Gorgos

"I don't think you should go." She tugged at his lapels, trying to pull him back. Tears were running down her face as she considered what could happen, and the life she would live alone.

"The monster has taken far too many of our people," he whispered, cradling her face. "I am to do my duty."

"Why you?!" she shrieked. "Why?! You have a child!"

He grabbed her harshly. "Yes, and that is why I go, and you stay. He will know his father did what he had to do!"

She slumped, the fight gone out of her. "If you do not return... if the gods permit you to live..."

He put his lips to hers, and silenced her with a kiss. He held it as long as he dared, and both pulled back at the same time. With a look of longing, she let him go. He did not look back.

The shield was heavy on his arm, and the sword dragged low on his belt. He could feel the summer heat rolling off his armor, blinding him with the sweat from his brow. The road was long, and as he walked it, he could almost feel the spirits of the fallen before him, cheering him on, encouraging him, hoping he would succeed where they failed.

The hours dragged on like days. The haze threw temptations before his eyes; his wife drifted by, begging him to return, his child at his feet, his home in the distance. They vanished with a shake of the head, but their effect was nearly crippling.

Finally, by nightfall, he reached the hidden valley. There were no trees, or plants, but merely stones and black water, and one dark cave. Carefully, he trod down, until a rock slipped under his foot with an echoing crack!

He froze, and the cave seemed to shift before him. After what seemed like hours, he found his courage again, and inched forward. The cave loomed like a mouth now, stalactites like the teeth of a horrible beast. Helmets and shields and swords lay scattered all over the floor, memoirs and gravestones for fallen heroes. But there were no bones, and he shuddered to think the monster ate them whole.

Even though the night breeze was cool, sweat still ran down his bare chest. His helmet was cold now, almost freezing, but it kept him awake and aware. Each step seemed a physical burden, inexorably bringing him closer to death...

The sound of hissing brought him to a halt. Then there was a sharp rattling from the depths of the cave. He readied his sword and shield.

The monster emerged. Its body was the first thing he saw, and inexplicably, he was intensely attracted to its female figure, nude in the moonlight. As it stepped out of the shadows, however, his eyes moved to its face and he screamed in horror.

A grotesque, twisted mockery of the female face, with oversized lips and a skeletal nose. Cheekbones protruded wildly underneath sunken red eyes, and a broad, wrinkled forehead was decorated with countless writhing serpents. It made a keening noise at him, and he felt his blood slowly freeze in his veins.

His quest forgotten, he tried to run, only to find his feet frozen to the spot. Literally. He glanced down, and to his horror, his feet seemed to be made of roughly hewn stone. And as the monster cried again, he felt his arms drop heavy to his sides, then his chest seemed to heave and stop.

Slowly, piece by piece, he was turned to stone. His mind was still aware though, and as his eyesight vanished, he almost thought he saw his wife and child before his eyes. Then he was gone, joining the countless heroes who had paved the way before him.

And the monster cried to the night, rubbing furiously against the rocks, trying to satiate itself, but failing, with only the snakes and stones for company.

The Mary Celeste: Part 1

"Bring her broadside men! Steady now!"

Sheldon pulled the rope with earnest, sweat running in rivulets down his brow. The heavy lifeboat inched closer to the frigate, a wall of wood that stretched almost endlessly upwards. The thick fog of the ocean's morning enshrouded them like a burial cloth. The mood was dank and damp, and the stench of rotting wood and salt filled the air like a haze.

Bit by bit, the sailors tugged and forced their way aboard the eerily silent ship. Sheldon reached a hand out into the side of the ship, running his fingers along the treated wood, marred and furrowed by long service at sea. A cold object touched his palm, cool and wet against the soggy wood. Sheldon stared at the brass lettering.

"Mary Celeste." he muttered to himself. Robin shouted out, much louder, right behind his ear, and he winced.

"Hoi Captain! Mary Celeste! Wasn't that one of the Queen's brigantine's?"

Captain Shelvocke nodded from his perch at the lifeboat's stern. "Aye, sailor. Tis the one they call the cursed ship."

Under his voice, he whispered in stage voice. "They say that her first captain died in her maiden voyage, under the name Amazon, and the brig was driven ashore in an icy storm off'r the coast o' Nova Scotia."

"What's it doing out here then, Cap'n, sir?" Robin lowered his spyglass from the horizon. "And where's the crew?"

"Well, that's what we boarded her for, to find out." The captain raised his gaze to the rails of the ship, far above the tiny lifeboat. He continued, almost to himself, "But I reckon it can't be anything good."

Sheldon turned his head to look at their own ship, the Abel. The fog wrapped around it, and it seemed to drift, anchored though it was. As he looked back up at the Mary Celeste, his heart seemed to stop, and he wished he was back on his bunk, reading a novel, and not on board a lifeboat, about to investigate a ghost ship.

With a creak and a groan, the grapple hooked onto the rails of the Celeste. Ten sailors, including the captain, Robin and Sheldon, all hoisted themselves over the wood and onto the deck. All was eerily quiet, other than the echoing footsteps of the crew. The captain headed for the head of the ship, while the sailors set out to various places on the deck. Sheldon decided to take a look closer to the stern, away from the dark cabin door.

And then, Robin shouted. "Cap'n! Sir! I've found something amiss, here by the rigging! Looks like it was cut'n run."

The crew huddled around, a small group in the midst of the empty deck. The rigging was cut and slashed, as if the crew had foregone proper procedure to lower the sails. All in all, Sheldon noted, it looked as if the Mary Celeste was under some sort of siege, and that the crew, in panic, had tried to escape as fast as possible.

The captain's brow was furrowed, and his eyes narrowed. "No captain would give this order unless under grave circumstances."

Suddenly, a shout came from the bow. "Captain!"

The Abel's crew rushed to the railings in a thunder of feet. Three long scratches adorned the wood, as if some horrid monster had slashed at the ship. The sailors shivered in the cool fog, but it wasn't from the cold.

Carefully now, the crew proceeded to the stern of the ship, and Sheldon saw some of the sailors with knives out, or fingers on triggers. As they reached the head of the ship, a small object struck Sheldon in the foot, causing him to shout. The other sailors, startled, jumped and gave him a dirty look. He picked the round object off the deck.

It was the ship's compass. The needle was missing, the lens was cracked, and the entire thing was sodden with water. He tossed it to the ground, shaking his hand of the wet slime.

Meanwhile, Captain Shelvocke was scanning through the ship's logs. Water-sodden and torn, he puzzled over them for a long time. The crew watched as he flipped the wrinkled papers over.

"Says here," he whispered, "that the ship is carrying over a thousand barrels of the Queen's alcohol, 6 months worth of food, and that the last place it landed was Santa Maria, in Azores. Captain Briggs commanded the vessel... but the last pages are blank. And all the other papers, maps and articles, are missing."

"Wha'happened to the crew?"

"Doesn't say. Although I knew Captain Briggs, and he wouldn't be one to invite mutiny, or lose his head in a situation." His words seemed to invite evil, because all the men suddenly shivered as if hit by a cold wind.

The cabin door creaked as the men hacked it open. Instantly, water poured out. Robin took a look in and said, "Cap'n. The hull is breached, and the bottom's full o'water!"

Shelvocke pushed past. "We can still get in, although it'd be cold. Come on men! Hike up those trousers!"

Sheldon stepped into the soggy cabin. The air was warm and humid, with the unmistakable stench of alcohol. They didn't find anything of interest in the cabin; in fact, everything seemed spookily normal, down to the hanging laundry and the scraps of food still on the table. Odd, creepy, and a total mystery. Wind echoed through the crack nosily, whistling a haunting tune that chilled the crew to their bones.

The men surfaced, unnaturally silent. Working hard, they boarded the lifeboat, with thick ropes tied to the mast of the Mary Celeste. In utter silence they rowed back to the Abel, only broken by the lapping of water against oars, and the occasional murmur.

Once aboard their own ship, the crew relaxed visibly. The shadow of fear still hung about their necks, but Sheldon felt much more relieved than he was on the Celeste. The sailors hoisted the ropes in a knot around the Abel's mast, linking the two ships together as one.

"All done Captain! Take her out!"

The sails were hoisted and the yards trimmed. The ropes snapped taut as the Abel towed the Celeste, dragged backwards by the weight of the brig. But the Abel was a larger ship, and bit by bit, both boats cruised towards the horizon.

It was only in the middle of the night that Sheldon heard the harsh snap and screams of men. Sitting bolt up in bed, he swung out of his bunk, narrowly avoiding Robin as he dashed round the corner.

"Hurry men!" The Captain was already on deck, along with most of the crew. Sheldon struggled to pull his jacket on, and as he burst through the cabin door a spray of mist hit him in the face. All the sailors were clinging to the mooring rope, the thin line connecting the Celeste to the Abel. The cable was swaying dangerously, almost as if something were pulling the other end.

"Steady!" Shelvocke shouted, as the sailors groaned and heaved. The line slowly settled down, and the men relaxed. But the next second, it had whipped into the air, tossing unsuspecting and unwary bodies everywhere. The captain himself stumbled back into Sheldon, knocking him down. With barely a second glance both were up, pulling at the rope once more.

In the distance, in the light of the moon, Sheldon could see the ghostly brig flotaing in the dark. Although the rope twisted and turned like the devil was fighting them, the ship itself was calm in the waters. A eerie feeling struck Sheldon as he paused to look. Almost as if a spell was cast, all the men stood stock-still, staring at the distant ship.

Smile

I always wondered where I learned to smile.

With the red-tinged teeth of splintered glass,
A gash in the face like a knife wound.
A line made with mirth and memory, from
Ear to ear, from thought to thought.

A row of tombstones behind cracked and broken lips,
A razor edged tongue spitting words through a wound.
Life's comedies and tragedies bled out,
In jeers and shouts and greeting to the gray world.

A cut with a mental blade across the jaw,
Drawing words out with a provocation.
Sharp slashes that slice away skin and bone,
Revealing the soul inside, like a wrapped present.

A sharp jolt of shock from mind to mind,
Expressions of this and that, spraying out.
Holes in the masks we craft for ourselves,
A tear, a peek through the fabric of the facade.