Sixth Sense of a Sixth Officer

Bonus/Extra Chapter - Chapter 11

(I wanted to add another chapter that focused more on the aftermath of Murdoch's death. I came up with this chapter after I had already concluded chapter 10 and printed the story out and I decided to add it in later as a bonus/extra chapter.)

Harold Bride was in his bunk in the Wireless Cabin. All of a sudden, a gunshot rings out and he shoots up from his pillow. "What the hell was that?!"  Phillips cries out from the adjoining room. Bride jumps out of bed and rushes out to the adjoining room, where he looks at Phillips, who looks back in response. "What the hell was that?!" Phillips said again, more quietly this time. In a moment of adrenaline, the two men rush out of the cabin and out onto the deck, just in time to see Officer Lightoller in a conversation with Mr. Andrews. "Mr. Lightoller?" Phillips asked, somewhat timidly. He had waited until their talk was over and when Lightoller was about to leave to speak up. The man turned to him, and both men could tell by the expression on his face that he was in no joking mood. Yet, he waited for a question, when really, he could easily just continue to walk off; but he didn't. "What happened?" Bride asked. "Don't worry about it right now. Mr. Andrews will enlighten you. You'll understand . Just... get back to your quarters." Lightoller said, beginning to walk away as he headed off towards the bridge. "...Was it having to do with Mr. Murdoch?" Bride said, unable to keep his curiosity at bay. "Just get back to your quarters, you two!" The man said, more sternly this time, and with that, he walked off. The two men looked after him before turning their attention to Mr. Andrews, who was now approaching. "I need a message to be sent out, if you will." "Yeah, yeah, of course." Phillips replied. The three went back to the Wireless Cabin. Instead of heading back into his bunk, Harold Bride stood in the main room, listening to whatever Mr. Andrews had to say. Meanwhile, Phillips sat down at the desk. The two men watched in silence as the Irishman wrote something down on a pad of paper. After he was done, he ripped the paper from the pad and handed it to Phillips. "I was instructed to send this out by Captain Smith. I'll tell you the true story afterwards, however the true story must not be released to the public. Understand?" He said. Phillips nodded and put the headset on. It was scary to see Mr. Andrews in such a serious mood, as he's a man who is always friendly and kind, always giving out a smile. There was another bit of silence as he tapped out the message.
"I was instructed to send this out by Captain Smith. Titanic's First Officer, Mr. William McMaster Murdoch, is unfortunately deceased due to illness. He perished this evening. This is all I was instructed to say. - Mr. Thomas Andrews, Architect of Titanic" 
With the message now sent out, the eyes of the two wireless men were on the Irish architect, waiting for him to explain. Where to begin?.. With a breath, Mr. Andrews explained it all. "Apparently, Mr. Murdoch had stabbed himself, or it could have been the doing of his other personality. To make a long story short really, as this was just what I've been told, medical assistance couldn't save him, but-" "Nothing against you, Mr. Andrews, but do you think I could take a spell at spinning the tale? I was there from the beginning after all." Mr. Andrews turned around to see Sixth Officer Moody. "Oh, Mr. Moody! Nice to see you!" Mr. Andrews said. He seemed to take a gander at the face of James Moody. His skin looked rather pale, and his eyes looked as if he was missing some needed sleep, an unusual contrast to the usual optimistic young lad that Moody was despite the many hardships he'd already been through in his young twenty-four years of life. "You look kinda feverish. You okay, lad?" The Irishman asked, being the kind and gentle soul that he always was. "Yes, I'm fine, Mr. Andrews. Thank you for your concern." The Irishman nodded, gave his thanks and left the room, presumably to make himself busy somewhere else. "Mr. Andrews was right. Mr. Murdoch had killed himself in an attempt to stop his devilish counterpart, and as Mr. Andrews said: he couldn't be saved. The only thing that was left was his other personality." "Wait, what do you mean by 'other personality'? I'm sorry, but we were never made aware of the specifics, really." Phillips said. "Yes, well, that problem with Mr. Murdoch is that he had a second personality inside his mind, which he called Murderous Murdoch. That's really the long and short of it." "So that was what was going on with Mr. Murdoch when he tried to strangle me?" Phillips questioned. "Basically, yes. Anyway, Captain Smith had to lay down the law, so to speak. And there wasn't really any other option or anyway out of it. We had to shoot him, and Lightoller pulled the trigger... it took him somewhat of a time to, but eventually he did so, and that's why he's under such distress at the moment." "He did seem to be under stress when we saw him not too long ago." Bride said. "How are you doing in the midst of all this?" Phillips asked Moody. Moody had his eyes on the floor, and his mouth open, trying to form his thoughts. "I'm... dealing with it the best I can, just like with everyone else who's been involved with this mess. Although, I must say, I think I had already envisioned what had happened, in a dream, I mean." "A dream?" Bride questioned. Moody then went on to tell them the dream he had and how similar it was to the actual event. Was it just a coincidence of a tired and overworked mind or was it an actual signal that what happened was going to happen all along? Was it supposed to be preventable or was it just inevitable? There was silence for a moment. "Anyways, I'm going to go get some rest. Farewell for now." James walked down the deck towards the bridge. "Hey," he looked up to see Lowe standing on top of Titanic's Officer's Quarters. "Harry, what are you up there?" "Not really doing anything really. Guess who is now promoted to Officer Murdoch's watch duty?" "So you're still Fifth Officer?" "Yep, and from what I hear you're taking over Officer Lightoller's watch duty until further notice. It shouldn't be long though, as I understand. Maybe just a day or two and Lights will be back." "Suppose he isn't though." Moody replied. "Anyway, where are you heading?" Lowe asked. "To my cabin. I'm getting some rest." "Alright, see ya later, Jim." Moody cracked a smile at that nickname. As Lowe got wrapped up in a conversation with another member of the crew, Moody continued to make his way down the deck. When he entered Titanic's Officer's Quarters, his eyes immediately went to the closed door of the cabin that once belonged to First Officer Murdoch, and the closed door of the cabin that belonged to Second Officer Lightoller. On the door of the First Officer's cabin, there was a note that said "not currently occupied". This note was repeated on the doors of the cabins belonging to the Third and Fourth Officers. Moody looked at Lightoller's closed cabin door. He wondered what the man was doing? He was probably sleeping to deal with his grief? Finally, Moody walked down the remainder of the hallway and into his own cabin. Walking in and closing the door behind him, Moody flopped down onto his bed and letting out a breath. 'It's all over' was the thought that stuck out in Moody's mind. Murderous Murdoch was gone, and in turn, so was William Murdoch. Herbert Pitman and Joseph Boxhall were gone, too. Captain Smith once had seven officers under his command; now, there were only four. Just like his previous nap a couple days prior, Moody fell into a second nap.
"I'm gonna have to rearrange my sleep schedule for the unforeseen future. Usually I would have already turned in two hours ago." Lowe said. It was ten in the evening, and true to Lowe's earlier words, Officer Lightoller did not show for his evening shift, so Moody stuck to the bridge. "You gotta do what ya gotta do!" Moody replied. "Yeah. You said Lights was a no show tonight?" Lowe asked. "Yep. Lord knows what kind of shit that man is still dealing with." Moody said. "Yeah, the bastard took it hard, but who can blame him? What he did was very hard, but he was brave, just as he usually would be. We just need to give him some time. He'll come around sooner or later." Lowe said. Even after he stepped up on the bridge platform, Moody still hung around for a bit as they continued to chat. "While Lights may still be in the hole of "talk to me and I will make your death slow and full of suffering", I feel sooner or later, he'll be back to his usual "quiet and strict maritime man whose sense of humor extends to practical jokes." "Yeah." Moody said, seeming to stare off into the black night. After a farewell, Moody heads off to the Officer's Quarters. "Rounds, James?" Lowe asked. "Huh?" "Aren't you gonna do your rounds? Or rather, Lightoller's rounds?" "Oh, yeah, I'll be out in a minute." Moody walked down the hallway, leading to his cabin, his throat in need of a refreshing glass of water. When he arrived at his door, there was a note taped upon it.

"Dear Mr. Moody,
I must thank you for filling in for me tonight. You and I both know we've all had our fair share of shit these last days, and after what happened with Mr. Murdoch, I just needed some time off. I should be better tomorrow, so I will be back to work by then. Regardless of my thoughts, I must push myself to the challenge to pull my weight and do my duties, as I know you have your own duties to attend to already. Things have changed a lot, but nevertheless, we have to accept it, adapt to it, and learn how to move forward. It will be hard, but we can do it. I say 'we'; not 'me' and not 'you; but 'we', as we are all in this together. And I must tell you, Mr. Moody, that ever since all this started, you've been quite a brave young lad. I mean that seriously from the bottom of my heart. I must thank you again for covering my work and for being so kind and understanding along with everyone else. Know that I'm proud of you for your bravery, as this has not been easy for any of us.
Charles Lightoller"

James smiled at the written note. Grabbing the note, he took it with him inside his room. Putting it down on the dresser and goes over to the washbasin where he grabs himself a glass of water, drinking the entire glass. After which, he exited the room again, heading back outside to do his rounds around Titanic's deck. The note from Lightoller laid peacefully next to one or two framed photographs of Titanic's officers.
Everything was finally over and everything was finally, at last, put to rest.

Life will go on. Yes, indeed. Life will go on.