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Phantom Island-"Origins"-34

Story 9-"Reunion"-Part 2

By Author Jennifer TreecePublished about a year ago 4 min read

“It isn’t a trick.” Faith replied. “Hop on and hold on tight.”

“You want me to sit on top of the coffin?” Octavian asked.

“Actually, I recommend lying face down as flat as possible against it and holding on to the bars on either side.”

Octavian gritted his teeth at the burning of his forearm. The longer her messages were, the more pain it caused him. “How the hell is that going to get me to the island? Or even off of the ship?” He demanded.

“Sometimes you just gotta have a little Faith. HeHe.” She replied.

Octavian rolled his eyes at the pun then took a deep breath and settled down on top of the coffin.

“Now, hold on as tightly as you can. It’s about to get bumpy. Oh. And keep your face down.”

He growled and rolled his eyes again as he did as she said.

He was laying there, face down on some random beings coffin, feeling like an idiot, when the ship captain’s voice suddenly boomed over the speakers, “Brace for impact!”

Octavian gripped the handles of the coffin and braced his body for what Faith had called a “bumpy” ride. He knew from experience that a ship wrecking was far more than that.

He had never wanted to set foot on another ship for the rest of his days… however many there may be.

“Keep your wits.” Faith messaged. “You can reminisce after we wreck you.”

Octavian growled as he struggled to read the message and maintain his position. “Keep your wits…” he mocked.

Throughout the rest of the ship there was chaos as the ship neared its doom. He knew there would be people on deck, watching it all unfold, in panic.

Flashes of memory from the last time he’d been on a sinking ship clawed at his mind.

“At least we’re not being shot at.” He mumbled.

He was frustrated to realize how difficult it was to keep his mind from drifting. Surely this was part of the curse. Some self-defense mechanism on her part. Something to keep him disoriented and unfocused as he hunted her.

“That has to be it.” He decided. The closer he gets to her, the more he’s flooded with painful, distracting memories.

“Nice try.” He thought.

Suddenly, there were screams from the decks above him, and the sound of the ship making impact.

Octavian could tell they hadn’t hit head-on by the way the ship lurched to the side. The movement similar to when a car runs over something big with only one of its front tires; just a bit slower and more dramatic.

He listened to the scraping of whatever they’d hit down the side of the ship, as he and all the loose cargo slid to one side.

Large crates slid over to pin him and the coffin against the wall. He let out a growl when one of those crates smashed into his hand.

As he was fighting the urge to relinquish his hold on the coffin’s handle, the sound of crumpling metal screeched in his ears.

He looked over the crate that had his hand trapped and watched as the back corner of the cargo hold was ripped away.

The ocean rushed in, tossing everything around.

Octavian clung to the coffin, listening to all the noises around him.

Metal scrapping and being torn away. The rush of the ocean crashing through the opening, then rushing back out.

Everything tilted again as it had before, then abruptly tilted back the opposite way, sending him and the coffin barrelling toward the opening.

He looked up and around when the choppy ride began to settle.

The ship had turned and was cruising away with a gash all down the starboard side.

Octavian looked at the giant hole in the back corner of the ship, wondering how the back end wasn’t more sunken, to find all the loose crates had piled together to block out the ocean.

That was clearly the work of the witch.

Satisfied that the people on board would make it safely to their intended destination, he let out a breath and sat up.

He ran his hands through his hair as he floated past the giant rock cliff. He would have wondered how something like that escaped the notice of the crew, especially since this was a routine run for them, except he knew it was Faith.

He was glad she hadn’t taken the opportunity to end so many lives, and when his arm burned with a new message, he didn’t resent it quite as much as before.

“You can relax now.” she wrote. “Take a nap if you want. It will take a bit to float the coffin safely to the shore.”

Octavian looked around. “What shore?”

“The one to your left, through all that fog.” She replied.

When he looked again, he saw impossibly thick fog standing on the water’s surface like a wall.

“She’s right on the other side of that fog.” He said to himself. “So close now.”

He stretched as he lay back on the coffin, a menacing smile on his face.

“A nap doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.” He said aloud. “Thank you witc….Faith.”

“Sweet dreams.” She replied.

Octavian closed his eyes and found himself back in another time, continuing his search for Elizabeth.

END of Story 9-"Reunion"-Part 2

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About the Creator

Author Jennifer Treece

I’m Jennifer. I am an indie author. I write novels, short stories, and poems. My genres are mixed and include mystery, supernatural, and paranormal.

You can also find me on my website!

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