by Kell Inkston
Grancis cringes in shock— The Captain must have interpreted her advice about sweet-things literally; oh joy.
Colette stares forward dully. “… What… the hell?” she repeats even more emphatically.
Grancis nudges Colette. “Uh… you… you kicked those guy’s butts! They were so impressed!” Grancis says with a wide, fake grin.
Colette rubs her face. “I did?… I thought I… I don’t know. My head hurts… Weren’t they going to kill us?”
The Captain waves his arms out as if he were shouting 'surprise!'. “Not at all! It was all just a test to see if you had the guts to join my crew, my dear—dear... apple strudel!” he says in an excited, put-on voice.
Colette smiles, her eye twitching at The Captain’s exceedingly strange behavior.. “Nice… Guess that time in the pit paid off.”
The Captain’s not sure what the hell Colette’s talking about, but it’s definitely the right answer. “Oh yes! Grancis told me all about it!”
Colette looks over to a smiling Grancis. “She… did?”
“Yes! You were so brave and crazy, the guys that came to help the guys that had previously come to help the original guys you were fighting could barely get you to stop. You’re definitely Nocturna material!” The Captain says amidst a nod from Grancis.
“Nocturna?” Colette asks, unsure if the term is a noun, a verb or an adjective.
“Oh yes, certainly! Grancis told me all about your ambitions. You want to join the crew, don’t you?”
Colette squints an eye weakly. “The… crew?”
“Yes, you know, a group of people that sail across the Eversea in search of wealth, fame, and respect! It’s just the thing that would turn you from a great fighter to an incredible one!”
Colette’s silent a moment as she processes the information. “What’s sailing? What’s the Eversea?”
The Captain looks over to Grancis, who sighs. “Uh, you weren’t there for that class either, I guess,” Grancis says. “Really large bodies of water are called ‘seas’ and ‘oceans’. People ‘sail’ on them to get around. It’s traveling across water.”
Colette draws back in shock. “Like the lake?”
Grancis smirks. “Y-yeah. Like the lake south of town.”
Colette slams her fist into the table. “Alright! Will there be danger?”
The Captain nods.
“Adventure?”
Another nod.
“Peril and enemies and magic and all that cool shit?”
Yet another nod.
“Nice!” Colette suddenly perks up to full energy despite a splitting headache. “I’m in!”
The Captain smiles under his bandages in a way that Colette finds exciting, and Grancis finds… discomforting. “Excellent. Welcome to the Magic Ship Nocturna, ladies. I’m the captain, The Captain.”
“Huh?” Colette sputters bluntly.
Grancis nudges Colette. “It’s a title and a name, apparently.”
“Oh," she nods slowly. "Alright. So when do we go?”
The Captain scoffs. “First daylight. You both can sleep in this inn.”
Colette squints an eye as she looks around. “Wait… where did everyone go?”
The Captain smiles again. “Obviously I sent them away. I can’t have their gallivanting disturbing the recruitment process.”
Colette nods, suddenly impressed with The Captain’s official sway. “Alright, well then I guess we're set.”
The Captain presents his hand. “I didn’t catch your name, cupcake.”
Colette takes The Captain’s hand and shakes. “Colette Ketiere, sir. I look forward to training under you.”
“Tra-… Uh, well, alright then, Jobber Colette. I look forward to training you.”
At that, the three conclude the meeting, The Captain leaves to do something Captainly elsewhere in the port, and Colette picks out the biggest room in the inn to sleep in with Grancis in the second bed, while Grancis locates a change of clothes that fits her and won't make her look like a prostitute.
Once settled, Colette and Grancis stare at the ceiling of the dark room— only lit by the faint, slight rays of the streetlights below.
Colette takes a breath. “Well, it looks like everything’s going… alright.”
“… Yeah," Grancis murmurs, "I guess it is…. Are you okay?”
Colette smirks with a mix of intensity and chipperness. “Never better. Can’t believe just this morning I woke up in the village— and now here we are, going to head off tomorrow.”
Grancis smiles as well, if only because Colette’s satisfied. “What do you think tomorrow’s going to be like?”
“Mmm, not sure; could be anything.”
“Yeah, I guess so….” Grancis searches the ceiling, as if it has the answer she’s been looking for as to The Captain’s intentions. “Hey, Colette?”
“Yeah, Gran?”
“Never change, alright?”
Colette endorses the silence a moment. “Uh, sure, alright.”
“Good,” Grancis says. She doesn’t believe her, but she doesn’t feel like there’s anything she can do about it now.
Colette bites her lip. “Are you okay?”
Grancis sighs. “Yeah, I’ll get by.”
“Good…” Colette nudges the foot of Grancis’ bed with her toes. “Hey, we’re doing a great job, alright? We’ll be fine. A year from now we’ll be done, okay?”
Grancis snuggles under the covers, perhaps the only things in this dark, angry world that really cares for her safety. “Okay.”
At that, the two ladies surrender to sleep— Colette filled with wild, burning dreams of adventure, treasure, and revenge, and Grancis filled with nightmares about getting assaulted in an alleyway, the criminals to be interrupted by something far worse, and far more interesting. Grancis has trouble sleeping for the first time in years.
An Uneventful Departure
The two ladies are roused immediately when The Captain bursts into the room accompanied by a short, bluish- brown fish man with a little light dangling upon his head like a fishing lure. Colette thinks he looks like a giant idiot, but Grancis thinks he’s pretty adorable, like he’d be a good stuff animal or something. “Come with me,” The Captain instructs. Colette bursts from the covers ready for action, while Grancis slumps out like an octopus that's had too much to drink.
“Time to go?” Colette asks with stars in her eyes.
The Captain steps up to the window and peeks out to the street. “It certainly is.” He turns to the angler-fish seasort. “Luisoix.”
Luisoix salutes. “Sir!” He exclaims, his gleaming teeth shining in the light of the deep night.
“You know this city well. What route would you recommend?”
“I’d suggest the house-alley through the red-light district, sir. It’s a well-kept secret— so I doubt they’d expect us to know, or even know of it themselves.”
“They?” Colette asks outwardly.
The Captain squints under his bandages. “The red-light district? Luisoix,” he addresses, placing his hands on his hips contemptuously.
His salute sharpens. “Yes, sir?”
“These girls are too young to observe such filth. I should have known better than to take the suggestions of a perverted degenerate like yourself.”
Luisoix almost flinches in an upwelling of indignation. “With all due respect sir we’re taking them on as crew. They’re going to see way worse.”
“And?”
“The Eversea, sir?”
The Captain stares at Luisoix as if he hadn’t said a thing. “Truly, Luisoix. Your mind’s gone straight to the gutter… mm... but actually…”
“S-sir! Captain, no!”
The Captain snaps his bandaged fingers as he dismisses the fish-man's plea. “The sewer system, yes! They wouldn’t dare follow us there! This way!” The Captain waves the three along into the dark hall and down the stairs.
“Sir! That’s a terrible idea! Humans, with normal, human souls, in the
sewer? Have you gone ma-” Luisoix stops the second The Captain cracks his knuckles. Luisoix salutes again. “… Rodger, dude.”
The Captain smiles as they go down to the basement of the tavern; it's littered with raw, separated body parts, and piles of soul gems like the one the necromancers had threatened the girls with. “Alright— now if you’re finished with your unacceptable behavior, you can go take these ladies through the sewers to port three,” he instructs. He begins looking over all of the soul gems and stuffing them into every place on his person that he’s able.
Luisoix groans, taking a peek toward the basement’s manhole, which is covering a lurid green light, pulsing nefariously in anticipation of human prey. “I… It would be insane enough if you were going with us, Captain; but just me? Ridiculous!”
The Captain places his hand on Luisoix’s shoulder. “I trust you, Luisoix. You’ll be a fine human trafficker,” The Captain says with an encouraging, fatherly tone.
Grancis cringes and Colette taps Luisoix. “Come on, man. We can take it!” she says with clueless excitement.
The Captain leans in. “Oh, yes, come on, Luisoix! Human trafficking~ human trafficking~ huma-” The Captain chants on and Colette joins in the fun. Grancis smiles in the kind of way one would if she were trying to be nice and be supportive while watching her friend embarrass herself for life.
Luisoix caves. “Alright! Dammit! You guys are garbage!” He opens the lid, uncovering the evil light completely— and after a few deep breaths, hops in to descend the ladder. “Come on… and stay close for fuck’s sake!”
Colette almost bounces in excitement before her shoulder’s taken by The Captain. He hands her the strange metal device that he bestowed on Grancis just hours earlier. “Do you know how to use one?”
She looks down at the revolver with a bewildered stare. “S-sure I do!” She takes it and stuffs it into her pocket. Grancis holds her tongue, certain that Colette would hold it against her if she were to object. The two girls follow along with Luisoix, leaving The Captain to stuff every last filled soul gem into his many-pocketed officer’s coat.
Seconds later, a group of men smash into the basement. The front-most man— young, handsome and indignant—flips his moody white locks. “Captain,” he says with a smoldering coo.
The Captain’s bandages curl up in a grin. “Why, if it isn’t the dear young head of the constabulary, our very own Vangair.”
The men prepare their rifles— all of them with an arcane blue glow centered in the barrels. “I’ll save myself from reading off everything you’re wanted for, Reaper.”
“It’d be morning by the time you finished, I suppose.” The Captain says this as if he weren’t proud of it in the least.
The dashing head of the police growls. “Your days out of bars are numbered, criminal. Mayor Irefall will see you now.”
The Captain scoffs. “I’m far too busy to change a grown woman’s diapers, sir. I’ll do no such thing.” He steps a notch to the manhole as he grabs one last thing— the main reason he came here: a little golden box with a bevy of sunken gods depicted upon it. He shouldn’t have waited this long to pick it up to begin with, but there’s a lot on his mind. “Good evening, gentleme-”
“Fire!” The chief commands. Just as a barrage of enchanted lead fires from the rifles, The Captain descends the hole in the blink of an eye, hurtling into the glowing green madness below. The group of men hesitate, and then the chief smacks the front-most aside. “I’ll lead the way—stay close.”
Elsewhere, Luisoix and the two ladies are knee-deep in glowing, whispering sewer waste. “Uh, right,” a now surface-calm Luisoix says, leading the two through a crossroads. Their pace is fast— as quick as one could go in water that seeps and grasps at your legs with what feels like human hands just barely concealed in the oozing waste.
“So, heh,” Colette coughs. She’s enjoying this much less than she expected. “Why is the water talking?”
“You don’t want to know,” Luisoix replies.
Colette frowns. “And why do we need to move so fast? The Cap’s got the people chasing us, right?”
“You don’t want to know,” he says again.
“Well… at least you’re tough, right? Creepy shit li-”
She stops herself, seeing Luisoix shake his head while rounding the next corner. “Not even remotely… shit.” Luisoix stops, causing Colette to nearly trip into the shifting green waste. Everyone’s quiet for a moment as Colette spots a tremor escape Luisoix’s body. “Just relax... don’t turn around.” he warns.
“Wh-what’s up?” she asks.
“Quiet.” Luisoix is staring down the new hall with wide, horrified, focused eyes. There’s nothing down the hallway except more sewage; at least, it looks as though there’s nothing. Very slowly he reaches into his coat and pulls out a jar of salt. “Now back up with me. Keep looking forward.” Grancis makes way for Colette, who makes way for Luisoix; he undoes the cap to the jar and starts spreading the salt in front of his self as he steps back in time with the other two.
“Uh, what the hell are you doi-”
“Shut up, jobber.”
Colette mutters something under her breath in a mix of discomfort, anger, and bewilderment as the three step all the way back into the intersection.
Luisoix sighs in enormous relief. “Thank. The. Gods. That would've been it if I'd 've been salt-less.” Colette just stares on in some form of disbelief and looks over to Grancis, who shrugs. “Alright, we’ll take a detour. This way.” He leads the two along down another path through the sewers.
"Hey," Colette gives his shoulder a persistent tap.
Luisoix sighs again, this time in annoyance. “Yes?”
“What the hell was that back there?”
“I’m not joking— you really would regret it if I told yo-”
“THE FLESH OF THE GLINT! WE HUNGER FOR THE SKULLS OF MAN!” a mildly imposing voice resounds. By 'mildly imposing' of course, what I actually mean to say is 'terrible beyond a common soul’s wildest reckonings'.
“What… was that?” Colette asks, the sound of the voice alone causing a churn in her stomach.
Luisoix, eyes again wide with terror, starts running forward as he take out his jar of salt. “Impossible… Im-possible! This is…” He tastes some of the white crystals in the jar. “This is sugar!”
“What does that mean?” Colette asks as she and Grancis pick up the rear.
Luisoix is fervent, almost foaming at the mouth. “BORIS, YOU LOBSTER-ASS MOTHER FU-”
“THE FLESH OF THE GLINT! OPEN FOR CORRUPTION AND ABANDON YOUR HOPES!” the something screams as it rounds the corner to their hall.
“NOT LIKE THIS HOLY SHIT!” Luisoix screams and runs down through the sewage like a madman.
“What is i-” Colette was foolish enough to peek behind them. A force of long, pulsing, tooth-covered tentacles— claws and snake-like arms along with some… other things— slithers toward them, convulsing in murderous excitement. “Ohh, uhh..... yeah,” she murmurs awkwardly, entering a full sprint. The trio storms down the hall, rounding only a few corners before the abomination is upon them.
“We’re gonna make it! We’re only seconds away from the exit!” Luisoix cries… just as Grancis trips on a root that looks strangely like one of the abomination’s many limbs.
“Colette!” Grancis reaches to take her friend’s hand. As Colette reaches out to grasp it, she watches the beast pull one of Grancis' legs out from under her, the teeth hooking into her flesh. In a blink, her best friend is plunged into the sewage and pulled down the hall.
“No!” Colette panics, snaps out The Captain’s revolver, and… pauses to struggle with the foreign contraption. “Ahhh! How the hell does this thing wo-”
“Give me that!” Luisoix interrupts, swiping the gun from Colette and shooting with professional aim. The target’s constantly moving though, and the threat of hitting Grancis is perturbingly high.
*BANG…BANG* One hit and one miss: not en
ough to stop the tentacle. Grancis disappears around the side of hall, and silence overtakes the sewer.
“GRANCIS!” Colette leaps forward for a sprint. “HURRY, WE’VE GOT TO-”
"No!" Luisoix catches his arms around her chest and heaves her back. “She’s gone! There’s nothing we can do about it now!”
“But we can still get her! Please! Let me try!”
“No!”
Colette starts elbowing Luisoix, who’s really not in the mood for that tonight.
“Then get the fuck away from m-”
He smashes the butt of the revolver against the side of her head, causing her to buckle in pain. “Stupid girl! Human crew mates are the worst! So damn ignorant! There’s no way in any hell that we can get her back from that thing.” He spins her around to look her in the eyes. “It was either her or all of us. We both know what the best decision was. Now come on!”
Colette spares a final look in-between wails to commit the moment to memory. “It won’t be in vain, Gran,” she mutters in cold loss before she follows Luisoix.
Grancis, fully conscious, feels herself being pulled through the muck for nearly a minute— struggling to grasp onto something, anything to give her a fighting chance. Nothing provides itself. She is pulled first through a set of pipes just large enough to accommodate a young, vulnerable human-being into the lair of one of the sewer’s many inhabitants—and then into a much darker place, the sewer’s second level, where only the most rotten, most disease-ridden matter accumulates. Across a long bed of skeletons, both human and non, lies a great, burning eye— as large as an elephant, every centimeter of its body taken up with long, hooked, jagged black teeth. She looks upon it, and for some reason she cannot believe what she’s seeing. It’s so unlikely, so anti-everything she’s witnessed in her life, as if it were something conjured up in an alternate realm of human torment, something purely for the sick satisfaction of its dark master.
Her body feels pulled from its very essence, as if she’s suddenly become aware of how her soul feels once it's being torn in two. As another tentacle grabs hold to secure her movement, she looks over the multitude of crimsoned skeletons and oozing corpses impaled on the army of spikes. She realizes this isn’t going to be a quick death— rightly so, this creature does not need to eat her physical form. The teeth are not for chewing, simply for causing elongated, mind-breaking suffering.