Previous Instalments:
- Ghost Ship: The Horror from Cape Horn – Ghost Ship: The Mystery of the Leviathan
- Ghost Ship: The Leviathan – The Lady Luck and the Phantom Leviathan Encounter
- Ghost Ship: The Lingering Horror of the Leviathan – Ghost Ship Leviathan: Terrifying Secrets from the South Pacific
Ghost Ship IV: What Followed
Previously:
The Ocean Remembers
It remembered the year of 1942; when British battleship HMS Leviathan vanished rounding Cape Horn; no distress signal, no wreckage and no survivors.
After being written off as Lost at Sea by the Admiralty – something strange would take place in 1947, a Five-Year silence would birth a new legend when the Leviathan returned; Pristine, Empty and Untouched by Time, sliding out from fog that had no business existing.
Every Five years she would reappear; a Steel Phantom repeating the same impossible journey, the same impossible condition until the final sighting in 1990.
For Fifteen Years, the South Pacific would settle, she would go quiet once more.
Then, in 2005 when the Fog Returned – the Small Research Vessel; The Lady Luck would find herself swallowed by a mysterious storm and a darkness that felt far older than it had any right too; aboard her the team consisted of; Vincent, Tim, Sarah, Randall and their marine biologist Victoria White whose quiet strength steadied the team.
Their captain: Steven Vance, he recognised the silhouette that broke the mist, an impossible battleship he had witnessed as a young seaman.
Against Steven’s instinct and warnings, the team would board the Leviathan, driven by a lure of discovery – within they discover a ship frozen in time; beds made, charts laid out and uniforms waiting for men that would never return.
Then, slowly the ship would begin to awaken/
Cold Spots formed, Whispers slithered from dark corners, footsteps echoed the empty corridors then bulkheads would slam shut.
Randall would see a reflection of a man that did not belong to the living
Victoria and Sarah would hear voices whisper ‘Come Join Us’
The Leviathan would try to keep them; to prevent their escape – it nearly succeeded; the team would escape by seconds to flee back to the Lady Luck as the Battleship slipped once more into the fog, but the horror….
The Horror did not remain behind – it followed.
Within the swirling fog, the Lady Luck began to move without a hand at the helm, shadows would drift through her corridors and the air; the air would grow colder by each hour with a crew left shaken, fractured and terrified as they began to realise; whatever haunted the Leviathan…, it was now with them.
As the Lady Luck drifted in silence – the five figures huddled on the bridge; Vincent, Tim, George the cook, Victoria and Steven stood frozen as a shadow slid past the glass door, it didn’t seem to notice them as it disappeared down the stairwell and out of sight; the air felt heavier in its wake, as though the ship itself was holding her breath.
Then came a sharp electrical snap which broke the silence – the lights flickered back to life; harsh, stuttering, trembling before settling into a thin, unsteady glow.
Tim exhaled with a tremble as he purposely leaned himself forwards against a railing; Vincent, he sagged against the chart table while George let out a breath he hadn’t even realised, he had been holding “Are…, Are we safe now?” George whispered, afraid his question might summon whatever it was that they had seen pass the glass
No one answered him though, the room remained quiet beside the subtle hum of the light
Steven then moved; he strode directly to the helm, tension etched in his face as a tremor tightened in his chest; Victoria remained close to him, her fingers brushing his sleeve; not for clinging, but to simply keep herself calm, grounded and connected to the only sense of safety she had in that moment.
Steven moved his left-hand forwards to test the wheel; it spun freely, clicking uselessly – the Lady Luck gave no response, he tried the throttle; nothing.
Steven’s gaze flicked to the radio, flipping the switch and with a low, controlled voice; spoke “Lady Luck to any vessel in range; we require immediate assistance, I re…”
Static answered him; Thick, Wet…, almost like the sound of breathing – Victoria’s hand tightened as Steven looked at her “We need to get back to shore” he murmured, more to himself than to Victoria “It’s still aboard, it’s still in control”
A sharp ping from the radar snapped their attention to the screen; the blip was still there, the Leviathan was still hidden within the fog; unmoving, still waiting – a cold shiver drawled down Steven’s spine.
Below Deck
Randall wasn’t sure how he gotten down here – the last thing he remembered was standing on deck, staring into the impenetrable curtain of fog; hearing a whisper curling around him like cold breath, then…, nothing…, and now; he was down in the bowels of the ship, within the corridor with its flickering light.
He looked at his hands; there were dark stains, he didn’t remember what could have caused it, then he looked up – the groan of metal echoed through the passageway; his eyes drifted, scanning the shadows – nothing seemed out of place, yet…, he felt watched.
He felt as though he was being observed; as if he’d been chosen – he swallowed hard and then took a step forwards “Hello….” He whispered
The very moment the words left his lips he immediately regretted it
The darkness answered with a soft, dry whispers; a sound like parchment being dragged across stone – it came directly from behind him – he went rigid, his body locked as his breath caught; he didn’t dare to turn, he didn’t dare to look.
Behind him, something shifted within the dark – a soft scape of metal, a breath of cold air and then the corridor lights flickering lights died completely.
Randall’s eyes widen within the dark; he felt terrified – he couldn’t turn, could look, but his mind reeled back to the officers cabin aboard the Leviathan; the screaming face from the mirror.
Back on the Bridge, a faint tremor rippled through the deck; it was subtle, but unmistakable, deliberate; Victoria’s breath caught as she turned to look back, the ladders she and Steven had rushed to climb earlier, her eyes locked onto the darkness further below, what should have been a visible corridor, now covered by pooling shadow “Steven….” She whispered, barely audible
Steven looked to her then followed her gaze – something was wrong, but then, he realised something as he looked up; his eyes swept over those present; Vincent, Time, George; himself and Victoria…, but there was no Sarah and no Randall….
“Where are they?” Steven murmured; his eyes drifting back towards the ladders leading down into the dark corridor, his words sinking like lead into the silence – no one answered, but the exchange of concerned looks began
Then, another shudder rolled through the Lady Luck; deeper this time, a slow, resonant groan that seemed to rise from the very bones of the ship; Victoria stepped closer to Steven, her voice trembled “I want to get back to dry land” she swallowed, her fixing onto Steven “It’s moving….”
Steven didn’t need to check the instruments; he knew she was right – he understood her panic too; they were trapped on a ship that was not drifting but controlled by an unseen hand; as though being purposely guided.
And then there was Randall and Sarah – somewhere down below, somewhere in the dark bowels of the ship with whatever had followed them from the Leviathan.
Written By: Westley H.
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