Sarcophagus: Their mistake wasn’t finding it, it was bringing it back!

by Ben Hammott

  Greyson reluctantly nodded. Though he would rather not be involved, the plan seemed sound.

  The three groups parted, and from three directions, moved in on the monster.

  Concealed by the cargo, Coleman and Setsuko halted at the end of the narrow gap they had crept through. Coleman fought back the temptation to peer around the corner; if he was seen the monster might move from its position and Greyson and Chavez wouldn’t be able to catch it in the net. Though he had doubts about the net’s usefulness, he wanted to use every advantage at his disposal.

  Owen and Wheeler waited in a similar position on the other side of the monster’s hiding position. It now had nowhere to go.

  Surprised by how quietly he could move when his life depended on it, Greyson crawled along the top of the woodpile that gave off the scent of recently harvested timber. He glanced at Chavez when they halted near the edge, only a few feet above the monster, and mouthed, are you ready?

  Chavez nodded none too confidently.

  Greyson held up three fingers and then mouthed. One, two, three.

  They stretched the net over the gap and let it fall.

  On hearing the net strike something, Coleman and Owen’s team stepped forward and aimed their weapons along the gap.

  “Hold your fire,” Coleman yelled.

  He lowered his rifle and approached the net hooked over the garden tools crammed into a tall enameled bucket. The claw shadow was formed by a three-pronged weed rake and the head, a rag wrapped around the top of a bundle of branch cutters to protect the blades.

  Coleman and Owen smiled at each other as they relaxed.

  Greyson and Chavez peered over the top.

  “Oh, well, it was good practice,” said Greyson.

  “I guess the room is clear,” said Owen. “Where to next?”

  “Engine room,” replied Coleman, there is nowhere else it could be.

  They untangled the precious net from the garden implements and headed for the exit.

  CHAPTER 9

  Engine Room

  The creature climbed down the vent stack pipe, paused at the end and gazed around the strange smelling room filled with the constant thumping of machinery. Its cruel eyes picked out six men in the gloom, a final snack before it transformed. It climbed from the vent pipe and clawed limbs carried it silently along the ceiling covered with tubes, pipes and cables until it was above two men checking the readings on a bank of gauges. It dropped, twisted in midair and landed on the steel catwalk behind the two men.

  Stubbins, slightly deaf from years of working in the constant clamor of the engine room, failed to hear the rumbling growl behind him. However, he felt the thump of something landing on the catwalk through the vibrations that shuddered up his legs. When he turned to investigate, something warm splashed his face.

  The dim light that bathed his friend’s face revealed the deep, parting gashes across his cheeks and his open mouth uttering a painful scream Stubbins barely heard. He staggered back when something slammed into him and knocked him off his feet. Fear gripped when he caught his first glimpse of the monster that dropped onto all fours and straddled him. Stubbins stared into the creature’s malicious sunken eyes, that stood out starkly in its chalk-white face and saw his death. When the creature growled menacingly, he lashed out at its head with the large spanner he had used to fine-tune the old engine that constantly needed attention. Before it made contact, it was snatched from his grasp and flung away, clattering noisily against the lower level machinery.

  A brawler by nature, Stubbins was not one to give up without a fight; he thumped at the vicious head that darted at his chest. He winced when his knuckles slammed into bone painfully. The monster’s teeth scraped across his ribs as it took a bite of his flesh. Stubbins didn’t hear the splintering of his bones when the monster cleared the way to his heart, but he felt the intense pain and screamed. Before darkness overwhelmed him, he glimpsed his bloody heart between the monster’s teeth.

  Fitzgerald glanced across the room at the sound of something clattering to the metal floor.

  “What was that?” asked Nijama, shoveling another load of coal into the furnace.

  Fitzgerald wiped the sweat from his brow with a coal-dust stained hand. “Sounded like something fell; something metal.”

  “Probably Stubbins or Lino working on the engine,” said Nijama, disinterestedly.

  Fitzgerald wasn’t so sure. “You okay here for a minute while I go and check?”

  “Yeah, I don’t need hand-holding, but if you see Ronaldo, tell him we need more coal brought forward, pronto-like.”

  Fitzgerald nodded. “He’s probably nipped out for a crafty smoke and some fresh air.”

  Fitzgerald moved toward the area where he had heard something fall. The old ship was past its prime, and it wouldn’t be the first time something had rattled loose and fallen. He rounded a corner in the narrow aisle and passed through the gaps between the machinery, running a hand over the throbbing engine as he went. His foot nudged something, sending it sliding along the metal path. He retrieved the spanner he recognized as the chief engineer’s.

  Fitzgerald tilted his head back and gazed at the catwalks for signs of Stubbins. He glimpsed on catwalk-1 and moved across the room until he was below it. He gazed down at the dark puddle on the floor he thought was oil. As he searched for the leak, something landed hard on the thick pipe beside him. Fitzgerald almost toppled to the floor when he jerked back from the chief’s body bent backward at an impossible angle around the pipe. Thinking the chief had fallen, he rushed to him, but froze on seeing the man’s ripped open chest. Stubbin’s death was no accident.

  Something landed on the path behind Fitzgerald.

  A waft of ancient decay, strong enough to cut through the ever-present smells of coal, oil and grease, brought fear to Fitzgerald’s eyes. A soft throaty growl, too close to bring him any comfort, caused his legs to tremble. With the thoughts of the monster they had been warned about running around the ship now at the forefront of his mind, Fitzgerald slowly turned. Fright released his grip on the spanner at the sight of the small but vicious creature that shouldn’t exist. The spanner clattered to the floor. The monster raised a claw. Though conscious of running footsteps, Fitzgerald paid them no heed; he was focused on the claw moving closer and tried to force his legs into motion to carry him away from this nightmare.

  Suddenly, the monster shot to the side, crashed into machinery and collapsed to the ground. The wheelbarrow responsible tipped to the side.

  Recovering from his near-death experience, Fitzgerald looked at Ronaldo and nodded his thanks. Abruptly, Fitzgerald was barged aside by Arnie, who rushed past and slam-kicked the dazed monster hard in the head. Ronaldo grabbed Fitzgerald’s arm and dragged him away. With Arnie following, they headed across the room toward the furnace to warn Nijama of the danger.

  The monster sneered at the fleeing humans when it climbed groggily to its feet. It was about to chase after them when it contorted in pain. Its skin began to split in various places. The transformation was upon it. Though painful, it was a good sign. Its present state made it vulnerable to harm, but after its transformation that would all change and the humans would experience its wrath. It would kill them all. It moved through the room searching for a secluded place to transform.

  Nijama glanced nervously around the room. At first, when they had informed him of the monster, he thought they were joking. Ronaldo’s story about seeing a creature attacking Fitzgerald and knocking it off its feet with the wheelbarrow beggared belief. And Arnie bragging that he had kicked it in the head hadn’t convinced him they were telling the truth. It was the terrified look on Fitzgerald’s face that told a different story and persuaded him that it might be true. Deciding to err on the side of caution, he asked, “Where is it now and what do we do?”

  “It was getting up the last I saw of it,” said Arnie. “I say we hunt it down and kill it.”

  Fitzgerald looked at Arnie as if he was mad. “Kill it! How? We
don’t have any guns.”

  Arnie crossed to the nearby toolbox, pulled out a pry bar and held it up. “We might not have guns, but we have tools we can use as weapons.”

  “It might work,” offered Ronaldo. “It ain’t that big, and I attacked it with a wheelbarrow, the most unconventional weapon I can think of, so think of the damage we can inflict upon it with more suitable weapons.” He picked up a spanner almost the length of his arm. “This could easily smash its head in.”

  “If you can get close enough,” said Nijama, unconvinced seeking out the monster armed with a few tools was a sensible thing to do.

  “I suppose it’s better than waiting for it to hunt us down,” Fitzgerald relented. Though he would rather not face the evil creature again, he was aware it was last seen between them and the only exit from the engine room.

  “Everyone grab a weapon, and we’ll go hunt it down.” Arnie gazed around the gloomy room. “Something it’s probably already doing to us.”

  When the four men had chosen a weapon they each felt they could inflict the most damage with, they went to hunt down the monster.

  *****

  When the creature stirred and its eyes flickered open, it bore little resemblance to the monster that had fallen asleep an hour before. It was bigger, meaner and considerably deadlier, and it had an appetite for flesh to match. It heard voices a short distance away and slithered out from the dark space beneath the machine it had taken refuge in and began its hunt.

  After a thorough search of the room produced no sign of the creature, the four men gathered on catwalk-2 and gazed down at the various pieces of machinery that kept the vessel alive and moving through the ocean.

  “Well, it obviously ain’t here any longer as we’ve searched the whole room twice,” stated Nijama, relieved it had gone.

  “But how could it have gotten out?” Ronaldo’s eyes roamed the room, his gaze picked out the closed exit. “Even if it was intelligent enough to open the door, I doubt it would have the sense to close it.”

  “Same way it got in, I suppose,” suggested Fitzgerald.

  “Okay, what other exits are there it could have used?” asked Arnie.

  The men thought for a moment, and then as one, they turned and stared at one of the two vent stacks that fed fresh air into the engine room and expelled the stale air and fumes.

  “That way seems more feasible,” stated Fitzgerald

  Ronaldo sighed. “That’s it then. It must have escaped. It’s someone else’s problem now.”

  “We had better inform the captain about the creature now we know it’s loose again and tell him it killed the Chief and Lino,” said Arnie.

  Fitzgerald nodded. “Okay, you do it, but let’s all be on our guard in case it comes back. Keep a weapon…” He stared at his hand on the rail that trembled. He knew every vibration, rattle and tremor the ship made, and none of them were responsible for what he felt now. He peered over the side and came face-to-face with the new improved monster climbing one of the supports.

  Though its head remained pale and skull-like, it was more refined with a thinner, pointed jaw no less deadly than the previous. Thick, wiry hair covered much of its body and its arms were ringed in armour-like sections of brown bone.

  Before Fitzgerald could dodge back, the monster seized his head in its jaws and bit down. The last sound he heard was that of his skull cracking.

  The others watched in horror as the monster grabbed their friend by the head and flung him across the room. They tripped over each other when they staggered away from the larger hellish monster that leapt onto the catwalk and growled at them menacingly.

  Nijama felt his bladder weaken as he looked at the monster. “I thought you said it was small?”

  Arnie raised the pry bar. “It was. It’s either grown or it’s a different one.” He swung the metal bar at the monster when it attacked, catching it a blow on the side of the head.

  Unfazed by the blow, the monster snapped its jaws around Arnie’s wrist and bit clean through. It threw the hand still gripping the pry bar over the side of the catwalk and leapt at the humans.

  As the shocked men fell in a heap, the monster attacked. Efficient, deadly claws and teeth went to work. A few moments later, the three men were dead. The ravenous monster eagerly feasted on the warm corpses. As it devoured the last morsel of flesh, its eyes darted toward the voices filtering through the door at the far end of the catwalk.

  *****

  Coleman placed a hand on the engine room door handle and glanced at the others gathered round to ensure they were ready. Aware the monster was probably inside as they had searched everywhere else, he turned back to the metal, fireproof door—strong enough to contain an coal dust explosion—and pulled it open. He was knocked aside when something large and dark crashed into him. His head struck the wall. Dazed, he glimpsed flashes of teeth and claws, heard screams and yells of pain and then footsteps thumping away along the corridor. He watched the dark shape move away; the monster had changed.

  Surprised he hadn’t been killed; Coleman looked at the carnage that had taken mere seconds to perform. Blood covered the floor and splashed the walls. Owen’s backbone was visible through the single bite that had ripped away half his face and most of his neck. The mass of deep, long gouges in Wheeler’s chest had been carried out so ferociously his ribs had snapped and poked out at odd angles.

  When Wheeler moved, Coleman wondered how the man could possibly still be alive. The bloody hand that appeared at Wheeler’s side solved the mystery. Coleman rolled Wheeler off the man beneath and helped Greyson to his feet.

  Setsuko pushed Owen’s corpse off her and glanced around at the slaughter that had happened, it seemed, in the blink of an eye. She had caught a brief glimpse of something dark exploding through the door before Owen fell on top of her, saving her life. She looked up at Coleman. “What the hell was that?”

  Coleman took a deep breath filled with concern. “It seems the monster has evolved.”

  Greyson looked at the net clutched in his shaking hands. “Do you think we need a bigger net?”

  “I think we need a bigger everything.” Coleman helped Setsuko to her feet, pleased to see she still held onto her rifle, though he didn’t know how good it would be now against the larger creature. When he noticed her trembling, he asked, “Are you okay?”

  Setsuko stepped out of the blood pooling around her feet and shook her head. “I think so, but after what’s just happened, I doubt I’ll be able to sleep again until I know it’s dead.”

  Coleman picked up Owen’s weapon and handed it to Greyson. “You know how to use one of these?”

  Greyson reluctantly took the weapon. “Point and shoot is all I know.”

  Coleman nodded. “That’s good enough.”

  “What’s the plan, sir?” asked Setsuko.

  “Same as before; we track and kill it. If it won’t die, we capture it in Greyson’s net and find some way to dispose of it, so it can never harm anyone else.”

  Setsuko nodded. “Send it back to hell, sir. That gets my vote.”

  Coleman looked at Greyson. As a passenger, he had no authority over him. “Are you still with us?”

  Greyson sighed, placed the heavy net over his shoulder and gripped the weapon like he knew how to use it. “What choice do I have?”

  “Good, let’s go find this demon and make it wish it had never left its coffin.”

  They headed back along the corridor.

  *****

  The creature slowed its rush along the passage as it searched for a way into other parts of the ship so it could seek out and feed on the humans. It climbed the steps at the end and looked along the corridor lined with doors. It sniffed the air; humans were close by. It padded softly along the corridor and halted on hearing voices. Its vicious head turned toward the door they had originated behind and watched the handle turn. As soon as the door began to open, it barged against it.

  Cynthia Nolan’s face was masked with concern as she watched her
husband turn the door handle. Though she had pleaded with him not to, Oscar’s stubborn streak couldn’t be nullified. He had paid good money for this voyage and damn if he was going to stay cooped up in the stifling cabin. He was hungry and set on heading out to find food and demand an explanation by someone in charge about what the hell was going on. As he pulled the door open, he was thrown back into the room with such force his spine snapped on impact with the edge of the small table set below the porthole.

  Cynthia screamed at the sight of the monster framed in the doorway. She shook with fear when it entered and casually padded toward her. It stopped in front of her and moved its snout toward her. She fainted and collapsed to the floor when its rough tongue licked her face. Though Cynthia was blissfully unaware of the monster hungrily consuming her flesh, her husband, though paralyzed from the neck down from a broken back, was conscious. He watched horrified as his wife was devoured. Too terrified to scream when the monster turned its attention on him, he watched its claws rip open his chest and start feeding. His only consolation was he couldn’t feel a thing and would hopefully be dead by the time it reached his head.

  The two humans had failed to sate the monster’s voracious appetite, and it left the cabin to seek out more. Believing more humans might be hiding behind other doors, it slammed his body against the one opposite. The door burst open and smashed against the wall. A sniff of the air free of human scent revealed it to be vacant. It moved to the next. The scream that erupted when the door splintered open was evidence this cabin contained food. It entered. The screams died. The monster ate.