The sea was enraged. Foaming spray flung itself against my face as I scrambled up the rigging, my raw and blistered hands grasping at ropes that were barely visible in the dark haze of night. A blast of light lit the sky for a split second, and after it came the rumble of thunder and the screams of sailors below me. There had been mutiny. The Captain was sprawled on the deck, his throat gaping open. Blood trickled into the water around him and he lay silent in a lake of red. His eyes stared. Arnav was the one who had taken the Captain from his bunk and dragged him out to the lower decks where we were waiting. We had wanted recompense—the Captain was notorious for giving his sailors the slip once they reached land. As we neared the end of our journey, we wanted money; that was all. Arnav, a man as wicked as a fiend, wanted blood.

My hands slipped on the damp rigging, and I flung my arms and legs around the mast. The rough oak bit at my hands, and splinters slid into my palms, drawing blood. I could see the bottom of the Crow’s Nest. It was built on the foremast only a few feet above me. I gritted my teeth, positioned my feet against the wet wood, and pushed myself up. I grabbed onto a bit of rigging and I managed to swing myself high enough to grab the side of the Crow’s Nest. I toppled into the nest, and lay there panting for a moment. My arms began to ache with a searing fire that soon spread throughout my body. My skull seemed to split open and then merge back together.

When the painful surge of adrenaline subsided, I stood and looked over the edge of the nest to the deck below. Even in the dark of night, I could see that the ship was strewn with bodies and the decks were washed over and over with red waves that lapped at the hands and feet of dead sailors as they lay silent. With each murder, the water ran darker. When Arnav killed the Captain, we watched in horror as he made to throw the body overboard. But as Arnav looked into the ocean, the Captain’s corpse limp in his arms, the water began to boil. Great bubbles rose to the surface, and steam hissed as it curled upwards into the cold air. Then the sea began to rise in a great, torrid mass, slowly creeping up the sides of the ship.

Arnav let out a terrible scream of dread, and he dropped the Captain’s body on the deck and turned to run. He did not make it far before Flannerry and Slone caught him. I watched, stricken, as they hauled him towards the main deck. He struggled and shrieked, cursing them with threats that would never be carried out. Soon, they released their hold on him and Slone delivered a kick to his head that left him stunned for a moment. Slone held Arnav’s feet and hands together as Flannerry strangled him with the shrouds of the main mast. Then, they heaved his lifeless body into the boiling sea. The waters began to recede, bubbling and sputtering. As his body sank, I thought perhaps I saw his eyes snap open and his arm reach up towards the surface. But the black water quickly covered him, and the boiling sea became nothing more than a sailor’s tale.

Chaos broke out then, and I soon realized that I needed to flee. For Gethin, suddenly mad with some demon, slew Flannerry with a shiv hidden in his boot. And Slone killed Gethin in an even bloodier manner, and soon Slone was murdered as well. The insanity was spread. And it was unstoppable. I saw the daunting foremast and the shelter of the Crow’s Nest, and I ran for it.

I looked away from the line of bodies on the deck, and turned my attention towards the bow of the ship. I grasped the sides of the Crow’s Nest and my knuckles turned white. I saw the back of the Drowned Maiden Figurehead that rested at the very front of the ship. The figurehead was unique, one that was unlike that of any other ships. It was a girl with long wavy hair and a sad face. One of her arms extended from the ship, reaching forward as if to grasp the hand of someone far away.

I heard a yell below me and spun around to see the cook smashing an anchor into First Mate McKinley’s head. I saw red. My knees gave way and soon I was on the floor of the Crow’s Nest again. I felt horribly sick, as I had on the third day of my first voyage at sea. But I knew this was not seasickness. I forced myself to stand and I found my eyes drawn towards the Drowning Maiden. I thought I saw her hair rippling. Then, her wooden neck began to rotate, slowly, until her face was turned towards mine. Her lips curved up and her mouth opened into a wide and terrible grin. Her blank eyes turned black and murky and dark liquid began to pour out of them and down her face and then began to gush out of her open mouth, the drops of fluid swarming like cockroaches. I screamed in horror. I scrambled to get out of the Crow’s Nest, flinging myself out of it and hugging the mast. It began to slither underneath me, the wood morphing into rippling green scales. It waved and twisted like a great, monstrous serpent. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt rain start to pour over me. I began sliding down the mast, my terrified body not able to move fast enough to escape the vile awfulness I’d just witnessed. The ship was alive.

My exhausted arms could hold on no longer, and I lost my hold on the mast and crashed to the deck. My breath left me as soon as my body thudded against the rotting planks. I tried to draw in more breath, but all I could do was groan in agony as my head throbbed and my back ached. When at last I could breathe again, I lay on the ground, my body pulsing with adrenaline that gave me terrible cramps. I could not move for several minutes. The pain did subside, though, and when it did, I began to hear quiet sobs nearby. I stood, and followed the noise.

First Mate McKinley sat slumped against the main mast, a bloody anchor next to him, and a nauseating wound on the side of his head. I ran towards him, my stomach sick. His face was turned down, and his eyes were closed, but he was alive.

“McKinley…” I said, crouching down and putting a hand on his shoulder. His neck sprang up and his eyes snapped open. He looked at me with wild fright, and I knew he did not recognize me. “McKinley, it’s me, Devan.”

He stared at me but did not speak. His teeth chattered.

“What happened?” I asked, shaking him slightly when his eyes became unfocused. “Why did the cook try to kill you?”

He looked back at me and his face fell.

“I shouldn’t have done it.” He muttered, and his expression became frantic. “I shouldn’t have done it, but I saw such terrible things! I saw such horror!”

I could see the whites of his bloodshot eyes as they rolled in fear.

“What did you see?” I whispered, scared to hear the answer.

“The world was not right. I needed to kill him or it would never end!” McKinley cried. “I thought it would be over if he died, so I killed him, but oh God, it did not end!”

“What do you mean, it didn’t end?” I question franticly. McKinley winced in pain, and I realized he didn’t have much time left.

“I thought I would restore the balance if I killed him. But I’ve only added to the cause! And now they want to kill me.” He shrieked, tears, blood, and dirt streaming down his face as the rain began to fall harder. “As I struck him down, a great bolt of lightning flashed through the sky, but it did not disappear as all earthly light would. It stayed suspended in the sky. And as I looked upon ’t, the sails turned black as tar and began to drip on to the decks like liquid metal and soon it was upon me, smothering me. Oh, I have seen the Devil tonight. I have seen him with my waking eyes!”

McKinley let out a gasp and fell silent, and his head lurched along with the roll of the waves beneath the boat. I got up and turned to leave him, but he was not yet gone. His hand clutched my arm and pulled me back. I looked into his face and saw a wild madness in his dying eyes. His breath wheezed out as he began to speak.

“There will be more blood tonight. There will be blood tonight, and the night after, and for all nights to come.”

And with that, his hand fell limply at his side and his eyes rolled back into his head. I left him propped against the mast. I threw myself into the lifeboat that hung on the starboard, and cut the ropes free. The little boat plunged into the water and smacked against the waves. It managed to stay upright and I helped guide it away from the ship as quickly as possible. The angry waves were fierce and choppy but they did not keep me prisoner. They let me escape with my life. I left the last of the sailors to their fates, for after the things I’d seen, there was no way I could willingly stay on that mortal ship. Such a terrible tempest I had never seen before, and I hope to never see again.