The Stranded Part 1
The storm tore at the small vessel and its crew as they scrambled about the treacherous deck, slick from rain and ocean spray. Thunder boomed and lightning danced across the ominous, brooding sky. Towering waves crashed into the ship’s hull, threatening to wash the foolish overboard. The shrieking gales buffeted the sails with such ferocity it amazed me they remained intact as I and the other scholars watched the storm’s relentless onslaught from the safety of the cabin.
We had offered to help where we could, but the vessel’s captain had refused, claiming we would either die or get one of his men killed in a storm of this magnitude. To be honest, I believe not one scholar wished to be out there in those harsh conditions and our offer was merely a gesture of good faith.
A scream tore through the howling winds and I glimpsed a crew member’s last moments before the ocean claimed him. I could not help but wonder if the storm was merely a freak of nature or the providence of the Gods. Do they know what I and the others sought here in uncharted waters? I am not a man of faith, but perhaps it is situations such as these that test one’s resolve. It was too late for us to turn back. We had come too far. To return empty-handed would be too great a humiliation. Our careers in the Society would be over.
For me, there was something more. Ever since I had discovered the idol, I could feel a tugging at the back of my mind. Something called to me. Whispered to me while I slept. I could feel us drawing closer to it by the day.
Suddenly the ship lurched as if it had run aground. I thought it absurd, but being a curious scholar, I braved the storm to see what had caused such a disturbance. As I fought my way onto the deck against the howling gales and stinging rain, I witnessed something truly horrific.
An enormous tentacle had broken the surface of the roiling ocean and was flailing about. Chaos had broken loose upon the deck. The captain shouted orders to fend off the gargantuan appendage. His crew, however, were in two minds about it. Some men followed his command, grabbing anything they could weaponise and were trying to keep the writhing tentacle at bay while the others sat huddled close together, gibbering prayers and blasphemies alike.
I could scarcely believe what I saw, and my mind reeled as I attempted to picture what foul abomination lay beneath the surface. The blood drained from my face as a second tentacle erupted from the churning waters, followed by a third. Soon several tentacles surrounded the vessel, and even the captain looked at the towering appendages with little hope of victory, let alone escape.
We’re doomed! I thought as the tentacles bombarded the ship with heavy blows. Wood cracked and splintered, the rigging snapped, and the sails tore as the creature lashed at the ship.
“Abandon ship!” the captain said, and those still willing and able scurried for the rowboats or dived like rats overboard.
I darted back inside to warn the other scholars of the peril we faced. Together, we plummeted back into the madness that had descended upon the ship. We hurried towards a rowboat, doing our best to avoid the thrashing tentacles. Unfortunately, by the time we reached the rowboat, the monstrous creature had claimed the lives of two scholars. The rest of us tumbled into the rowboat and lowered it to the water like men possessed.
Once on the water, we somehow navigated a course between the wall of thrashing tentacles and floating debris, picking up floundering stragglers as we went. I glanced back only to witness the ship torn asunder, with the captain still manning his post. His bravery in the face of such a horrifying creature touched my heart, and I saluted the man as the tentacles dragged him and his vessel beneath the waves. Deep down, I hoped that the man’s sacrifice was enough to satiate the creature from the depths.
Despite the creature’s disinterest in the small rowboat, we had not escaped death’s clutches just yet. The storm still raged around us and the waves batted the rowboat about like a cat toying with a mouse. We clung to the rowboat’s sides for dear life, for to be cast overboard was to be claimed by the ocean herself. The storm went on for hours and I found it hard to believe I had strength enough to keep my perch while fatigue gnawed at my body and the night’s cold chilled me to the bone.
By morning, the storm had subsided, and those who had survived the harrowing events of the previous day looked at the rising sun in awe and admiration. Then another miracle blessed us, for just after the sun had broken the horizon in all its glory, washing us in warm and comforting rays, one crewman who we had fished out of the water bolted upright from his slumped and weary-eyed position.
He raised a shaky hand and pointed at a sliver of something in the distance.
“Land ho!”
Everyone else swivelled around to gaze in the direction he pointed. Tears of joy and relief ran down my cheeks. I was not alone in my jubilation as other survivors whooped and cried out to the Gods for being merciful. We continued our revelling as the rowboat drew closer to the ever-growing mass. Then I felt the tugging deep within me growing stronger with each passing minute. By some miracle, the island before us was what I had been seeking. Little did I know that the previous day’s horrors were merely a speck compared to what we would uncover on that hellish island.
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