CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "My crew was hired to refurb a derelict cruise ship. What happened will haunt me" Creepypasta

Episode Date: August 14, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by ChristianWallis: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comm...Creepypastas are the campfire tales of the internet. Horror stories spread through Reddit r/nosleep, forums and blogs, rather than word of mouth. Whether you believe these scary stories to be true or not is left to your own discretion and imagination. LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO-SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd...iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast...CREEPY THUMBNAIL ART BY►Oliver TitleySUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS-►"Good Places to Start"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g7YCb...►"Personal Favourites"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEa2R...►"Written by me"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gX6RA...►"Long Stories"- https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...FOLLOW ME ON-►Twitter: https://twitter.com/Creeps_McPasta►Instagram: https://instagram.com/creepsmcpasta/►Twitch: http://www.twitch.tv/creepsmcpasta►Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CreepsMcPastaCREEPYPASTA MUSIC/ SFX- ►http://bit.ly/Audionic ♪►http://bit.ly/Myuusic ♪►http://bit.ly/incompt ♪►http://bit.ly/EpidemicM ♪-This creepypasta is for entertainment purposes only-

I'm afterdam, for the maids'er. For the maids, they're two-hour faster. Doy. Toadm? Toll? 16 times per day from out Brussels and in two-hour. Now, from 19 euros, in place of 25. Book you tickets on NMBS International.com.

The festival season is aangabroken, and that beteked, and so, came Kim to Amazon.com.com. On the look to a water-dict tent, a comfortable luget, oh, so, knus. And lupart print regalarze. Now, Kim has Kim has him more to make him over the modder, just like him Oh, he's just even

Only modder on Oh yeah, Only modder. Drogobleve? Goar for. Find what you need you need On Amazon.com. com.

... Right, I said, raising my voice on deck to make sure I could be heard. There are four of us, me up front and three others lounging around on deck chairs. What have we got so far? The anchor's bad, sitting up right, over his shaved head.

I'm not sure I'll be able to get it up. It held out for 30 years and isn't coming easy. Well, we kind of need to get it up, I replied, especially if we're going to get this baby back to a dock. If we need to, he said, we can cut it, but I'm not sure we've got anything that can do the job. I'll speak to Kazmsman, I replied. How's the rudder?

Looking good, Gareth answered. The rudder is good. Anything else? We found a leak, Charlie said, crossing a bit of a sigh. Bottom deck is flooded, but we can't be sure where the water level is still. A leak's bad news, Gareth groaned. It is, I said. Let's get down there. Charlie, Cole, you ready for a dive? Aye, aye, they cried. Already brought the suits up, Charlie added. Sounds good, I said. Let's get going. With that, Charlie and Cole left. Out of all of all of us, they had the hardest job, and from the keen looks in their eyes as they made the way below the deck, they took it seriously.

I nodded approvingly at Gareth as he walked over. He handed me a coffee, and we began to carefully pick our way across the open deck where we stood. It looked like it had been a sunbathing area with a nearby bar. Now, all that furniture was just broken wreckage, left street. through and across the floor. They're good guys, they're taking all of this well. It does seem pretty good on paper, Gareth said. We had been hired ahead of any other crew and sent to board the ship on our own. Our job was to have some kind of inventory ready to go the second the buyers crew arrived. After that, we would organise and manage the repair effort based on our initial reports. It does, I said. I would say that. except,

nothing about this place, careth asked. You have to wonder, you, looking at all this mess. I picked up an old handbag that had been lying on the floor. I know it's a sudden evacuation, but I'm not sure the captain went crazy like they say. You think it was something else?

Gareth asked, arching one eyebrow towards me. This place is creepy, but I've just been putting it down to nerves. I don't know, I shrugged and tossed the handbag to the floor. It'd help if it was a big story, if there were articles and interviews with ticked off passengers, standing on some dock with dripping wet air, moaning about how the captain abandoned ship for no damn reason. I showed in the purse I'd taken from the handbag, opening it up to reveal a faded driver's license.

I just get a funny feeling when I look at stuff like this. I know it was 30 years ago, but you think there'd be something online, wouldn't you? The rescue effort must have been huge. You think conspiracy? I don't know, I said. This place just feels weird. It's just the hebi-chibis, he replied, doing his best to make both of us feel better. Besides, I mean, well, we're here now. True, I nodded.

You're probably right. Just the hebi-jibis. Gareth chuckled and my use of probably. I got to go, he said. This conversation isn't doing me any favours. I waited for him to leave, shouting a final thanks for the coffee. He waved goodbye, and I watched and turned a corner. Once he was gone, I opened the purse again and ruffled through the papers. Most of them were old receipts, but something caught my eye.

A folded square of old paper towel, something taken from a dining table, perhaps. It was wrapped around an old dinner knife. The tips snapped off and nowhere to be seen. I enrolled it and found a message written in all. old lipstick. The writing was desperate. Letters harsh. They hurt me, it read. What the hell is that supposed to mean? I whispered. Get up here, Gareth's voice sounded tinny and distant.

I was alone, hearing it filtered through the radio at my waist. What is it? I asked. You've... To come... Nut, you won't... For goodness sake, I grumbled. All right, where are you? Top deck. It's... Gareth, you're still there? I cried, before

I resigned myself to a short walk. This better be good. Only when I climbed all the way to the top deck, I found it empty. Deck chairs were stacked toward the aft and parasols, bleached white in the sun, lay torn and lifeless along the floor. Occasionally, a gust of wind would catch one of the shredded flaps and it would struggle like a bird with the broken wing. the sudden sound,

a nerve deep inside me. most of this deck was taken by a large swimming pool. The scum covered surface disturbed only by old foam toys and deflated beach balls that floated eerily in the wind. Each one was a furry shape

engulfed in algae, pacing those choked waters like patient predators. Directly ahead was a water slide a twisting multi-coloured tunnel of plastic that rose upwards with 30 feet. It looked

faded and pale and was grown over with speckles of green algae, halfway up one of the sections turned transparent, offering a once tantalizing view of the sea. Something caught my eye up there, and to get a better view, I walked around the edge of the pool until the acrylic caught the sun and I could see right through it. There was a fuzzy, dark shape, something that if I squinted just right, looked like it could be big enough for a person. Suddenly, suddenly, and I caught the tail end of Gareth's voice. You got to help. Damn. The shape moved silently against the hard plastic. It looked like there could be someone stuck up there.

Is that him? I wondered. Gareth, where are you? Up. Just... Up here. It must be him, I decided. And I couldn't quite work out how to feel about that.

I sure has helped. wanted to assume it was him, didn't I? There was no one else. And that meant, I'd have to crawl there and help him out. And that. I guess that's where my thoughts started to dribble away like candle wax, because going up there was just about the scariest thing I could imagine doing. It wasn't just the thought of the danger. It was that place. Even just walking around the pool, stepping quietly, and dropped champagne flutes. I felt as if any second

something was going to lunge out and pull me down and I would disappear into that opaque, slimy water. The pool would be deathly still within seconds, and if anyone came looking, they'd never known

I'd been up there. They'd never even know what happened. Gareth, I cried as I reached the foot of the ladder. This is seriously a stupid thing you've done. I must be alone. up here, barring Gareth. I know I am, nothing else makes sense. No one's aboard this thing except us. And if I'm alone, then I have to help. There are no two ways about it.

He could get seriously hurt in the time it takes me to find the others. Any feelings I have about those murky waters are irrational. Just like that old church I had to walk past as a kid. It looks scary. That was all. This place looks scary, but it's dead. lifeless. Nothing to be afraid of. So I took my first step and immediately noticed the awful noise that rickety frame made. Every footfall on the ladder rattled all that metal and the plastic slides like an earthquake, and it took every ounce of courage to get up there. I'm not often afraid of heights, but up there you felt like you were stood on a collapsing tower. Every gentle turn of the ship A thousandfold

So that even I started to feel a pang of seasickness Not thinking I crawled towards the tunnel entrance And went in head first Hoping to get this all over and done with The plastic was dry as a bone And my hand gripped it easily So that was something

I poured myself along at a good pace Uncomfortably aware of how the claustrophobic tube was made for bodies much smaller than mine how Gareth had probably thought it was beyond me, and I spent most of the waist wearing quietly under my breath. The furious mutterings was a nice release, enough to keep me going until I reached the acrylic see-through tube. Somehow the space before me was empty.

I'd arrived at the midsection, only to find a scratched view of the cloudy sky. For a moment I replayed it into my head. Had I seen what I thought I had? or had he simply gotten free. there was no way he could have gone down. the way the way the slide was shaking, I would have noticed. And he definitely didn't come my way.

But the proof was before my eyes. He wasn't there. I was alone. Gareth? I cried. What the hell are you playing at? I don't know why I shouted anything. I hadn't wanted to hear a reply,

not even from Gareth. What I wanted, What was slowly expanding in my mind like a blooming star, eclipsing every other thought, was to get the hell out. But something did reply. A thud, a loud and angry sound coming from the very bottom of the tunnel out of sight. And I didn't just hear it. I felt it.

The tunnel shook. The vibrations passed up my hands. Another thud, and my whole body locked down with terror. Something is coming, my skin grew cold, my scalp tightened, and my heart started skipping every other beat. There were a few explosive thumps before they exploded into a galloping spring, the owner barreling of their slide with unseen fury. Something inside me finally broke. I began to backpedal in a crab walk, not even bothering to turn. Only now my hands gripped nothing.

The once firm plastic was smooth and slick, and I couldn't get enough traction to pour myself upwards. I had to fight with everything I had, just to keep myself in one place, my feet kicking black marks into the vinyl, and my hand squeaking against the plastic. I wanted the turn, but I couldn't take my eyes off that bend in the tunnel. Oh, come around there, I thought, what stinking wet thing is speeding towards me? I don't know if it was sweat or just clumsiness, but eventually what little grip I had had gave way. The tunnel seemed steeper than it had before, and gravity finally started to bear my way downwards. For long, agonising seconds, the plastic was as slippery as ice, and I was helpless to stop myself moving.

My mind turned white-hot with terror, and all my thoughts were burned away and replaced with a near hallucinatory state of despair. I screamed the whole way down, only to land in that retrogreen water with a basy plunk, the soup like water too thick to give off any splash. I broke the water, as I sucked in a state of total hysteria, gagging as I sucked in longfalls of rotten mayasma. That organic soup had been stewing for three decades, and if I had to guess,

I was the first thing to break the surface for a long, long time. The result was near intoxicating, enough to leave me on the cusp of unconsciousness. But I thought to stay lucid and pushed through that stringy mok, Its hairy tingles clinging to my with an almost life-like animation and heave myself over the pool's edge to collapse on the floor.

There I lay panting, confused and desperate, only to hear something else come from the pool beside me. K'plunk! The water looked undisturbed, but then again it would, wouldn't it? It was hardly even water, more like a tangle of weeds and slimy algae suspended in ooze. Something was in there. It was in a rational thought. One of many I'd had in the last few minutes. But God, I was certain that there was something in that damned water. Another sound, a loud screech, the sound of a child riding a slide. I looked up and saw the waterside's mouth rimmed with a dozen pale hands. Children's hands. Their owners crouched out of sight in darkness.

I ran screaming from that deck, unable to wait any longer, unwilling to take the risk of seeing who or what would emerge from that water. Gareth found me lowering bags onto the deck of our yacht below. My clothes rancid and dripping wet. I jumped when he called my name, and he jogged over with concern on his face. We're leaving, I said as soon as he was in hearing range. We're getting the hell out of dodge. Get Cole. Get Charlie. Let's go. I could see that Gareth

But then, But then the state of my clothes caught his eye And he stopped himself What happened? He asked I don't know I said Did you radio me to get up on the top deck No

He shook his head Have you spoken to me at all this morning After I'm meeting? No So you didn't stay in contact with What do you want about? I haven't radioed you once What the hell happened to you? Did

swim, he asked, not voluntarily, and I answered. What is I suppose to me? This place is screwed, I said. Something is aboard this ship, and it took a shot at me, and I'm not about to give it a second chance. Get Charlie and Cole before they dive. Tell them we're leaving in the next 20 minutes. Gareth's face darkened. Cole hasn't surfaced, he said. They went down but never came back up, and Charlie. is down there, I didn't want to move her. I don't know what's wrong. Did someone attack you up there?

Do you know if they hurt Cole? I didn't have time to explain everything to Gareth, so I grabbed him and tried to give him the cliff notes as we hurried to where he'd left Charlie down below. He kept poking holes in my story along the way, an old boy did that tick me off. I had to guess he was trying to rationalize it, but I felt like he was maybe missing the point. We weren't alone, and that was all I needed to set my ass sailing towards the horizon. By the time we reached Charlie, I think I'd certainly spook the guy a little bit. He looked shaken up, but I'm not sure he believed my story word for word, like he thought

I'd made me take in a tumble and knocked my head on the way down that slide. Not that it mattered, something I was reminded of when we found Charlie changing out of a suit. She was in a mad rush. We need to go! Now, scrambling, scrambling, with the things in hand. We can't leave, Gareth said. We have to get call.

N'uh, Charlie shook her head. He's gone. Whatever was down there, it got him. We got to go. You sure? I asked. Yes, she answered. I tried.

Believe me, I tried, but... But he's gone. Let's go, I said. For the love of God, let's just go. To our soul-crushing horror, when we reached the railing, we found nothing but grey water staring up at us. perplexed, I reached out to give the rope a tug, almost as if to check the very truth of my senses.

Just a short while ago, I've been climbing that rope and loading the yacht below. By definition, the yacht had to be wherever the rope was. They simply had to be together. So, how could there be one without the other? We stood there in a traumatised silence, until at last, Gareth spoke up. What happened down there, he asked.

What the hell is going on? Give it up, I said, as Gareth tried the backup radio for what must have been the hundredth time that hour. We know Kazim's men will be here sooner or later. It's just stupid, he cried. It was working this morning. All of them were. How the hell are going to be down now?

We have a radio, a backup, a backup for the backup. Four different satellite. It's this plane. case, her legs pulled up to a chest, as she took a long drag from a cigarette. It's got us where it wants us. What the hell does that even mean? Gareth cried. You know exactly what I mean, she said. I told you plain as day. Something took coal. One second he was there, the next he was not. You can't even say what it is, he replied. For all you know, he got stuck on something and we could... He's dead, Gareth. I found his damn mask.

There could be an air- He's dead, Charlie said, slowly withdrawing back Her eyes glazed over That leak we found was repaired We weren't the first to come here And try patching her up And whatever got the last people

Before they could pump the water It's going to get us next Charlie, I said Sitting beside her with deep concern It would help me a lot If we knew what we're dealing with What else did you see? She shuddered

And took a long, slow breath people, or bodies. of them. I'd say two, maybe three dozen. All of them were crew, those white little uniforms gone grey and rotten in the water. I saw a few officers down there, I think. They were just bones, so he looked almost like coral at first, until I got closer. That was where I found Cole's mask, sticking out from old ribs and femurs like it had always

been there. But, all right. All those bones are piled up like those people had been crawling towards it. Something had been drawn on it, maybe. I don't know. It looked charred like fire had been taken to it. I couldn't look at it long, though. Seeing that mask, those bones, it just... We're not alone. I know you don't believe me, but I'm telling you, we're not alone. I wasn't in that water alone. Things moved. The currents, you could feel them crawling across your skin, and the shadows never stayed still. There was something down there, just out of sight.

Always, just out of my damn sight. It had me going in circles into my damn air nearly run out. If I'd kept going, kept trying to find it, and really lay my hands on it, I would have drowned down there too. You know the last thing Cole said to me before he went missing, before something snatched him right out from under my nose? He said, "'who's that? Something about Charlie's story. "'warned its way right into my head. "'I could practically see that place

"'with all those dead skeletons, "'trying to claw their way towards God knows what. "'I could sense and feel the deathly silence hanging in the water. "'Dam was just about all I could manage to say, "'mottering it under my breath. "'Well, what do we do now?' "'Garath asked. "'And that,

was when someone knocked on the door. Room service The voice The voice Sir, I've been asked You some room service On the house I couldn't quite believe my eyes

Cole was standing Just outside the door Back straight and arms to his side A trolley full of hidden silver dishes Was beside him He looked paler than he ever had in life Like a powdered corpse He was shaking

And a thin trickle of sweat rolled across his brow. His eyes fixated on some distant spot behind me. Cole? Charlie heard me say his name, and she immediately rushed over and pushed me aside. She saw it was him. Really, truly him. But before she could get close, something stopped her. It was the same thing that it kept me frozen at the doorway. Cole didn't really look like Cole. It was him. It was him. sure, but he looked like he had gone through the ringer, like he was watching his child's coffin lowered into the ground. He kept licking his lips like he was going to say something, only he didn't quite seem sure of what. Cole, what happened to you? Quite the spread, sir, he said,

putting his hand on the trolley's handle. It's... it's on the house. His words were wooden, like a recited script. For some reason, I imagined a hostage, speech. into a phone with a gun against the head. That was exactly what he looked like. He was expecting something of us, I'm sure, but I couldn't say what. By now Gareth was behind me, every bit as confused as the rest of us. Cole smiled like he was about to burst into tears, and then he turned stiffly and walked away.

We exchanged brief looks of confusion and immediately followed, calling and shouting for him to stop. But he only sped up. He moved quickly as well. Whenever we got close, he'd turn a corner, and by the time he'd be down the corridor. Only he never ran. He was always impossibly far ahead after every twist and turn. It was as if he was sprinting when out of sight, and slowing to a leisurely walk whenever we got close. But why, I thought, what the hell is he playing at? The chase didn't last long. He soon disappeared from sight and we were left alone in just another one of the endless velvet corridors. I tried to see where he might have gone, but it was useless to look for him. He could have been anywhere. In despondent silence, we returned to our room only to suddenly remember the trolley he'd left behind.

We lifted each lid and found plates covered in ranted mulch, the food so rotten we couldn't even tell. what it had once been. Why would he want us to eat this? was that even him? I'd like to take a look at the kitchen, I said. I'd like to know where this came from. The food had been scooped at some rotten sacks around the back. Ancient vacuum-sealed packs of beef torn open and plopped onto cracked ceramic in hysterical rush. You could see where he dropped plates and old meat and had to start again. You could also see a half-futable dozen hypodermic needles littered around the ground, and on one countertop was a plain old toolbox

filled with every type of sedative you could imagine. It was an old thing, the hinges rusted, but a grimy outline in one of the cupboards, close to the back, let me know it had always been a fixture of their kitchen. I couldn't help but think of that note I'd found in the old handbag. They hurt us. That asshole tried to drug us. Do you think he's gone nuts? Gareth asked. I answered,

we need to go back to our rooms, and figure out our supply situation. I also think we need to work out shifts for keeping a watch during the night. So you think he wants to hurt us? Gareth nodded towards the toolbox. I don't understand what happened to him. We've known him for years.

I don't think it's him we need to worry about, Charlie answered. It's whatever got to him. Something was hissing. I was sure of it. I was up late, and something in the room was letting out a quiet whisper of white static. Gareth and Charlie were both asleep, and I was halfway through the midnight watch. At 4 a.m., Gareth would wake up and take over, and I'd finally get some rest. But until then, it was just me and my thoughts, and the deeply worrying sound of Cole,

occasionally shuffling around somewhere in the distance. And that hiss. If only I could figure out, if only I was But I was reticent to start walking around in case I woke the others. God, we were tense enough as it was without me worrying over some little thing. I tried to focus on the front door, hoping that whoever else was on this ship would leave us alone. At least we had a fair amount of supplies. We brought enough to last the whole stay, something we had to gareth's peculiarly. anxious mind. He was always doing things like that, stashing away enough food for twice the

journey and always bringing backups for backups. I quietly thanked him while I drank from a bottle of coke. I paused with a bottle to my lips, hearing the carbonated bubbles hiss against my lips. I brought the bottle back down and screwed the cap on. The hiss diminished, but it didn't disappear. And when I shook the bottle, it rose to a shrill whistle. carefully, I noticed a tiny, it was so small. that when I took the bottle

but once upright, the pressure was high enough to force a tiny trickle of air back out. What the hell? I muttered, speaking aloud for the first time in a few hours. Only my words sounded a little slurred

and my lips had felt a little weak. I thought of the needles in that kitchen of the sheer quantity of the sheer, tooked away. I rushed over the stack of the stack of the and began to pull them out, cursing as my arms and legs grew weak and sluggish.

Every bottle had a tiny pinprick on the top. Guys, I whispered, my limbs so numb, had to crawl my way over to the two sleeping forms. Charlie! I reached out and shook her, but she did not wake.

She was so, sleeping so heavy, she barely looked alive. We'd all been eating and drinking from that stock. It was our own, so we'd assumed it was safe. But of course, Cole would have known about it. Damn, I cried, falling backwards and feeling the world started to swim around me. The last thing I heard was the sound of our door opening, and Cole muttering quietly under his breath. He's hungry. Dave, wake up. I had to fight to pour myself up.

I'd fallen. I'd fallen. My neck and shoulders badly hurt. Slowly, I realized I hadn't left the room, and I wondered if I'd dreamed the whole thing. Then Charlie spoke again, and the nightmare was renewed. He's gone, Dave, Charlie cried. He's gone. I looked around and saw his sleeping bag was empty.

He drugged us, I grunted, grabbing the nearby bottle and handing it to Charlie. injected something in the lid. Damn, She screamed, hurling the bottle where he bounced harmlessly onto the floor. He must have come here when we went looking in the kitchen. We need to search for him, I said.

The medical facility abroad the ship was small, but densely packed with chairs, tables, and dozens of cabinets. When the ship one sailed, there would have maybe been a few medics or a single doctor abroad to treat mild injuries or illnesses.

But, should anything severe happen, most cruise ships simply turn around and dumped the injured passengers at a port to seek medical help on land. So why did this one have an operating theatre, I wondered? When I first saw that Gurney with leather straps and overhead light, I thought I simply had to be mistaken. But there was no denying it. The tanks full of nitrous and other gases. The trolley full of rusted scalples. Jesus, the drain on the floor to collect. any blood. This wasn't your average professional operating theatre. The straps to restrain

the table's occupant made that pretty clear. It was a small DIY space, with no real room to move or do anything, except get someone horizontal and begin cutting away with no thought to what came after. The doorway had been hidden behind old filing cabinets that had since toppled over, and you got a powerful sense you were standing in a place that was meant to be secret. It had been Gareth screams that led us to that place. We never did find him, at least not there and then. But we chased those shrill cries for help from one into the ship to the other, until, at last, we tracked it to this tiny little space.

Charlie said we must have been late, and I didn't have the guts to say anything else afterwards. That overhead light had been on when we first entered. The padlocked at the door opened and lying on the floor, And all along that table were little channels filled with blood that dripped slowly onto the floor, ready to circle the drain. Yes, I thought, we were too late. We didn't find much else to clue us in as to what happened to Gareth, but we did find an old doctor's bag with paperwork stuffed inside. It didn't make much sense, but reading it. God, you got a horrible feeling you were reading the product of a twilight.

twisted or broken mind. passenger salts will be ready for between midnight and 0, do not return later than 0400. Passengers sleeps with company. Observations show they are both early risers. Passenger Lauren will be ready for collection between midnight and 0,200 hours.

Passenger Lauren is a single occupancy cabin. Observations show she sleeps late due to nightly alcohol consumption. Effects of alcohol withdrawal may be used to mask-effective sedatives. Prepare her cabin appropriately upon a return. Passenger Jacobson will be ready for collection between 1,200 and 1,400 hours. Passenger Jacobson will be staying with a child care facility on deck 3. Crew member Phyllen will prepare passenger Jacobson for collection, use of sedatives unnecessary given passengers' age. Reports of behavioural problems to be prepared

for parents' return at 1,800 hours. If parents seek to escalate, the matter may be brought to the medical department where appropriate documents and diagnosis will be devised to diminish the impact of passenger Jacobson's narrative. Passengers Morris, Athley and Subton have been selected for further observation. In the event they are inappropriate for collection, passengers Wettle, Gibson and Gillette remain potential alternatives. Further notes, crew member Eileen Tousson has filed a report with the captain. She has expressed concern regarding safety of children aboard the ship, citing several mentions of the third report. This is the third report for the third report for months ago. Following complaints regarding kitchen and medical staff, report was

intercepted. Crew member Tucson was recommended for inappropriate conduct with passengers. This was only one of dozens and dozens and if I had to guess there was probably a place somewhere on the ship where we'd find hundreds more. They were not dated, but you got a twisted sense of chronology anyway. Passenger Donaghy will be ready for the midnight and 0200 hours. Passenger Donahy will be undergoing his third collections in starting his journey and is consequently stopped eating meals prepared by crew. Sedation is impossible.

Prepare appropriately for resistance. Passenger Nguyen will be ready for collection between 1430 and 1,500 hours. Observations show that passenger Nguyen is rarely separated from their spouse. Complaints or official inquiries regarding Passenger Nguyen's love. Passenger ghouyne's location are to be directed towards complicit members of the medical and officer's staff only. Room service personnel are on hand to provide a third, as yet unidentified, candidate, for collection between the hours of midnight and 0600. Further notes, the captain has escalated the situation.

His capacity for disruption is significant. We are unable to direct the ship and return to port and collect new passengers. He has reported damage to the hull that is not. not present and drawn significant attention from the coast guard. Corporate are working towards correcting the situation. Passenger population will return to normal in the coming weeks. I handed the last one to Charlie and waited for her to read it. I don't like that corporate reference, I said. I don't like that hungry man thing, she replied. What was this place? I shook my head in confusion and picked up another.

This one was considerably shorter. Crew member fillen will be ready for collection at 0, crews. Crews should remain vigilant for collection opportunities among remaining passengers. Some activity has been reported in the nursery on deck 3. Surviving passengers have proven difficult to collect, children included. He gives as well as takes, they are changed. Further notes, given the meager offerings, deck 1 and 2 and 3 are off limits.

It is unlikely he will be satisfied with current supplies. All remaining crew should be prepared For spontaneous collection Do not resist him Corporate report that efforts to return the ship To fully functioning are underway But significant resources are being directed Towards containing any information leaks

After the recent evacuation We must bear this period of scarcity With stoicism Looks like not everyone got off I said handing it to Charlie without looking Some of the crew stayed behind Some of the passengers too I think this place had something

a cult going on. Only Charlie She wandered over to a nearby counter and, opening drawers at random, had found another sheet of paper. It was shaking so badly in her hand I had to reach out and take it just to read the words. She didn't even resist. She just kept looking at her empty hand,

her eyes wide and glistening. Passenger, Gareth Jones, will be ready for collection between 0, 0, 0, observations show, will not sleep alone. Sedatives have been prepared for entire group. Crew member Cole must wait for sedatives to take effect.

Further notes, passenger Cole Webb has joined the crew. This represents a significant increase to current staff levels. Expects passenger Jones, Wallace and Mitchell to join the crew within the week. It has been lonely. We have given so much

much. His gifts We had barricaded our we could, only it didn't amount this time. This time it was not Cole or even Gareth, as I suspected he might, that came for us. It was something else that did not pretend to be anything except a monster. A clicking, drooling, shuffling thing with broken bones and sagging skin that glistened in the moonlight

like ranted meat. It silently pulled our door apart with heavy breaths that gurgled wetly in the dark. You could smell its hunger, its desperation. It did not groan or cry or roar. It only worked towards its prey like a determined predator, driven by nothing but a mindless animal instinct. It was in the room within minutes. We could hear it tearing the supplies we brought apart. Suitcases were hurled against the wall and toolbags tipped upside down.

Its breathing grew rapid as the thing continued to search for us. Meanwhile, we hid in the room two doors down, clutching ourselves in a pitch-black bathroom with our breaths held tight. Only once had I ventured to the door to look at what was tearing our room apart, and a single glimpse had been enough to nearly turn my mind to jelly. Whatever was out there looked human in its general outline, but that was where the resemblance ended. I couldn't help but of what we'd read

is this what happens after so many collections is this what will happen to Cole and Gareth if we leave them is this what will happen to me I didn't want

those kinds of gifts Charlie eventually fell asleep but I never could I'd heard the thing wander off into the darkness crying in rage and terror it had wanted so badly to find us

and I knew on some level It would never stop. Do you think it'll float? She asked. I'll swim the rest of the way, I have to, I said, giving the tiny lifeboat a kick. We'd thrown it together out of some old double doors and a few empty drums. It was desperate, but so were we. Besides, we're betting on the radios and the EPIRBS, suddenly working out in the water, which I'm pretty sure they will. You think they can do that? She asked. Block our cause for help? I thought of what I'd seen in the slide, of those little hands and the quiet plunk of the water. Yes. We hauled the raft overboard and waited for it to settle. Charlie was clutching the orange duffel bag full of provisions as if it was a child, and I couldn't blame her. Things had taken a desperate turn and all our hopes were pinned on it. We were getting ready to climb down to it when a loud echoing bang shableness.

shattered the silence. It sounded like a circuit breaker, like some great machine coming to life. Before we'd even turned, we found ourselves bathed in amber light, and the whole ship was lit up in a mockery of life. Go, Charlie cried, and we hurried to the rope ladder. She threw me the bag and I climbed over first, and for a brief moment, Charlie and I were face-to-face. We'd spent the whole night cooped up in that little room, unable to sleep or relax. and we spent all day on this last ditch effort had escape. you could see the stress and horror written across her face. She looked like a terrified child, lost and alone in the dark.

And I couldn't even see what was behind her. I tried calling out, tried to warn her, but before I could get a word out, she was snatched from before me. Whatever it was had come out of the nearby window, shattering glass and steel like it was clay. He moves so quickly. I barely registered my retina. But the slightest smear was enough to leave me paralysed on the ladder. My muscle seized with unspeakable terror.

The hungry man. She was gone in an instant and I was left with a choice. I looked down at the raft. He was still there, bobbing away. He promised the chance to leave. A chance to get off that damned ship like I wanted to that very first day. Meanwhile, the ship continued to whirling up, and, looking up, I glimpsed an ancient, creaking body crouched on the nearest roof, and spider-like limbs contracted

and ready to spring, waiting for me to return. It was like some shadow come to life. I took a deep breath and climbed down. They went back. The coast cart went back and looked for them. I told them not to bother, unwilling, unwilling, unable to believe my story. I hoped that over a dozen crawling from room to room had a chance of being safe, although I suspected the ship were not easily let go of fresh meat.

Hearing myself say this to them, it was like hearing someone else talk. I spoke of curses and hauntings like a stark raven lunatic, driven mad by exposure. I was surprised they even listened to me and tried to look for the others. but not as surprised, as when they found Gareth. They took me a little more seriously after that. He'd been found in a random passenger cabin sleeping under the covers. I dread the poor soul who first pulled back the duvet, only to find themselves face to face with a much changed Gareth.

In another time, the ship would have taken its pound of meat slowly and carefully, distributing the load across several passengers each day, with a constant rotation of the port, if I had to guess, of gareth was a pride of hungry lions apart a zebra, something violent and insane. He died before they got a hundred metres from the ship. I'm thankful for that little mercy,

although it breaks my heart to know that Cole and Charlie will never know that peace. I thought about going back, about burning it to the ground, or blowing a hole below the water line and letting its sink, Only, I can't go near the water. And I thought of seeing that ship rising on the horizon, I could no more return than I could fly to the moon.

I simply cannot go back. Kazim acted like I'd done him a favour. He firmly believed me when I told him it was haunted, and he offloaded it as quickly as he could to some poor dupe from Bangladesh. Only a little digging showed me it was just another shell corporation. another shell corporation for a company he owned. I'm not sure he was as ignorant as he claimed. But then again, I'm not sure it even matters. In the end, I found an old passenger, a middle-aged woman who'd been there as a child. She seemed normal, or at least pretty normal. But when I made

mention of the hungry man, she lost all semblance of calm and fell into a total state of hysteria. A husband threatened me and forced me out, but I guessed that it wasn't that bothered me too much. It was the fact that a kid had started crying as well. And for the briefest of moments, I felt a shadow pass over me, and the room had grown a little darker. And I saw something, something in the corner of my eye. The kind of thing a mad person might even want to worship as a god. His gifts hurt. I remembered those words clearly.

whatever whatever had happened to those passengers I think they took a little of it back with them carrying it inside like a smuggled package back out into the real world

Thank you.