Carrie watched seabirds spiral beyond the porthole glass from her quarters, tiny silhouettes skimming the glittering surface below. The ship’s engine pulsed through the floor, a heartbeat not her own. Salt air fogged the windows, obscuring the waves and the sky. She pressed her fingers against the cool glass, her eyes tracking the birds’ arcs. They moved with purpose, fierce and free, unlike her thoughts.
She sat on the bed, arms folded across her chest as if they might hold her together. The room held its silence, pierced only by the thrum of the ship and the caw of seabirds beyond the steel walls. It had been three weeks since she’d woken in the stranger’s presence—three weeks of stillness, no words, yet tension bound them like a thread stretched taut.
Despite not speaking his name, Carrie sensed a change in his look, as if he saw something she hadn’t noticed in her. Stillness reigned, not menacing, a forest’s calm before the storm.
Carrie wanted to keep her distance, but the man’s behavior disarmed her. He offered no words and did not intrude—just existed in that quiet space beside her, never pushing. His stillness, though calm, held a complexity she tried to interpret.
She had never known that kind of calm. In her hometown, acceptance was a foreign word. Teachers dismissed her, students mocked her, and home was no refuge. Her mother’s punishments came wrapped in scripture, a voice choked with righteousness. Carrie remembered the sting of being locked in the Prayer Closet after dropping a fork at dinner—a “lesson in humility,” her mother had said.
When her powers came, they surged like a breath held too long. For a moment, she had hope. Maybe she could change everything—reshape who she was, but Prom Night shattered that illusion. The blood, the lights, the screaming—it all burned in her memory. She vowed never to touch that part of herself again. She couldn’t trust it or herself.
After weeks of silence that wrapped the room like fog, Carrie cleared her throat. “Um… hey.”
The man didn’t move at first. His head soon tilted, eyes closed in meditation.
She shifted her weight, unsure. “I… I don’t know what to call you.”
One eye opened, gaze steady. “I have a name,” he said, “but it’s challenging. My friends call me Baki.”
Carrie blinked, caught by the word friends. “Baki.”
He nodded, then studied her, the silence stretching just enough to make her uncomfortable. “Still wondering why I helped you?”
Carrie drew back, fingers knotting in her lap. No one addressed her without pity or fear. Kindness came with strings or silence.
Baki exhaled, eyes unwavering. “I meant it—I couldn’t leave you there. When I brought you aboard, the captain was curious, but I told him you’d had a rough break. He saw it too and let you stay.”
Carrie backed up. “Wait… is this a kidnapping?”
He shook his head. “Call it a rescue.”
“And the authorities?”
“I’ll handle them. We’re crossing borders soon. I’ve got a visa. If they ask, I say you’re with me. They won’t question it.”
She frowned. “What’s a visa?”
“A permit that lets me live in another country.” He paused, then added, “Don’t worry. I know how to talk to people.”
Though uncertain, Carrie trusted Baki’s plan. Still, unease clung to her—questions she didn’t answer, shadows she didn’t identify.
Daylight thinned as the sun dipped behind the horizon. Its warmth faded from the deck. Shadows stretched across the ship as lanterns flickered to life, their glow no match for the dark that settled in.
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Killer Instinct: Carrie Unleashed
Fanfiction"You can only push a person so far before they break." The dark veil of the Black Prom Massacre still hangs heavy over Chamberlain, Maine. Everyone believes the tragedy's catalyst, Carrie White, is dead, but they are wrong. Barely clinging to life a...
