the captain’s strange account
“I couldn’t tell dream from reality. Even now I don’t want to believe what I saw, what I thought I must’ve seen, but I remember it all too vividly.”
"...what are you saying, captain? We never left."
...
They were commissioned on an expedition to explore the new world, then dubbed Darkmoor, after its stormgate had appeared out of nowhere. For reasons unknown to them, the windstones weren’t responding, and so they could not leave the way they came—they were stranded, and marooned in this strange, unfamiliar world.
Wary of their new surroundings, the crew anchored their ship in the middle of the pitch-black skyway, and decided they’d continue their exploration in the morning—assuming morning ever existed in this world.
It was then that it happened to the captain, in the dark of the ship at night.
...
The captain worked tirelessly in his quarters, writing letters of correspondence and trying to figure out how they could leave this world. The rest of the crew remained soundly asleep in their quarters. The safety of the crew was his priority—they were all counting on him.
He was in his room all alone. It was somehow getting darker than it already was outside.
Suddenly, he heard his door open, with an unusual slowness. Its slow creaking alarmed him.
He walked over to see if one of his crew members needed something. No one was there.
...
He continued to work persistently at his desk, awaiting the moment he would finally finish.
Exhaustion began to seep in; his vision began to blur.
He then heard a door slam from outside the hallway. The loud noise startled him out of fatigue.
He listened for which of his crew were up and about, but the loud slam was followed by a deafening silence.
...
Hours of excruciating work had finally come to an end. He didn’t know enough about the world to know how they could leave—they’d have to do more investigating the next day.
He looked out the window. The black of night had thoroughly blanketed the world.
Looking to wash up before retreating to slumber, the captain got up and headed towards the door.
He closed the door on his way out. Eyes peered at him from the keyhole.
...
Now before him was the long, narrow hallway. Why did he feel suddenly tense?
It must be just the ship. It was quite old, and its constant creaking always did make him anxious.
He started down the hallway. The captain walked a few steps, until he froze in place.
A figure stood at the end of the hall.
...
Unease filled his whole body. His heart beat fast, adrenaline rushing through. It felt so loud, he feared even the figure might hear it.
It had the outline of a person, but he could not make out any of its features. But somehow he knew it wasn’t any of his crew.
The figure stood there as if staring at the captain, carefully tilting what seemed like its head, observing his every move—but it had no eyes, no nothing—a figure of ominous black.
He blinked to close his eyes, and the figure disappeared. As quickly as it appeared, it had gone.
...
He stood there alone in the hallway. Was it gone? Were they really safe?
Terrified and filled with a sense of urgency, he felt compelled to check every single room to confirm his crew’s safety.
It’s okay. It’ll be okay.
Upon checking cabin after cabin however, whatever sense of security within him left his body. Where was his crew?
...
He searched everywhere on the ship—the main deck, the cabins—there seemed to be no signs of life on their ship—all except for his—and whatever it was that he saw.
The unease within him continued to grow. It didn't make sense; everything about this situation was impossible. In the middle of the skyway, where was his crew?
There was only one place left for him to check: the cargo hold.
Reluctant, he descended down the stairs, lantern in hand, and entered the doors to the hold.
...
It was dark, completely pitch black. The only source of light was his lantern, and from its light he could make out a crouching figure at the end of the room.
He walked a few steps, approaching what he thought would be a familiar face, just before the lantern’s flame abruptly went out.
Something was wrong. Who—what was that—
He hurriedly reached into his pockets for matches, not wanting to be left in the dark for too long.
...
Upon lighting the match, however, with such close proximity to his own—he found a pair of eyes staring back at him.
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