Rock the Boat

I'll leave this for you to read. Enjoy!

James and Lucille finished packing their suitcases the night before their wedding. It was to be a small affair; family and close friends containing their joy within a small church, quiet and happy from lavish start to glorious finish. James had the honeymoon planned to perfection, where nothing could conceivably go wrong. No, there was no chance, whether fortuitous or otherwise, that events could deviate from the plan James had formulated in his romanticized-to-the-point-of-dizziness head.

On the day of the celebratory ceremony, James’ bride-to-be, Lucille, displayed flawlessness from head to toe. Dressed in virgin white, her radiant beauty illuminated the church’s deepest cracks and tallest crevasses. James himself was as handsome as he could have hoped, yet even he paled in comparison to his love.

With no time to change from their wedding attire, they made no effort to hesitate in departing for their so perfectly planned honeymoon. Later that evening, the newlyweds were consummating their marriage on a luxury vessel, off the coast of Calais.

That night, events took a turn most sour.

Lucille wrapped a silky warm robe around her modesty, and headed out of their cabin for a mug of warm milk. As she made her way to the thankfully-open restaurant, a shadow of foreboding menace began to engulf her, mixing fear with fantasy, jealousy with joy, anger with admiration of her dear James. Murderous thoughts consumed her soul, colouring it dark with wrathful wonderings.

Then, the thoughts vanished into the starry night sky, and Lucille was taken aback by such surely fictional thoughts. But the dredges of doubt remained deep in the back of her mind. She shook her head and continued on her path to the restaurant.

In the cabin, James took notice of the absence of the beautiful figure he fell in love with. I wonder where Lucille has gone, he mused, before deciding that he too desired a beverage before entering his first night of matrimonial slumber.

As James treaded the same path as his beloved, he too began to experience the invasion of foreign thought. Just why had Lucille taken leave from their cabin, without so much as a reassurance of her faithfulness? The same shadow that had taken his spouse as temporary prey began to seep into his own mind. His face contorted into rage until, yet again, the thoughts disappeared, leaving behind a very perplexed man.

James spotted Lucille idly chatting to a woman by the bar, and smiled; his suspicions were indeed, as he suspected, unfounded. He walked with a saunter rejuvenated by the confirmation of his wife’s fidelity, and embraced Lucille from behind, meeting her lips with a passionate kiss. She returned it with equal longing, and, forgetting their desired drinks, hastened back to their cabin.

As they slept in each other’s arms that night, their dreams were plagued by dark desires, murderous missions involving one another. They woke the next morning with not just space between them, but thoughts of betrayal and duplicity. They dressed in a stony silence, and headed for breakfast down the same route they had taken the night before. As they walked, the sinister shadow struck, and the dearly beloveds turned to face each other, mutinous rage painted on their faces. Lucille shrieked and screamed accusations of disloyalty, James returned with roars and bellows of treachery, and neither relented until they both simultaneously, out of pure chance, chose to take a step towards the restaurant. The rage vanished, replaced by a curious quietness.

James looked at Lucille. Lucille looked at James. Lust clouded their eyes, and again they headed back to the cabin.

Again they dressed in a cold hush, but opted for a different route to the restaurant. The coldness vanished, and they said not a word about the row, until they heard cries of a similar nature to theirs coming from the hallway. Then, a woman stalked into the restaurant, seething with anger, followed by a man, presumably her spouse, also inflicted with the rage he had been a victim to, not thirty minutes ago.

This happened twice more, and each couple affected by the mysterious occurrence would be overcome with passion upon entering the kitchen, and depart immediately. James and Lucille made note of this, and decided henceforth to never take this seemingly bewitched path again, despite the rewards they seemed to have reaped; it was simply not worth the cost.

The events had not escaped the attention, however, of the Captain, who immediately saw fit to investigate the corridor. He was not to be heard from for many hours.

That evening there was a ball, for honeymooners and experienced couples alike. James had made sure to tell Lucille that, amongst the surprises in store for her, there was to be an event of magnificent proportions, thusly she had packed a beautiful, emerald green ball gown. James himself sported a dashing tuxedo with a matching green bowtie; together they looked resplendent.

They, and all the other couples, dined on a delicious banquet, sampled glasses of splendid wine and champagne, and danced in the light of the full moon until the late hours of the night. The stage was taken by the most accomplished of musicians until the Captain made his final appearance of the voyage. He walked onto the stage to ravenous applause from the ballroom, but something was wrong.

The Captain’s eyes were dark and emotionless, and he stood centre stage with the disposition of a man void of all life. As this was sensed by the men and women in the ballroom, a hush fell upon them all. The vessel suddenly rocked, and people were sent stumbling; except for those who had fallen victim to the mysterious shadow. James, Lucille, and the three other duos all bore resemblance to the Captain, standing up straight and gaunt, whilst others were shaken to death by the ship. After ten long minutes, the nine of them stood amongst corpses, and nine nooses descended from the ceiling and wrapped around the necks of each individual.

Then, something clicked in James’ head, and he clawed out of the noose before it tightened. He turned to face Lucille, who had also awakened. The seven others had regained sense, but their faces, like Lucille’s, were twisted with fear.

James leapt to Lucille, and began to claw at her own noose, but it tightened persistently.

He tried to scratch through the knot.

He tore at it.

He chewed it.

It would not yield.

On the brink of hopelessness, James bit down hard onto the knot, and it loosened! He gasped, and ripped it loose from his beloved’s throat. Lucille threw herself at her saviour, her hero, her love. But they were helpless in rescuing the others, who rose towards the ceiling, hanged. The pure horror stopped both of their hearts, and they finally joined the mass of victims of the shadow.