on that old man's heart. Lost in thought, (Name)'s gaze drifted back to the dark sea. The waves pushed and pulled, propelling themselves up against the wood in a hypnotic manner. She was sure if she could focus...she could see something beneath those waves.
A trick of the light perhaps? Or her mind playing tricks on her even. No...this had to be something more, for as the next few seconds passed, whatever had flickered beneath the water, vanished in an instant. Parting her lips slightly, (Name) was about to say something when an odd sight caught her eye. There, standing at the edge of the ship, was Sena, another member of the crew.
The dark, hazy night wrapped around the woman's body fiercely, turning her into a phantom atop the wood. From side to side she swayed, her movements odd and jittery as she shook and looked out beyond the sea. Within the inky black, (Name) was sure she could almost make out her face, mouth agape and lips scrunched up in what looked like a grimace. A bewildered glance was exchanged between Penelope who, in her shock, seemed just as confused as (Name) was. Whatever the situation was, someone needed to diffuse it. Cautiously, she took a step forward, only now beginning to make out the gibberish that spilled forth from the old woman's lips.
"No..." she began, words breathy as she held her arms out to the wind. "I can'.... Breath" She was heaving now, eyes bulging at the sightless depths, "...li...he...God...hel.... we're going to..."
Penelope was the first one to act, cowardice taking a hold of (Name)'s tongue as she stepped back from the situation. She approached carefully, taking certain steps to not provoke the old woman. Despite this, a single floorboard creaked underfoot, causing Sena to turn her attention to the two. A profound silence laid itself between the three, so tense that (Name) became painfully aware of the rapid beating within her chest. Penelope was the first to break it.
"Sena, what are you doing? Come back down before you fall in, alright?" She implored, holding her arms out to help her get back down.
It took but a second for her to be thrown back, so quick that not even (Name) could have stopped it. Sena reached out, grabbing the red head's arm before flinging her back with a strength that seemed almost preternatural. Falling upon her posterior, Penelope cried out as she scraped her elbow against the wooden floor of the ship. As (Name) ran to come to the woman's aid, Sena hunched down, crawling from the edge of the ship before slowly slinking back into the shadows. Her feet landed upon solid ground, the dull thud echoing as the ship rocked forward, then backwards, again and again as if it were some great pendulum. All (Name) could focus upon was the swinging, the rhythm that kept her grounded as Sena snuck ever closer behind her.
Unabated by the shackles of mercy, the old woman wasted no time as she bashed a fist into Penelope's temple, swiftly knocking her unconscious for the foreseeable future. Blood streamed down her face, the skin breaking as if the mere touch of the old woman was enough to harm her. (Name) felt sick. This blood.... like a blooming flower spread from head to deck, stretching its roots in vast, hungry fashion. She didn't know what to do. (Name) screamed. Surely someone had to hear the racket she was making and come to her aid, yet no one had come. Time had slowed to a near halt for the three, an eternity in hell that with each passing moment caused the woman even more agony than the last. This sentiment became echoed as soon as Sena grabbed (Name)'s attention.
"Wh-What the hell?" (Name) sputtered, her voice quiet, disbelieving in what lay before her.
Her face...it looked inhuman. Not moments before she'd seen the woman, plain and unassuming if a bit seasick, but now, what looked upon her could be described as anything but. Black gums held yellowed teeth, rotting out of place. The baggy skin which had once sagged against her skull now had been pulled taut, shaping the skeleton underneath in a death-like visage. With a grotesque, stretched out grin, Sena fixed (Name) in place, holding her with the same hellish strength she had used to knock Penelope out.
"Sena- "(Name) cried out, unable to keep herself from the tears which threatened to spill down her cheeks.
"Look into my eyes, little one..."
When Sena spoke, it was not with the voice of an old woman; it was too smooth, deep, and impossibly soft, like velvet. It was the kind of voice one would use to lure a lover into bed. Instead of a crone's rasp, there escaped the lilting voice of a man. (Name) refused to look into her eyes. If she did, her panic would surely be known to whatever this thing was. In the wake of fear, satisfaction was the only thing she refused to give.
Ragged breaths hurried from Sena's form, "Little thing. Open your eyes. Look at me. Look at me." They hummed, dirty, long fingernails already yanking her head this way and that.
It was a devil's whisper that voice, the sweet promise of sin. (Name) closed her eyes, choosing not to give into the whims of the thing before her. If she faltered, what would become of her or Penelope? Why had no one come at this point?
The voice hissed, frustration evident with (Name)'s refusal, "Come on you bitch! Look at me! Look at me before I peel those eyelids from your skull!"
Just as she felt the woman's cold, bony fingers atop her skin, Isaac's shouts echoed on the deck. Relief washed over (Name)'s skin, her gaze turning to her fathers and the crew member's he'd brought with him. A snarl ripped through Sena as she haphazardly threw her to the ground. Already (Name) was trying to explain the situation.
"Penny.... Penny needs help." She croaked trying to lift her friend up, though, no one was able to pay attention as they saw the horror which lay before them. Sena was already climbing the deck once more, her gaze turned backward at the crowd as her body twitched and jolted every which way. That voice, as lovely and sadistic as it had been before, came back much calmer than it had been before. With an almost brotherly tone, nothing seemed to fit the old woman at all.
"You're all going to die." It affirmed, pointing down at the crew. "There's no avoiding it. If not by I, then by something else. I'm going to wear your skin, and you...you will be ripped apart." A laugh like a thousand voices rang through the ears of many, Sena slowly raising her arms only to fall off the ship entirely.
People shouted in fear, both pleas not to jump and horror at what they had just witnessed, but, in the end, it all fell upon deaf ears. Sena stretched back, falling into the calm waters below. A few jumped to catch her, others praying to not be taken as well, though, before she completely fell, (Name) had managed to catch of glimpse of her eyes. They'd held a strange yellow glint that pinned her to place. In a single glance, (Name) was transported to a place out of time and space. It flooded her head, burning its visage into her brain. She lifted her hands, holding her head as a splitting migraine tore through it before finally, she vomited upon the deck. Isaac immediately came to her aid, fully ignoring Penelope as he chose to take care of his daughter. The ship's medical aid, as well as a few others, chose to pick up Penelope, carrying her off to the infirmary to check on her condition. Whilst she was getting aid, the rest of the crew members checked the waters to see if Sena was alive down there, though the chance of that was very slim. In the aftermath, Isaac's whispers did little to stave off the horror building within (Name).
"Oh god, (Name), I am so sorry this happened to you. Please, please be okay. She's gone. She won't hurt you ever again. (Name), please..." Isaac cried, cradling his daughter's form between his arms, rocking her as if she were a child once more.
A pounding headache welled up within the woman's temples. Still in a frenzy, a few members of the crew were waiting for her to regain her bearings, though in this state, that would take quite some time. Everyone's psyches were shaken from having seen Sena jump. After a while, (Name) sat up on her own, recounting as clearly as she could what had happened, though, she left out the odder elements. What people needed was a plausible explanation, not the ghost tale that she had just witnessed. From the outside, (Name) kept a composed demeanor; however, on the inside, her heart sank within her chest, leaving the question: What the hell had just happened?
Isaac had examined all who had boarded months in advance. He knew everything from their ailments, family history, and even blood type. If someone asked him what those who'd boarded had eaten three nights ago, he could recount them all in alphabetical order. Sena was an old, frail woman, sheepish and horribly seasick most of the time. How could an old woman like her have such strength? Neither Penelope nor (Name) had noticed anything off with her hours prior. All she had done was look out into the waves, yet something had sparked that change within her. Had being out there been too much for her? Even so, what of her change of voice or what she'd seen before she jumped. That...(Name) did not know. For the first time since (Name) had come out to sea, she looked upon the ocean, fearing what horrors may truly be out there beneath the dark, all encompassing waves.
~*~
Blanketing itself between the passengers, a blatant unease made its home on board the ship. Whispers spread from one individual to another, carrying with it the shared want to head back home. Looking out onto it all, Isaac bit into his glove. One flimsy old hag wouldn't ruin what he'd been building up for years. Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand, signaling for his crew to quiet down as he spoke. All at once, the whispers stopped.
"Everyone, calm down!" He shouted, grabbing the team's attention, "All this arguing and discourse is getting us nowhere. I know Sena's death has impacted us all, but we're too close now to turn back. If we continue this course, we'll come back heroes in our fields. Don't let one disturbed individual ruin this for us! Instead let's go forth and complete the task at hand. Hopefully, these words can help you all find some sanctuary."
Isaac turned, finishing off his message before going to the medical barracks, inciting a wave of whispers to erupt once more. Unlike before however, instead of the discord that had plagued itself among the crew, these whispers were of a thoughtful purpose. Despite what had happened, nothing would stop them from getting their fame and esteem. A new world waits for no one after all. Of course, there was still one who remained unsure of the journey ahead. Even now, (Name) was still in shock from what had happened.
She could still remember how the soapy bring swallowed the old woman's body as she was cast into the sea. There'd been no time to scream, nor to struggle, just silence and yet, (Name) had a feeling that those waters would never be sated. Not with one life or with ten, but as many as it could take. Whether that included the crew was something she did not know nor did she wish to speculate upon. Even now, despite Sena being gone, that smooth, seductive voice still haunted her inner thoughts. She wanted to forget. Forgetting would be easy, though, forgetfulness wasn't an option anymore. By some miracle, (Name) missed her crappy, two-bedroom apartment. Even the awful therapists and the crowded, expensive city had her aching in longing. To be anywhere else in the world would have been a blessing, but not one she was privy to. She was here, on this ship, sailing to a place she didn't want to be. (Name) turned on her side, superficially comforting herself as much as she could.
"This is all crazy. Sena was just some unfortunate woman. Nothing more..." She rationalized, sinking deeper into her pillow.
At the time, this was all she could do. Accepting the flimsy explanation would at least keep her from driving herself nutty with anxiety.
"I just need to sleep it off. That's all." (Name) whispered before her eyes slowly fluttered shut.
.
.
.
.
.
Screams filled the boat with a chilling air as salty water splashed onto (Name)'s face. The ship rocked ominously, moving to the tune of the many crashes and holes within its walls and floors, plummeting the vessel downward into the sea as most of the passengers scrambled to keep afloat. It was a cacophony of madness, bodies clinging to bodies, flung wood and shrapnel haphazardly tossed across the deck, and the sickening sight of splattered crimson stains, vibrant in their pallor before they turned to a deep brown coating. The confusion of it all could make one's head spin like a top. Gingerly, (Name)'s grip tightened on one of the banisters as she tried to make her way outside. With each step she made, the woman felt as if she were floating in and out of time, her resolve wavering as ship began to sink faster and faster, slowly but surely devoured by the eager, awaiting maw of the waters below.
The world had tilted on its axis. One moment, life had been a certainty and the next, the grim miasma of death threatened to choke out every life upon the ship. Desperation filled (Name)'s heart as she searched, her hand outstretched to the lifeboats as injured passengers crowded together. It mattered not how this had happened or why when it was obvious not everyone was going to make it out alive. Nearly out of breath with claustrophobia gripping its icy claws around her throat, (Name) felt a surge of relief wash over her as her hands finally found the side of the lifeboat. This would be her haven. A chance at sanctuary amidst this watery hellscape, though, she would soon learn that not all things were so simple.
For one thing, as she worked to fling herself over the boat and into the waters, (Name) was stopped when an unexpected force flung her back. Dazed with the situation at hand, (Name) had expected that one of her peers had thrown her off, wishing to take the vessel for themselves, though, as she gazed back, she soon learned this was not the case. From up above, the sky burned all around her, dark and ominous. Cracks of lightning flashed one by one, exciting the plains of this Earthly hell. Everywhere the dead had line, strewn about in broken and odd fashions, their eyes stared back, milky white. Certainly, things had to have been some kind of nightmare or perhaps, a dream that would never end. It had to be the stress of the incident, her anxieties, something else other than the cruel reality laid before her, but, as an oh so familiar voice rang within her ears, the truth become all too clear. This was no nightmare.
"I warned you, didn't I?" The soft voice said as a rattling scream leaped from (Name)'s throat. "You...your people are nothing but little fish in a large ocean. You'll learn soon, but first," the voice stated before turning its prey around. "I want you to get a good, hard look."
And look she did. She looked and found herself staring into the grotesque golden eyes. Neither scream nor yell or even a call for help escaped her body. It was unceremonious, as sudden as the attack on the ship the thing flung (Name) over the edge without so much as another word. Cold and unforgiving, the sea swallowed her eagerly, welcoming the woman into her bowels just as she had done to Sena and the other crew members earlier. (Name) wasn't the only one. Alongside her own, other bodies crashed into the salty brine, unconscious, or perhaps even alive from what she could barely make out. Darkness had already begun settling in, choking out what little air floating withing the woman's lungs. She'd barely had any strength to try and claw her way to the surface. With only one option left, (Name) began to pray. She'd never been particularly religious, but at this point, she'd practically become a saint. She hoped, needed, any god to listen to her, or answer her prayers. Yet, somewhere dark, somewhere infinitely cold; one did.
(Edited by Skele: 6/21/23)
(Edited by Aranon: 06/11/18)