Assorted Ancient Texts

Generic Pompeii Fantasy Story - Part Three

He woke up to sweltering heat. Coughing on nothing, he floundered for a can of water and stabbed it open. It was drained in a heartbeat. There was no wind as the sun beat down on the small boat. It was too hot to sit outside, but too stuffy and humid to lounge in the cabin. Most of the day was spent trying to get any water he could out of the cabin and flinging it onto the deck, where it rolled into the sea. He continued scooping handfuls of water with the empty water can and flinging it over his shoulder until the sun set and burned the sky into a red hue. He began to wonder if the water in here was his own sweat.

Much needed cool air and bright stars filled the dark night sky. The wind picked up a little and began to gently rock the boat as small swells spread to the horizon. He had no idea where he was going. He did not know how to use a sextant, compass, or map, and he could only find the last two in the cupboards of the boat. His father had taught him how to use them once – as if he would remember, though. He tried to pump water out of the sink but found it to be seawater. The pipes must run right through the bottom of the boat.

He spent most of the night studying the map. The entire world on the parchment was the three main inhabited mountain islands, now active volcanoes. There were dozens of small islands all around the map but they ranged from as small as his boat to as large as a town at most. They were uninhabited. The edges of the map were covered with illustrations of storms and sinking ships. No one ever left the islands and sailed through the storms to ever return – and many had tried. The only ones who had sailed into the storms and returned had never reached a point where the storm stopped and returned with stories of massive waves as tall as mountains and the like. He began to wonder if he had crossed it. There were no signs of land in all directions, but there was one point on the map that was empty ocean for dozens of miles around. Either he was stuck in that point or he had crossed the Ring, as he heard other sailors call it. The Cursed Ring.

He finished his day's ration of food wondering what day it even was anymore and looked outside to see the moon rising. The setting sun gave it a orange glow – a blood moon. It was smaller than the sun, but large enough to see among the stars. He saw a flash of light on the horizon. It was small, but it was there. It was a lightning storm way out on the horizon, most likely. He figured it was the Ring, and pondered letting the sails down again. It was far away, but it was neither behind or in front of him. It was on the starboard side and took up only half of the horizon. He stared at his foot and decided to let the sails catch the wind. He was extremely tired from the hot day.

Lighting shattered his eardrums as he jumped out of the bunk. He had fallen asleep! Rain poured on the little boat and battered his window as he nearly threw up. The boat was rocking violently. He thought of the sails and quickly stood up to go and bring them down. He stepped up onto the deck and stopped. He heard something. It was a voice. It was many voices, all singing in a constant note. It was just quiet enough to hear over the fury of howling wind and rain. He looked around for the source of the choir but saw nothing in the limited distance that he could see.

And just like that, the singing stopped. The rain instantly stopped falling. The wind died down as the lightning just stopped. Nothing remained but a slowly rolling ocean and dark clouds. A light under the ocean illuminated the sky. A blue light. It slowly passed him by a few hundred feet port-side before it dimmed and disappeared in a dive deep into the ocean depths. The rain fell hard and hit him like several buckets of water. He clambered to the sails as the wind slammed into him and knocked him over. Lightning erupted like an angry god in the dark and evil skies above him.

He pulled the sails down as hard as he could as they whipped around in the hurricane winds. Water splashed over him so cold it hurt down to his bones. Its almost as if the sea was angry he was there as it tormented him with torrents of icy water and slammed his body with billowing winds. He stuffed the sails under a hatch on the deck and stomped it shut until it would stay closed. He thought he heard the choir of voices again but it was just his mind playing tricks on him, he reassured himself.

He had no idea what he saw, but he also had no idea if it would come back. He climbed back into the cabin and shut the door, opening a window a little bit for air. Shivering and drenched in the cold water, he tore the sheet off the bunk into a makeshift towel. He started to cry in fear as he thought about his situation. He was alone. He was starving and thirsty. He was lost. He got up to get another can of water and stopped. He heard a voice. It was familiar.

"Nathan?"

He flew up the steps and shouldered the door to the cabin open, "Mom!"

Hurricane winds slammed him to the deck as the boat reeled onto its side. He rolled over the wooden deck and grabbed onto the railing as his legs dipped into the sea. The sheets were lost to the water as it washed over him sending him back onto the boat sputtering with the wind knocked out of him. The boat reeled the other way and he didn't have the energy to move. He held onto the railing and let the boat nearly level out as the swells threw his little ship wherever they wanted to. He gathered his strength and held himself up by the railings, looking out for the source of the voice that had called him.

Lightning flashed and flickered moving silhouettes of waves and clouds on the horizon. One flash illuminated a massive shadow on the edge of the sky. He stared intently as the lightning took its time before flashing again. It looked like a mountain. He crawled over to the tiller with newfound energy and began to adjust it when he heard a deep roar even louder than the deafening wind howling around him. He looked back at the mountain and watched it as the lightning flashed again. It was getting bigger. It was getting closer.

He became a deer in the headlights as the monstrous ocean began to bend down into a massive valley. This wasn't a mountain – it was a wave! He clambered over to the cabin and fell down the steps as the ship dropped into the sunken valley in a near freefall. Water sloshed up against the walls of the cabin as he held on to the bunk with everything he had. The boat began to slowly roll to the left before he screamed. The cabin completely flipped over and tumbled as everything in the cabin hit him like bricks and the boat became inverted. The last thing he saw was the hull tearing in two as he lost consciousness.