Deep Sea Embers

Age had undeniably caught up with him. The undeniable proof lay in his struggle to complete a task as seemingly simple as climbing a rope ladder, an act that now required a period of rest and recovery. His mind drifted back to his youth, a time when…

His introspective reverie was cut short by the sound of footsteps resonating behind him. Shaking off the unwelcome onslaught of nostalgia, Lawrence shifted his focus to Anomaly 077, a peculiar entity that had managed to scale the intimidating exterior of the Black Oak. The figure, more akin to a mummified corpse than a man, lingered near the edge of the deck, displaying an unexpected level of compliance.

Despite its daunting appearance, this creature, formerly a man, had shown a remarkable willingness to cooperate throughout their journey. Lawrence found it strange to see such a fearsome anomaly, so high-level in its destructive potential, acting with such apparent obedience. However, given the unsettling reality that this dreadful mummy was his only ally in this exploratory endeavor, Lawrence put his reservations aside and adopted an air of stern authority.

“Is the boat secure?” he demanded, treating the creature as though it were an indispensable member of his trusted crew.

“Secured,” came the mummy’s response, its voice a deep, gravelly rumble. The figure’s eyes, hollow and sunken, flickered around the vacant ship before it spoke again, its words marked by a touch of hesitation. “It seems there’s no one else on board, Captain.”

“I’m not blind,” snapped Lawrence, his tone laced with sarcasm, as he cast his own scrutinizing gaze around the deck.

The atmosphere aboard the Black Oak was thick with a peculiar fog, which seemed to drape the ship in a gloomy shroud. The fog didn’t appear to be growing denser, but it certainly complicated efforts to take in the full details of the ship. Peering through the mist, Lawrence strained to make out the ship’s layout, which appeared uncannily similar to his own vessel, the White Oak. The resemblance was striking, with roughly seventy to eighty percent similarity. However, unlike his well-maintained ship, the Black Oak exhibited signs of severe neglect – patches of paint flaked off the railings, the deck planks were twisted and warped, and stains that looked eerily like rust speckled the ship’s structure.

In the absence of the spooky fog, Lawrence could have easily mistaken the Black Oak for a long-abandoned version of his own ship, the White Oak. It was as though he had stepped into an alternate reality where his beloved vessel had been left to drift aimlessly, forgotten, and succumbing slowly to the relentless assault of time and weather.

Indeed, the mummy’s observations were spot-on; there was no other living soul on this ship. It was completely devoid of life, adding to the eerie silence that enveloped them.

“But if there’s no one else here, then who dropped down the rope ladder?” Anomaly 077 broke the silence, voicing his perplexity. “And when you signaled this ship, someone, or something, responded with a light. Who was behind that?”

Lawrence turned to regard the ‘Sailor’, a hint of admiration creeping into his expression. “For an ‘anomaly’, your thought process is surprisingly logical,” he mused aloud. “But isn’t it a bit odd to apply such ‘logic’ to a ghost ship?”

The creature, this Anomaly 077, merely responded with a nonchalant shrug, lapsing into an unsettling silence.

But Lawrence wasn’t content with allowing the mummy to wallow in his silence. He hadn’t brought Anomaly 077 all the way to the Black Oak just to avoid the potential risk of leaving him aboard the White Oak. He had intentions to harness this anomaly’s unique abilities.

“Can you exercise your abilities on this ship?” Lawrence questioned, his gaze boring into the creature, striving to decipher the enigma before him. “Can you influence this ship?”

“Do you want me to ‘usurp’ it?” Anomaly 077 responded, his mummified features revealing a flicker of surprise.

“No, I don’t expect you to ‘usurp’ it,” Lawrence corrected him firmly, “But I want you to gauge if your abilities can operate effectively here. Can you sense the current state of this ship?”

Anomaly 077, also known as the Sailor, possessed a peculiar power. He had the ability to control, and in some circumstances, usurp anything that fell under the classification of a “ship”. This made him a unique entity, granting him an unparalleled understanding and influence over “ships” that far exceeded the comprehension of a normal human. Could it be that the Black Oak would reveal some unusual characteristics under the Sailor’s scrutiny?

Lawrence was eager to exploit Anomaly 077’s abilities to unravel the mystery of the Black Oak.

Obediently, the mummy complied with Lawrence’s command. He stood there on the weather-beaten deck, his arms stretched out, his eyes half-closed as if he was trying to read the wind direction in the midst of the enveloping fog. Meanwhile, Lawrence’s gaze roved over the array of familiar items strewn about the ship’s deck.

The Black Oak… he was finally aboard the vessel that had haunted his dreams for years. Despite the countless times he had revisited the past incidents on this ship in his dreams, the memories remained as sharp and as vivid as ever, refusing to fade with time. His life had been shaped by numerous voyages, spurred by an unwavering determination to locate this ship. But now, standing on its deck, he was assaulted by a flood of uncertainties – questioning his judgement, doubting his perceptions, and even pondering over the very existence of this ship.

The sudden appearance of the Black Oak was profoundly strange and filled with suspicion. Its current state was anything but ordinary. Despite a part of him emotionally resisting the thought, logic suggested that this might not be the Black Oak he had been relentlessly searching for.

Perhaps it was merely a “manifestation” created by some erratic supernatural anomaly that was beyond his control.

His mind swirled with confusion and uncertainty until the look of utter bewilderment reflected in the Sailor’s wide eyes brought him back to reality.

“What’s the situation?” Lawrence asked without delay.

“I… I don’t know how to put it…” the Sailor stammered, his gaze fixated on the deck beneath his feet, a visible display of confusion creasing his brow. “Captain, I…I can’t feel the existence of this ship…”

“What do you mean you can’t sense the ship’s existence?” Lawrence exclaimed in disbelief, his eyes mirroring his shock. He had contemplated the possibility that the Sailor’s abilities might fall short against this peculiar ghost ship, but he hadn’t predicted such an odd disclosure. “Then where on earth are we standing?”

“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t give a proper explanation…” The Sailor seemed somewhat startled by Lawrence’s reaction but stood his ground, “We are indeed standing here. This place definitely exists, but in my perception, it doesn’t… or at least, it isn’t here…”

Puzzlement etched itself across Lawrence’s face. He was certain that the mummy wasn’t attempting to fool him – his words were a genuine reflection of his perception. But this knowledge did little to alleviate Lawrence’s disarray.

After an internal deliberation, he took a deep breath, lifted his lantern high, and directed his gaze towards a specific point at the far end of the deck.

The gentle, golden glow from the lantern trembled amidst the fog, seemingly mapping out an invisible path ahead.

“Captain, where are we going?” The Sailor asked.

“To the bridge,” Lawrence replied calmly, “The captain should be on the bridge.”

As his statement hung in the cool, dense air, he proceeded along the illuminated path. The Sailor paused momentarily before hastening to catch up, his stride slightly awkward due to an evident limp. A hint of curiosity threaded his voice as he inquired, “You mean… the captain of this ship? Are you familiar with the captain of the Black Oak?”

Lawrence’s stride faltered momentarily before he continued his trek, “Yes, I know her quite well.”

The Sailor simply nodded in acknowledgment, slipping back into a respectful silence.

Within moments, Lawrence found himself standing before the entrance to the ship’s bridge.

A red metal door, slightly ajar, loomed before him as if silently inviting him to step inside.

“You open the door.”

With the lantern securely held in one hand, Lawrence deftly drew a revolver from his waistband with his other hand, signaling for the mummy at his side to make a move.

“Alright,” the mummy, obediently heaving a sigh of resignation, stepped forward. He gripped the door handle and, without any exertion, pushed the door open.

Looking inside, Lawrence discovered an abandoned bridge. It was utterly devoid of any signs of human presence. A thin layer of fog whimsically danced around the chairs and navigation equipment. At the front of the bridge, the unmanned ship’s wheel gently rocked back and forth as if self-steering its course.

“There’s no one here either,” the mummy stated, a hint of disappointment seeping into his voice.

“I can see that,” Lawrence responded, his tone touched with dry sarcasm as he stepped into the bridge.

Holding up his lantern, he cast out the creeping shadows that sought refuge in the corners. His eyes rapidly swept over the weather-beaten equipment and vacant seats, finally settling on the ship’s helm.

The captain should have been here.

But there was no trace of the captain.

Lawrence allowed himself a moment of silent introspection, releasing a sigh heavy with both disappointment and a strange sense of relief. “Ah, as expected, you’re not here.”

“No, I’m here.” A voice, chillingly soft and unmistakably feminine, echoed from the side.

Taken by surprise, Lawrence felt a shiver creep down his spine. The uncanny green flame that constantly clung to his body, defying any attempts at extinguishment, surged several inches higher. In the very next second, he spun around, his gaze instantly drawn to the source of the voice.

A woman stood there, seemingly in her prime, donned in a captain’s uniform. Her waves of hair cascaded over her shoulders, her arms were crossed over her chest, and her face, while maintaining a composed expression, hinted at a deep-seated resignation.

“Ah, a woman has materialized,” Anomaly 077 exclaimed in surprise, and then, quickly registering the gravity of the situation, shot a quick, questioning glance at Lawrence, “Captain, should I remain silent?”

Lawrence shot the mummy a brief glare: “Yes, stay silent.”

“Understood, captain.”

Though it was poorly timed, Anomaly 077’s interruption did serve to diffuse some of the palpable tension that hung heavily in the air. Lawrence capitalized on this brief respite to regain his composure, his mind buzzing as he pondered on how to break the ice. What should he say first?

In the past, he had engaged in countless conversations with “Martha”. They had shared many imaginary years together in his illusions. Yet, in this crucial moment, Lawrence found himself at a loss for words. He couldn’t converse with Martha as effortlessly as he had in his dreams.

This momentary hesitation led him to a jarring realization.

The Martha standing before him now was a unique “entity”, existing completely outside the confines of his subconscious mind!