The Mariana Trench: A novel of suspense and supernatural horror

by Matt Shaw

  Chris couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t like he had any other choice but to hang tight. ‘Can you do me a favour?’

  ‘Sure.’ A crack of lightening bolted from one of the clouds and stabbed into the sea-water with a series of bright blue-white forks.

  ‘Can you tell my wife that…’ The line went static. ‘Hello?’ Nothing. ‘You there?’ Still nothing. ‘Fuck sa…’ Before he could finish his sentence, the submarine and all around started to violently shake once again.

  Up above, on the rough surface, Mike continued trying to get through, ‘You hear me? Chris? Shit…’ He set the radio mic down and looked up to the black skies. ‘The hell is going on with this weather?’ He was unaware that, the black skies weren’t just over that stretch of the water; they stretched across all the seas all over the world and just as Mike and his crew were about to witness the storm of a life-time, so too was another crew about to go through its own hell.

  *

  Elsewhere (NOW)

  Jamie screamed out for Hannah Sass as another large wave crashed into the side of the yacht. The force of which sent Hannah flying down towards the decking. With a crack loud enough to be heard over the high seas and rumbles in the sky, Hannah’s temple smacked the very edge. When she didn’t get up, Jamie made her way over to where she lay. The whole time she screamed for her to move as it wasn’t safe to be on the deck but, Hannah heard nothing anymore. Her eyes open and fixed to the side of the boat. Blood seeping from the hefty crack in her skull.

  Davey, the ship’s bosun, came running out to help too as another heavy wave slammed the side of the yacht. With steadier sea-legs, Davey didn’t fall. Without knowing what had happened to Hannah, other than that she fell and wasn’t moving anymore, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her back into the yacht, out of the heavy rain which continued lashing down hard upon the soaked, slippery decking. Jamie followed with tears streaming down her face - not that you could tell she was crying given how wet she was. Unlike Davey, she’d seen that Hannah looked dead.

  Inside, Davey put Hannah down on the carpeted floor and immediately started to check for a pulse. He pressed one side of her neck, then the other. He checked her wrist. He looked up to Jamie’s face. ‘She’s dead,’ he said.

  Another crack of lightening lit the night-sky up.

  Another rumble of thunder shook their insides.

  ‘What the fuck was she doing out there?’ Captain Lee was standing in the doorway, holding the door frame to keep his balance as the yacht continuing rolling on the ferocious waves.

  ‘I don’t know!’ Jamie said truthfully.

  ‘Is she…’ Captain Lee cut his own question off when he saw the look on Davey’s face. He punched the wall as a sudden burst of emotion surged through him. ‘Fuck it!’ As captain he was responsible for everyone on the yacht and in all his years, he’d never lost anyone. But then - in all his years - he had never seen a storm to this scale. He stepped into the room and slumped down on one of the many chairs. With ailing power and all comms down to try and get help, for the first time in his career, he felt entirely out of control and helpless. He put his head in his hands. The food was gone, bottled water almost gone… They still had the alcohol but it wasn’t advisable to drink that given it only served to dehydrate you further. Although perhaps it would be worth it? Welcome death faster but do so pissed - at least that way it won’t be as unpleasant. After a moment’s contemplation, Lee told Davey, ‘Round up the others.’

  Davey hurried from the room, using the walls to keep himself as upright as possible as the ship continuing lurching. Captain Lee looked over to Hannah. Jamie was on her knees, next to the body and crying. He wanted to say “sorry” for what happened to her but the words were stuck in his throat. All he kept wondering was, what was she doing outside? For all he knew, she’d had enough and was going to jump overboard. She knew death was coming for her so figured she would do it on her terms. Captain Lee had heard of people doing that before; taking their own lives to go out on their own terms. “They” do say drowning is supposed to be one of the most peaceful ways to go. If that was what Hannah was trying to do then - congratulations - she got her wish, even if it was by different means. Given their current predicament, she was one of the lucky ones and - soon enough - it could well be they’d all be following her. The yacht was, after all, continually getting pushed by the storm. God only knew when they’d come across land and smash into it. For all Captain Lee knew, this could well be their last hour and soon they’d be drowning with the yacht capsized. In truth - they all had thought that at some point yet, weeks after getting stuck in this ungodly, never-ending storm - here they were… All still alive and kicking; just slowly starving.

  Jamie said, ‘You should have seen the storm coming. You should have been able to move us around it.’ She was staring at Hannah but her words were aimed squarely to Captain Lee.

  He looked back at her with contempt in his eyes. ‘Is that right?’

  ‘You’re the captain! We have radars! You should have seen it coming!’

  ‘I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation,’ he said calmly. ‘One minute everything was fine and then the whole screen changed. The storm came out of no where like the gate’s of hell itself opened up and swallowed us down…’

  Continues in the book “Below Deck”

  Chapter Fourteen

  NOW

  Chris stumbled down the gangway, back towards the viewing room where everyone else was still gathered. From the canteen room, he could hear Yolanda laughing from the other side. As he passed, he hit the heavy door with the side of his clenched fist and shouted for her to, ‘Shut the fuck up.’

  ‘You’re going to die down there,’ Yolanda sung. The moment she finished her sentence, she started to laugh with glee.

  Chris called back, ‘As will you.’ Under his breath he muttered, ‘Dumb bitch.’

  With the submarine still shaking, Chris stumbled into the viewing room. The others were seated, to save themselves from falling over, and watching through the viewing window as the black tentacle dragged them closer towards the gap in the sea-bed which had widened significantly.

  John glanced over to Chris and said, ‘I’m sorry.’ From his tone, Chris knew that was all he had been saying to the others whilst Chris was up in the control room. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again.

  Chris looked over to what they were being dragged towards. Between the two edges of the sea-bed, staring straight back at them, he could see the beady-eye of the creature staring back at them. He didn’t ask what it was. Not because he wasn’t curious, he just knew no one would have the answers he wanted. He paused a moment. No one would have the answers he wanted. That wasn’t quite true.

  She had the answers.

  Using the walls to steady himself, Chris hurried from the room and back down the narrow gangway towards the canteen door. Previously, after shutting Yolanda in, they’d jammed the door shut with a fire-axe from the nearby wall. He grabbed it from the handle and pulled it free. With the axe in hand, he struggled to open the door but - struggle as he did - he refused to drop the weapon, just in case “she” came at him.

  Yolanda was just standing there. She faced the door as it opened. A wide, inhuman grin stretched across her face with such width that it would have hurt a normal person had they attempted it. Chris just stood there as the submarine continued to shake as it was pulled ever closer to the gaping hole.

  ‘What is it? How can we get it to let go,’ Chris asked. Whatever this thing was which had taken over Yolanda’s body, it had clearly came from the same place as whatever had a hold of them. Maybe it knew what the creature was? Maybe it was able to communicate with it?

  Yolanda laughed.

  Chris raised the axe, ready to bring it down on her. ‘We all die down here.’

  Yolanda’s laugh faded away. The smile slowly disappeared from her face which turned expressionless. Her eyes, black and soulless. She said, ‘No. We all suffer down here.�
�

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  Outside, unseen by Chris, the water around the split-hole started to get blacker in colour as the same toxic “liquid” from before started to pour out more freely. Whereas before it stayed “floating” close to the hole from where it came, now it started to seep out into the ocean itself.

  Chris asked again, ‘What do you mean we all suffer down here? That thing will crush us. There’ll be no suffering, there’ll just be a quick death.’

  Yolanda said, ‘Yes, followed by endless suffering as you relive whatever you are most guilty for - over and over - and the same fate awaits those who would venture down here to recover that which is lost forever.’

  ‘You really need to start speaking English…’

  ‘Or you need to start listening.’

  Chris’s arms started to grow tired from holding the axe up. Slowly he started to lower it. As he did so, Yolanda started to laugh once more.

  She teased him, ‘What is it which eats you up at night on those long nights in which you cannot sleep?’

  ‘Fuck you.’

  ‘What troubles you most and ties your stomach in knots?’

  ‘I said, fuck you.’

  ‘He will take your fears and use them against you for your eternal sleep. Your everlasting nightmare from which you cannot wake.’

  ‘He. Who?’

  Yolanda laughed again. ‘He sees you. He has you. His poison has leaked into the waters and will infect and change those who are to stumble into it, bringing out the worst in man…’

  *

  ELSEWHERE (NOW)

  As black water swirled around the super-yacht, Ben slammed the hammer down on the woman’s head again and again. He wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t “happy”. He wasn’t angry. There was zero emotion. He was just getting the job done that the captain had asked of him. A job he had done time and time before, back on dry land before the new season had come into play.

  Christina’s body was lying on the plastic-covered floor of the galley which had been set up for this very occasion to save the blood staining into the yacht’s woodwork. Her head was caved in. Blood seeped from her ear-holes, nostrils and even her mouth. One of her eyes was bulging from its socket and one more hit would have most likely made it pop all the way out.

  Annette hadn’t stopped to see the violence unfold. Neither could Davey bring herself to hang around to watch it either. The moment Ben first swung down - and connected - with the hammer, both of them made themselves scarce. Ben didn’t mind. So long as they’d been there at the start, if things had gone wrong, in order to help if it was needed, that was fine. Other than that, once he got the hammering in and the body wasn’t fighting back or struggling, he didn’t give a shit what they did.

  Ben dropped the hammer to the covered floor. He stood to his full height and looked down at the dead, pretty girl. It wasn’t a waste. None of “this” would be a waste.

  Before anyone else came in and laid claim to anything, he dropped to his knees and reached up under her black dress. He grabbed her knickers, sodden from urine after her life slipped away from her, and pulled them down. A quick little sniff and he pocketed them in his chef’s jacket. A little souvenir for his memory box, to go with all the others he had taken before. The woman’s purse, her jewellery, any potential gold teeth (not that they ever found any with people they’d done this too before) - Ben didn’t give a shit about that crap. Stuff like that, he’d leave for the vultures to come pick at.

  Ben grabbed a radio from the sideboard and spoke into it, ‘Captain, Captain - Ben.’

  ‘Come in, Ben,’ Captain Lee’s voice crackled through.

  ‘It’s done. Dinner is in the pantry.’

  ‘Roger that, great work.’

  Ben set the radio back from where he’d grabbed it. He looked back down to the body and wiped his brow free of sweat. ‘Well,’ he said with a little laugh, ‘fair to say I’ve worked up an appetite.’

  Continues in the book Below Deck

  Chapter Fifteen

  NOW

  Chris demanded again, ‘Who?’ Little did he know that his question had already been answered in the viewing room, with the others still gathered at the window and the submarine teetering upon the jagged edge of the torn open sea-bed.

  *

  Nate stood, dumbstruck, as did the others who were now standing with him. All had risen from their seats as more of “beneath the gap” was revealed to them.

  ‘How is that possible?’

  The sea-bed had parted but there was not more water waiting for them below. The water defied the laws of physics and simply “stopped” at where the sea-bed once was. Beneath the water level, a wide open mass with red rocks and flutes of fire here and there, along with a darkness in the distance which looked as though it could have stretched forever.

  All of them knew what this strange new land looked like but none were willing to say it. Wriggling through the air, as though dancing on invisible strings, more of the snake-like creatures which had slithered from Becca’s open body earlier.

  All of them jolted forward once again as the creature which gripped the submarine so tight, gave another tug of its outstretched tentacle, pulling the closer to the edge still.

  *

  Chris stumbled back and caught himself against the wall. Desperate for an answer, still in the galley, he asked again, ‘Who are you talking about? Why can’t you just fucking answer me?!’

  ‘Some of man will be changed and some of man will be killed. Those who lose their lives will dwell in his own vice-like grip re-living their nightmares over and over. That is the way and what you and your friends look forward to now.’

  Chris looked at Yolanda. What in the fuck was she? Whatever she was, Chris knew he wasn’t going to get any answers from her anymore. Furthermore, he knew it wasn’t Yolanda either. Whatever it was, it was hostile and potentially dangerous. Without a second thought - and in much haste - he raised the axe up high and brought the sharp edge straight down to the centre of her skull. She dropped to the floor with the axe still stuck in her head and her eyes - once again - rolled to the back of her skull.

  ‘Fuck you.’ Chris spat on her body as her leg started to twitch due to the nerve damage within the brain. With another shake of the submarine, Chris fell back against the wall. This time he made no attempt to steady himself and, instead, just slid on down to the floor. Whilst he didn’t fully understand all that Yolanda had been saying, he knew enough of what was happening to know that this was it now.

  His attention was stolen by more movement from Yolanda’s body. Whereas her leg twitch had been subtle, her entire body started to violently convulse. Chris watched but made no attempt to get away. What would be, would be.

  Yolanda’s head turned to the side, still with the axe wedged firmly in her cranium, and her left eye plopped from the socket and - still attached - splatted on the floor where it stayed, staring back at Chris. He wasn’t looking at the eye. He watched as the black eel-like creature slithered out from the ripped open socket. It landed on the floor, next to the eye, and curled itself into a tight little ball. Chris sighed. He knew it would only be a matter of time before it started to move towards him. The question was, would it be better to let it take over his body or would it be better to die with the outside pressure crushing him?

  Neither option looked or sounded particularly pleasant.

  *

  John pulled himself up to one of the seats. He sat and, with elbows resting on knees, he put his head in his hands. The others were still looking out of the viewing window. They were crying. Billy was saying a prayer. Nate was just asking how any of this was possible over and over again as he looked to the giant mouth of the alien-looking octopus. Its mouth was open. Inside, along with razor sharp teeth pointed to spikes, there was a forked tongue. Closer and closer it pulled them towards its hungry mouth.

  John didn’t need to look out at the monster any longer. He didn’t want to hear the prayers, the
crying, the questions, the fear. He just wanted it to be all over. A wish that he could reverse time and cancel the whole fucking trip. A wish that he had listened to all those who’d said he was crazy for attempting such an expedition and how he was just wasting his money.

  Quietly, talking to the group and yet unheard, he apologised again, ‘I’m sorry for bringing you down here. I’m sorry for not being better equipped for all eventualities. I’m sorry for killing you…’ This was his guilt to carry. The only relief came when, with a quick glance up and seeing nothing but the inside of the creature’s mouth, he realised his guilt would be short-lived. Closer still they moved and - one final time - John said…

  Chapter Sixteen

  BEFORE, NOW, TOMORROW, FOREVER

  John smiled to himself as he stood on the beach, looking out to the water. The smile slowly faded as a weird sensation washed over him, as though he had lived this moment before. Or, perhaps, a sense of dread that something terrible was going to happen.

  ‘Beautiful isn’t it?’ Becca Ross said as she approached where John was standing. John visibly jumped at the sound of her voice. He’d been so lost in deep thought, he hadn’t heard her approaching. As far as he was aware, he was the only one on the resort with most of the workers, trying to get the place fixed up, having already left for the night. Becca laughed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t meant to startle you.’ She extended her hand and introduced herself, ‘Becca Ross. I’m one of the…’

  John took her hand in his and shook. ‘I know who you are,’ he said with a smile. ‘I studied all the files ahead of coming out. I’m…’

  ‘John Drain,’ Becca said. ‘And I studied all of the files too.’ She asked, ‘Are we the only ones here?’