Chapter 5 - Answers

Time passed strangely. Maybe it was the darkness. Maybe it was my head trauma. Maybe I was dying and this was just how it felt.

I slouched down on a wooden box, gently petting my new furry friend who I had decided to call Oreo. He was soft and warm, a stark contrast to this new wooden cave I found myself in. It was cold down here and smelled, well, kinda bad.

There were boxes and barrels stacked up and tied down with rope. I was curious to check what was in them, but too lethargic to actually do anything about it. I wanted to sleep but I wasn't sure whether I should. Couldn't you die like that? Like, sleeping after a head trauma... couldn't that land you in a coma?

But still... I was tired, and the cat was warm and comforting, and I didn't have much else to do to distract myself. My phone had no signal down here, so it's not like TikTok was an option.

I think I must have dozed off, because suddenly, a blinding light appeared, searing through my closed eyes. It was even worse when I snapped them open, trying to figure out what was going on.

There was a lantern right in my face, blinding me.

The cat hissed and bounded away, taking with him the only small scrap of comfort I had.

The so-called captain loomed in front of me, his eyes catching the light of the lantern.

“Have ye answers for me then, lass?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

I scoffed, annoyed at having been woken up, blinded and asked stupid fucking questions. The world tilted and a surge of vertigo rippled through me as I sat up.

"Have ye a surgeon for me then, Captain?" I countered, mimicking his Irish accent.

He looked momentarily taken aback, but then pressed on.

"On this ship, the questions are mine to ask," he insisted, his voice dripping with firm authority.

I tried to roll my eyes, but it hurt like a bitch.

"Well, if I die, I'm going to guess you'll be answering a lot more questions, Captain," I sneered with disdain. "I'm gonna guess that murdering a tourist probably isn't going to be great for business. So, if I were you..." I trailed off, my train of thought completely derailing and plummeting somewhere deep into the abyss.

He paused like he was waiting for me to finish my sentence, but I couldn't remember what we'd even been talking about now and I just stared at him, feeling like his face was familiar.

"I want to know why ye were in that cave. Who sent ye?" he finally said, his tone stern.

God, the lantern light was killing me. It was so much better when it was just dark and quiet.

I shielded my eyes, fighting back the wave of nausea that started to crawl up my throat.

"No one sent me," I insisted, certain it was true. "We were exploring the cave. I was looking for the crystal cavern, and I somehow got separated from the rest of my group. It's not like I was trying to deface the place or anything. Like, it's not that deep, dude. Seriously, if my head gets infected, I'm gonna find you guys on social media and give you such a bad review."

I wanted to say more. I wanted to give him more shit. But talking just made me feel worse. It was like I could feel my own words rattling around in my skull like loose bolts in an empty bucket.

The guy looked at me like I'd gone mad. Like I had literally lost my mind.

I saw it in his face, the hesitation. The uncertainty.

Good. Because I was done playing games now.

I glared at him indignantly, trying my best to show him that I meant business, but God knows how it came across. I probably looked like I was trying to survive a fucking monster hangover or something.

He huffed, clearly annoyed.

"I’ll have my answers, woman. And they’d best not be riddled with madness. Else ye’d best know how to swim."

Was this dude being fucking serious right now? Was he seriously threatening me when he'd been the one to drag me here and tell me I needed medical attention?! Like, the audacity!

For real, as soon as I had signal, I was going to give them the shittiest review possible. I didn't care if this was some bullshit fucking method acting or if my so-called friends put him up to this or whatever. It wasn't cool.

Before I could protest though, he started walking away again.

Can't say I was sad to see him or the lantern go. I might have called him back, but I was too annoyed and I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. I wasn't about to beg. I wasn't going to be the one to give in. He couldn't just leave me like this indefinitely. He was going to have a PR nightmare on his hands if anything happened to me, which gave me some tiny comfort.

Oreo reappeared like the godsend he was, hopping up on the crate beside me silently, his fur brushing against my elbow.

"You should talk to your HR department," I said, giving him a rub behind the ears. "This is definitely a toxic work environment."

The cat didn't reply, but he climbed onto my lap and began to purr.