The sky was dark and foreboding as the Misty Maiden sailed through the Devil's Fury Sea. The coal and iron ore aboard the ship were kept in the cargo holds. The captain and crew were looking forward to another smooth sail to the port.
No one expected the calm weather to change instantly, not even the pragmatic and experienced Captain Trenton Chapman. He watched the sea from the deck of the Misty Maiden, his hands clasped behind his back.
After a while, he walked into the pilothouse. His crewmates sat together around a small table, swapping stories of ghosts and sea monsters, to take their mind off the mysterious weather change.
Trenton ignored them. He sat at his desk, pulled out his leatherbound journal from the drawers and picked up a pen. Then one of the crew asked, "Capt'n, you think ghosts walk these waters and trouble our sail?"
Trenton scowled at him. "What are you on about? I don't believe in ghosts. A man of letters and numbers, that's me job on the Misty Maiden. Me attraction to tall tales disappeared along with me childhood many moons ago. Me instruments are pen, squid ink, and paper. Ghosts? Pah! There's no such thing," he said and began scribbling away in his journal.
His crewmates exchanged sceptical glances but didn't press the matter further. They knew their captain was a rational man who had long held a disdain for their superstitions. Trenton didn't believe in ghosts or other supernatural phenomena.
By nightfall, the wind began to howl.
The wind whipped the ship's sails and caused them to snap and flutter. Everyone became anxious. Trenton gave directives to ensure their safe sail through the Devil's Fury Sea. "All hands on deck! We're in for a rough ride, you make sure everything be secure and brace for impact!"
"Aye, captain! We already secured the cargo and the lifeboats," his assistant said. "The sails are down and the rudder is locked in place."
"Good work, mate," Trenton replied. "But we need be ready for anything. Keep a sharp eye out for any debris or other hazards."
The sailors struggled to keep the ship on course, their faces etched with determination and fear. The sound of the wind and waves was deafening, making it difficult to communicate. It started to drizzle and within seconds, it turned to a heavy downpour.
The sea became choppy making visibility poor. Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating the darkness and adding to the sense of danger.
Visibility was reduced to near zero as thick fog covered the sea and enveloped the ship. An unexpected collision with a humpback whale shook the ship. Trenton and some of the crew members fell against parts of the ship.
Trenton hit his head against the glass window and fainted. "Aye, the captain!" One of the crew shouted. "Medical!"
Trenton got up from his bed, his head throbbing badly and watched as the Misty Maiden sailed through the thick fog. He called out instructions to his crew but none responded. They were busy keeping the ship on course.
Then he heard strange noises coming from the hold. He dismissed them as just the creaking of the ship, but the noises persisted, growing louder and more frantic. He decided to investigate.
As he descended into the hold, he saw something that he could not explain. There, among the crates and barrels, stood a ghostly figure, its eyes glowing in the darkness.
"What the devil?" Trenton exclaimed in a whisper, his heart racing. But the ghostly figure didn't move or make a sound, it just stood there, staring at him.
Fearing for his life, Trenton stumbled back to his quarters, locked the door and sat down at his desk, trembling with fear. He felt strange. Even the ship felt strange too. Something was off. None of his crew members paid him any attention or sought his help. His assistant must be doing a good job.
The next day, the Misty Maiden docked in port and Trenton came down, still shaken by the previous night's events. He couldn't shake off the image of the ghostly figure from his mind. And for some inexplicable reason, he was not interested in his crew or the ship itself.
He got off the ship and walked the streets of the port town in a mournful state. He had no idea what he mourned. Then he stumbled upon an old bookstore. The owner, an old man with a kind smile, greeted him. "Why, hail, Captain. How may I succour you?"
Trenton, still in shock from the night before, looked at the old man strangely and asked. "Have you any treatise or work on spirits or apparitions?"
"You do know you are not alive anymore?" The old man said, startling Trenton. "Come. I have something for you."
The old man led Trenton to the back of the store and gave him a dusty old, leatherbound book. Trenton's eyes widened in shock. It was his journal, the one he had been writing in on the Misty Maiden.
"A fisherman brought it to me," the old man explained. "He was of the understanding that I would discover the proprietor."
"When was this?"
"Say about three years ago."
Jack's heart dropped as he realised that the figure he had seen in the hold was none other than a supernatural being —his ghost, coming back to haunt him for his disbelief. He had died that stormy night on the ship, and his spirit had not been able to move on.
He turned and began to walk out of the old man's store. "To what place do you journey now?" The old man asked quietly.
Trenton replied without looking back, "I must return to the Misty Maiden, as it shall be my eternal abode henceforth."
I hope you enjoyed reading this short story. This was inspired by @litguru's stable diffusion image (edited with Canva) and his twitter flash fiction. The image is used with his express permission.
Thank you for visiting my blog.
