Chapter Two

Lloyd fell the sudden pull from his collar, he stumbled backwards until he was roughly pushed against the wall. It all was too fast to let him react, and now he was cornered with a knife pressing on his neck. In a normal situation Lloyd would have been terrified, mixed with the desperation to free himself, but he still believed it was all an act for the tourists.

He laughed a little, somewhat nervously, and raised his hands "alright captain, no need to be so harsh, good acting though!" He said with a wink and looked around before stopping his gaze on the other's face. "Aren't you too attractive to be playing an old legend?" he asked arching a brow still having a smile on his face, he would be lying if he wasn't flirting a little, he seldom got the chance with the clientele they had in the restaurant.

Lloyd laughed trying to get away "of course the dock isn't abandoned...oh, wait that must be your lines, sorry, but I don't work here" he replied once again trying to leave, but found the other's hold on him hard. 

"Hey, you can let me go now" he commented starting to get a bad feeling about the stranger who was taking his role too seriously. The knife had nicked the skin and drawn blood, trickling down like a warm, crimson tear. Lloyd's breath increased. "H-hey... I don't think it's legal to use a real weapon in a play!" 

He shook nervously, the words sounding desperate and incoherent in his ears as he gazed into the expressionless eyes.

For his slender frame Nathaniel possessed an unearthly strength. He ignored the words and studied him for a short while, the appearance strange to him after all these years. Time, of course, had moved on but the ship and all afloat stayed trapped.

"Interesting..." He hissed eventually running the blade lightly over the others cheek, taking the droplet on the tip. "Been a long time since I laid eyes on another, seems times have changed a bit.

The terror in Lloyd's face gave a rush of fresh power, something he hadn't seen since his heyday. It was exhilarating, yet bittersweet as memories of his fate and what could have been surged in his mind.

His grip tightened. 

"Ain't changed enough to quell the urges of curiosity though. Perhaps if it were up to me and I was in fair mood I would allow you to leave but it is quite impossible." He said and leaned closed. "Nothing, man or beast, that sets foot on this ship returns to shore."

Not until the promised lives were given, he added inwardly to himself, but this one did not meet the stringent requirements demanded by the Evil that governed them.

Lloyd felt sick as cold emanated from the figure, heightened by the soft hiss of deadly snakes. 

"What do you want? Money? My phone?" He spat "you can take them! Just get off me! I won't even report it!"

There had been a spate of pickpocketing during high season, and report of one or two more violent attacks. If the man wasn't acting for a rehearsal, then it was a criminal hiding on the newest attraction as a mask for his crimes. 

Trying to keep his attention on the knife, he was forced to squint, bothered by the light coming from the slowly rising sun, and with the little light it gave he could see that the wood from the boat looked older than he thought. 

Shadows stretched and dark figures trudged up the gangplank, their appearance briefly brining a rush of hope. Lloyd called out, praying they were the cast arriving early, but it was a hope that was dashed within seconds.

The people he could see weren't usual people, initially wondering if it was all thanks to the makeup, but something in his guts told him he was wrong and all of this wasn't what he thought. 

No make-up could be so realistic without the aid of camera tricks.

"Seems the crew are back," Nathanial  released his hold and dropped Lloyd unceremoniously onto the deck as the footsteps grew, looking with disdain as he scrambled like a beached  fish at his feet. 

Nathaniel's crew, bar one, a young cabin boy named Thomas, were clearly all older than their captain, something that had not gone down well with some in the early years.

A problem addressed swiftly and permanently, even if resentment lingered still.

The bore little resemblance to the motley crew they once were, still grizzled and sea worn, but now their features lacked any sign of health or glow, their skin shrivelled as if the centuries of brine had drained every bit of moisture. 

Their eyes, sunk as deep as they were able in the sockets, peered Lloyd's way, cold and emotionless, bar one or two who had the glimmer of curiosity in them. None spoke, wandering aimlessly to their required places.

"Go ahead and try to leave, lad," Nathaniel added with what sounded like amusement as Lloyd tried stealthily to crawl towards the gangplank. "But you'll have no luck."

Himself and his crew were already damned, the threat did not apply to them unless they were on shore when the sun rose into the sky but an intruder was different.

What they had seen was not for mortal eyes and the least that would happen was their sight would be painfully taken and the tongue severed.

The worse? An excruciating death at the hands of the demons that served the Master.

Lloyd laughed nervously, pulling himself to his feet now he'd been spotted, not knowing what the other was talking about. "Nice story. But I really need to go back home, my friends must be worried sick." 

He stuttered badly, still not understanding what the man wanted from him, any criminal would have already taken his belongings and let him be, so it couldn't be the case, then his face went pale, was he a murderer? Toying with him before taking his life?

He stepped back, bumping into one of the skeletal men. The stench of body odour and musty death of funeral parlour assaulted his nose and he jerked back. The man stared at him, looking as if he held only enough weight to keep him upright but she was surprising solid, not wavering at the sudden collision.

It was until then he noticed the fog surrounding the ship, he looked around trying to find where he could make his exit, afraid that he would fall into the water, ignorant of the darker truth. He stretched his leg trying to tap with his foot to find the gangplank, but suddenly he felt strong claws try to grab his leg. He had no idea there were demons, guarding their future payment and ready to kill the mortals who dared to leave the ship. He screamed and moved his leg away just in time, lucky to not had been dragged away or had his limb torn off. Looking down, he groaned, feeling the pain heighten as he saw his leg bleeding. 

"What the hell was that!?" he cried out quite panicked, he figured out this people were involved with the creature that just attacked him.

He waspanting frantically, his anxiety mounting. Trapped in an unknown place, with complete strangers, and a mysterious thing ready to kill him if he dared step outside.It was too much for him, and the injury wasn't helping calm down. He couldn't help but be in complete in panic, he was trying to press his hands against his wound making his best attempt to keep the blood in. 

Nathaniel remained deadpan as he watched, his dark eyes looked to where the sky had reddened and the sun was starting to chase away to blackness.

The others didn't seem to notice, or they had seen it all too often in the past. Watching only cemented the knowledge of how thin their link between earth and the underworld was.

"Thomas. Here." Nathaniel's voice was sharp and authoritative, it left no room for one to disobey and the youngest of the crew, a red head of 'debatable' Scottish descent, edged forward. "See to that. And make sure the deck is cleaned, course is set for the Northern Islands and I don't want damn sea birds picking up the blood scent."

"Aye Sir." Thomas moved across to help Lloyd up but paused upon seeing the wound. Removing his handkerchief he wrapped it round the others leg, pulling it tightly to quell the blood flow "come on," he offered the male his arm "best get it cleaned...you don't want it going bad."

Lloyd flinched at the sting but nodded. Infection would be easy to catch around here if the state of the ship was as bad as it seemed. 

"I guess."

Thomas gazed at him for a moment, curious at seeing a fresh face after all these years, before heading below deck. They were fortunate in that ship seemed to have a lasting supply of food and water, even though it was seldom touched nowadays. They didn't need it but whatever forces owned them were determined that none would perish unless foolish enough to try and defy it.

It did also make washing an option, Nathaniel hated bad smells. Plus, the supply of alcohol seemed to keep his, and the crews, temper stable.

Lloyd sighed, tentatively leaning against the railing to take the weight from his wounded leg. He furtively peeked over into the whirling mist. Perhaps it was pareidolia but he could have sworn he saw dark shapes twisting and writhing in the grey.

He shook his head. This was ridiculous. It had to be a publicity stunt. All this was a myth, based on a man born in the town and who had held it in an iron vice later in life, holding it to ransom for supplies and money.

Lloyd wrinkled his nose. Clearly the way to fame and success was bleeding people dry.

"And boring us all with lame legends to bring in annoying tourists..."

Still. An icy chill ran through him.