Sea Sick: A Horror Novel

Here we go.

Jack placed his hand against the door and pushed it open gradually. When it was several inches ajar, he peered out through the gap. The narrow view he had of the room was empty. The tables and chairs of the dining area lay undisturbed. It seemed safe. Deserted.

Jack edged himself through the gap in the door, keeping the knife in front of him. The room was covered in blood and bits of flesh; there was even a severed hand lying on one of the buffet carts. But no bodies. Further into the dining area, several tables and chairs were tipped over and the pools of blood were thicker – thick enough that those who shed it must certainly have been dead. But still there were no bodies.

What the hell? Where is everybody?

Jack bent at the knees and tensed himself, ready to react to the first sign of danger. Yet there seemed to be none. All was quiet. Almost serene. Was it possible that the situation had been dealt with? Jack didn’t know what sort of security a cruise liner employed, but it had to be somewhat competent with so many passengers to protect. A brief flash of memory reminded Jack of what had happened the last time – the first time he’d been through this madness. He suddenly recalled the efforts of security to control things in the High Spirits lounge. They had failed miserably then, so why would they succeed now? Jack had little faith that the danger was over. It just wasn’t here in the room with him.

The double doors of the restaurant were closed, blood and dirty handprints smeared all over the frosted glass. Jack wondered whether he should go through them. The restaurant was now empty and possibly safe. But staying there and cowering went against everything he stood for. He was a protector, a man of action, not a coward. Jack opened the doors and entered the corridor outside.

There was more blood, over everything. The whole hallway seemed like the scene from a horror-movie massacre. Jack headed forward, away from High Spirits and the Lido Restaurant, and towards the Sport Deck at the front of the ship. He passed by the upper level of the Broadway Lounge, with its balconied seats looking down at an empty theatre stage. There was less blood in here, but it was still deserted like everywhere else. Jack’s stomach was churning, his senses telling him to just get the hell out of there. It was the first time in his life that his body was choosing to flee rather than fight.

But flee from what? What the hell is wrong with everyone and where have they all gone?

Outside of the Broadway lounge was a short hallway with staircases on either side. He knew it led to an area outside with tennis courts and a 5-v-5 football pitch inside a Perspex enclosure. Technically, Jack had never been there before and should not know a thing about it, but he remembered it from the…dream he’d had last night – or whatever it had been. The first time he’d lived through this day, he had explored the ship, and now he remembered. If that had actually happened in reality, rather than his imagination, then the Sports Deck would be exactly as he expected it to be.