When life, as it was on the glorious ship, forms into a constant nightmare, the occasional dream - a distant land of utopia - provides an escape to the tormented. Unfortunately, for the Assist, and for everyone else the ship held, dreaming was a fantasy. The longer one stayed, the harder it was to separate their reality from their imagination. Soon, they were one. The violent images burned into their minds, they would see them everywhere. In the most beautiful things the eye could see at sea, they would see the worst. The distressing noises, the burning smell following them wherever they went. Birds chirping morphed into screeches. The salty sea would leave a member sick to their stomach. The feelings of isolation brought about by empty skies were unnerving, the soft breeze now felt like the icy stiff fingers of the dead calling you to join them in the afterlife. Even in the temporary comfort of the night, when their eyes shut and their bodies relaxed, it haunted them, creeping slowly and wickedly into their only escape.
Life at day was a nightmare, and night was so too.
In the forbidden hours of the night, floating freely in the tight space of her mind, the Assist believed she was having another one of those. The nightmares. She could not see, but she could hear. The banging, shouting, chanting. The vibrations of the force of the stampede, the submersion under water. The banging...and the chanting...
With a sudden inhale, the Assist shot up in her chamber. Noticing her wet fingertips, she glanced to the ground where her arm extended to in her sleep. Water, everywhere. Not another thought could force its way into her brain as she ran out, following the distant chants. Everything was sped up, it seemed, to a level hard to comprehend anything that happened around her. Members barged passed her, passed each other, and she too barged passed them. The rough movement of the water almost equal in intolerable volume to the chaos, the roaring and cheering. The Assist managed to find a corner hidden from the main centre where the crowd seemed to huddle.
'Assigner, Supply', the Assist understood of their chant. She closed her eyes and concentrated on their words.
'Assigner, Supply
Our revolutionaries, our ally
The bringers of peace
The bringers of justice
Forced to be Eve
Sons of greatness'
Just when the members erupted yet again in roars and bellows, the great ship jerked to its left. The Assist crashed into the wall before grabbing onto a rail, stabilising herself. Her head was throbbing, her eyes struggled to focus on the scene before her. 'Revolutionaries'? What on earth were they saying? She knew, but she was not ready to accept. Standing as straight as she could on the wet floor, the Assist did what she knew best.
"Members! Assume order on this ship, that is an order!"
Her messy hair stuck to her face, she could only draw shaky breathes. She knew. The members hammered their cups on the tables, chanting again and again; 'Assigner, Supply, our revolutionaries...' The Assist inhaled deeply, she began to repeat her orders. Instantly, the ship jerked again. A deep, course sob escaped the Assist's mouth. Her hand flew to cover her lips, a endless pit of shame formed simultaneous to the immense gratitude she had for the concealment of her mistake by the unraveling of order on the ship. Finding her footing again, a clear sight of the members in the official offices settled on her as she witnessed the destruction of the papers and bureaucracy that kept the ship afloat.
In the sea of sharks, she could not find the supposed heroes of the members. The Assigner and the Supply. Neither was the Fixer anywhere in sight.
She could not bear to witness any more of it. Turning to the wall, the Assist rested on her forehead. Empty, and yet relieved. Whether she went down with the ship, whether, to the members, she was one of them or the very entity they were against, she was okay with her end. No, she was ready for it. But there was still one thing she was, loyal to her Captain. If anything, it should be the very hour of her demise, and the demise of the system she ranked so highly in, that she should remain loyal. And so, she pushed her way to the steps leading to the hatch. Not bothering with the bell, she used the little will she had left to push the heavy doors of the hatch, exposing herself to the sparkle of the night stars.
In front of the Captain, she stood; disheveled and truly unfit as Assist. 'Sir', she greeted him, 'Sir, I've come to warn you. Captain, there is something serious happening downstairs.'
'Is that so?' The Captain quickly rebutted in a fear inducing calm tone.
'Sir, I believe there is talk of a revolution. There is talk of a revolution.'
The Assist had ran out of air to inhale due to her panicked fast pace, expectedly awaiting the response of her superior. But he did not respond.
'Sir?', she tried again,'Sir, there is talk of a revolution.'
'My Assist,' he proceeded to begin after a short while, 'There was once a young man, too eager and ambitious for this world. The famous tale of his life, which I know you know, is one to be told generations after generations. Smart, careful, prepared, willing. To do anything, whatever it took to fulfil that disgusting scratch within, the one that invaded one's mind and soul if not reached. They say his piercing blue eyes where gifted to him from the one who paid the highest price for his soul, a generous act for a precious thing like no other.'
This Assist sighed in frustration. There was an imminent revolution, certainly, she thought, that was significantly more important than her Captain's stories.
The Captain continued, 'You, my Assist, from the very beginning have attempted to achieve a level of greatness equal to that of the blue eyed devil. You, my Assist, have not been loyal. To the ship, to the members, to your role, to me! To your Captain. He would never allow for that. For the Captain's Assist to orchestrate, develop and lead a revolution under his nose! He would never leave that unpunished!'
The Assist stumbled back. Orchestrate? Develop? Lead!?
The Captain dramatically turned, facing, for the first and last time, to his Assist. She stared, terror freezing her body, into her Captain's piercing blue eyes. Slowly, her eyes lowered to the black barrel that stared right back at her. Her breathing stopped. The Captain cried out his last sentence.
'There's only one punishment for disloyalty!'
YOU ARE READING
Sir, There's Talk of a Revolution
Mistério / Suspense*** When a young woman's hopes and dreams of becoming a part of the infamous, mighty ship under the command of its world-renowned Captain had come true, she did not expect to join a collapsing, chaotic society where ugly emotions and actions had bec...
