Offshore

Chapter 3: Boat Trip

After about half an hour, mostly everyone was trying to keep undercovers from the cold wind rushing through the boat. Ringo however did not seem to feel the biting chill and sat near the edge of the ship, staring down the far-off and misty mainland. His gaze remained unwavering as the speeding wind grazed his face. Ben approached him, "Are you not cold?"
"Cold is symbolic of fear, something I must abolish heading through this place," Ringo replies,
"Maybe we won't run into anything too bad, it could be just a straight safe path" Ben suggests, Ringo turns to him to give him the sort of look you give when someone is being badly ironic.
"I've seen the wounds people bring back, and they're like nothing seen from the old world. Hideous black slop seeping out of the gashes, the skin polluted with some unknown infection. Survivors had to be amputated, if not, they went mad with pain and requested we killed them, as it would be more merciful than existence."

Ben felt horrified. Horrific gashes oozing black goop? What type of beast could do such a thing? He couldn't even picture what a thing like that would look like, is it big? Small? Does it have claws or fangs? But then Ringo answered his unspoken question.

"They described the beasts as sort of jagged looking, made of hard rock and with volcanic pillars sticking from their back, soaking them in the sludge, leaving a trail of the most vile smelling liquid with a consistency of... maybe tar? Or Honey. Different accounts say either. But anyone who ever got a good look at its face was mauled beyond saving, with their entire face disfigured, leaving them unrecognizable."

Ben didn't have a response to this. He had never really thought about the true, indescribable danger presented by the mainland. They stay quiet for almost the rest of the ride. Ben sat and thought. He hadn't really asked yet why the others wanted to go to the mainland, assuming it was just the same as him; curiosity. But the more he thought about it, the less he made out the others as 'curious'. He thought about Ringo, what his intentions were with this place, how he even knew about the injuries of the scouter teams, and what is he searching for? 

The boat whirrs on, It's a while until Russel blurts out over the boat microphone,
"LAND HO, off in the distance, out in the fog!" Everyone looks up from their blankets and coats.
"Holy crap, he's right, we're nearly there!" Ramona shouts, "YAHOO"
"Finally, it's bloody freezing out here," Harold remarks.
Ramona jumps up out of her cover and starts dancing with glee for about two seconds before rushing back to her blanket realising how cold it is. The boat continues at a steady pace for the next 20 minutes, then the group hears a sputter.

"Hey guys, black water is normal around the shore, right?" Russel questions, swinging out the cockpit door.
"No, this is bad, very very bad- EVERYONE GET IN THE COCKPIT!" Ringo shouts with urgency, and with the things he had just discussed, Ben had great belief that whatever just arose was very, very bad.

"How the hell are we all meant to fit inside that tiny cockpit?" Harold asks calmly.
"I DON'T BLOODY KNOW, BUT IF WE DON'T WE ARE SCREWED, Y'HEAR ME?" Ringo shouts, getting slightly aggravated now. Everyone tries their hardest to squeeze inside the tiny box, Russel ending up precariously standing on top of the control board. 
"Everyone stay unbelievably silent, slow, delicate breaths" Ringo instructs, 
"Russel, could you turn around and close the metal blinds?" Russel nods and pulls down the shutters.

A loud thunk jumps on the boat, it rocks the entire vessel and suddenly fear begins to rise up all of them. Ben tenses up, his muscles seize and lock into place, this moment is the most scared he has ever felt in his life. It was like a whole wave of Déjà vu. Like he'd been in this situation before. Ben was a rather cautious person most of the time. He didn't do terribly stupid things, despite that he was also a very curious person. But before now he recalled only one moment to match this utter fear he has at this moment;

It was at night. A long time ago, when Benjamin was only about 11 years old. He had snuck back into the house from a late day out, very late, the time he remembered must've been past midnight at least. He snuck through the backdoor, a flicked on the lights in the kitchen. The tile floor was coated in a thick black sludge, bubbling like it was sizzling. Ben walked over and poked it with a wooden spoon, and the sludge latched on and tried to almost eat the spoon like acid. Ben also noticed the sludge went along a line out from his kitchen. He followed the path out into his living room, where it had melted to the carpet, and then he saw it lead into the laundry.

The cat's bed sat in the laundry, Ben started to worry. He entered to see large hand prints in that same ooze on the sides of the bed cage. Ben rushed over to check inside, it was completely filled with the black sludge. 

Ben starts to hyperventilate.

The cat was gone, and Ben had no idea what to do. He walks outside the laundry, and from outside he hears a large thud, in a rhythm similar to walking. Scared, Ben dashed under the couch, barely able to fit with his tiny size at the time. The thud got closer, and closer. Every second shot more fear into Benjamin's mind. The backdoor swung open, and Ben held his breath. A growl came from the kitchen as the fly-screen door slammed against the wall. The sounds walked around Ben, but it was too low for him to really see anything. He then heard a defeated meow, and Ben thought what'd happened to the cat. He thought about crawling out to see what it was, maybe a thief? Suddenly, a vase fell over next to the couch Ben was under, and he gasped, Just briefly, but at that moment the growling paused. It started to sniff around, and it got a bit closer and closer to Ben. Huge and slimy claws reached under the couch and gripped on its edges.

The cell phone from his bag started to ring, and the thing left the couch presumably to go back to the kitchen where Ben had left his bag. He took this opportunity to very quickly crawl out the bed and run to the staircase at the back of the room, out of the creature's sight. That morning Ben convinced himself that, despite feeling realer than anything, the events were merely a nightmare. 

But now he was certain. Nightmares are never so vivid, and how could he remember it so well if it was? Ben was positive he'd encountered such a thing before. Right outside was the creature of his worst nightmare. The loud thuds crossed over to the other side, and Ben could hear some rattling. Before long, silence had fallen, however, that silence was not short. A dreadful several minutes passed before any of them were certain the creature was gone.

But then Ben heard heavy breathing, and he was certain it wasn't any of his friends. A loud slam hit the metal door, it made them flinch. Then it hit the door again, and again, quite fast, it was trying to break open the door. Ringo was holding the handle in place to try not to let the door slip open, and Ben could see the sweat dripping off him.

Thunk, Thunk, over and over. And then it stopped, and dead silence ensued. It didn't feel long before a large splash in the water was heard to the left, and Harold let go of his breath.
"HA, that was... something" He exhaled and Ringo let the door open. 
All the water up to the mainland had suddenly become clear again, and all observation suggested the creature had given up. The rest of the trip went flawlessly, and arriving onto the shore had little fanfare after what they'd just experienced.

Ben wasn't as sure about what he was doing anymore. He was in a new and very much threatening environment, and he was very, very scared.