Blackness Marine Novels & Stories

I j​umped do‍wn after her, my boots h‌itti‍ng the fiberglass deck⁠ with a du‌ll th​ud. The bo‍at‍ was a custom-built piece of milita⁠ry-‌grade machin‌er‌y​, low-‌profile an​d pain‌ted in a matte black finish‌ that absorbed th‌e flashing s⁠trobe ligh‍ts.

Life and death bounced off the pier that night. Rusting monolithic cranes spanned the pier, one upon another, metal upon metal stacks upon metal. Beyond them, the sea was turbulent with moonlight, wave upon wave a murmur of something ancient, enduring, unsoiled by the blood to be spilled on its beaches. Blackwood boys shot through the black like ghosts, leather jackets, knives tied round their wrists with duct tape, guns cinched round their belts. No bums or greenhorns — Harrison's crew, and Harrison had hardened up the sap in them years before.

“Yes I am” “Oh”, Dragomir said, his eyes trailing to his chest region, the man had fat breasts, “Okay” Raisel let out a small chuckle, unable to hold it in again. “Something funny miss?”, Dickard bellowed out. Raisel cleared her throat, “None at all” “What do you want?”, he asked. “We are yet to pay for our tickets, on board your ship”, Dragomir answered. “Well the Black Hollow is on a voyage to the western coast seas”, Boobs explained.

You are lost in the bliss of your creative imagination as you notice that the sea is created a roll of cyan-blue, the clouds or what little there are, are truffle white, and the hazy horizons is bathed in the purplish-black glow. You notice that the rocks are like indented slabs of black marble, still glistening with the afterglow of the high tide. The anemones that stick to them are a peaceful, monk-brown and the seaweed gleams in velvet-green. The symphony of sand-song returns to the ears as the noisy marauders disappear into the distance. You can feel the zingy sting of salt in your eyes and you will never know if it is the sea spray or tears.

He walked out of the cabin and was about to take over the task of steering the boat from Eira when water lapping sounds started coming from nearby at that moment. “Swoosh!” The seawater’s sounds were strange. Ambrose subconsciously looked to the sea. He was instantly stunned as what he saw made him shudder and gasped! Uh…uh… At that moment, Ambrose’s jaw dropped as he thought he was hallucinating. He then rubbed his eyes with a face full of shock! He saw thousands of sailing ships majestically sailing nearby on the sea. It was indeed more than a thousand of them! Those sailing ships were flying a black flag with a white shark embroidered on it. The contrast of the black and white was jarring

Slowly, the muscles in his jaw tightened, a low, barely audible growl vibrating in the back of his throat. "What is it?" I asked, a sudden, cold prickle of apprehension sliding down my spine. "The western shipping lanes," Silas muttered, handing the parchment to Marcus. "Three merchant vessels carrying the winter grain supplies from the free territories have vanished in the Blackwater Sea. No wreckage, no survivors. The port authority thinks it’s pirates from the outer islands, but the scouts found something else on the shore near the last known coordinates." Marcus looked up from the letter, his expression grim. "They found a fractured hull piece, Alpha. It was scorched with a specialized,

I find a table in the very back corner, tucked behind a big stone pillar. It’s perfect. It’s dark. It’s invisible. I sit down and open my book—a worn copy of Theoretical Astrophysics. I hide the cover behind a paper bag. If people knew the creepy janitor was reading about black holes, they’d only find a new way to mock me. I take a bite of my apple, my eyes scanning the room. Across the hall, the Knights' table is a scream of noise and gold. They sit in the middle, lit up by the tall gothic windows. Alan Voss is at the head of the table, looking like a king carved out of ice and ink.

Heavy boots were hitting the roof. "Marcus!" Lucian barked into his localized radio. "Report! I thought the island was a Dead Zone!" "It is, sir!" Marcus’s voice was strained over the static. "But they aren't using GPS. They’re using thermal imaging and old-school paratrooper drops. They’re not D’Amici, Lucian. The insignias... they’re Black-Shield." Lucian’s face went pale. Black-Shield wasn't a family; it was a private military corporation funded by a conglomerate of the Five Families' "Shadow Shareholders."

But I lost him because I was too proud to respect that he didn’t want to be a ruthless killer. But I’m done. For once, I will protect my son instead of just protecting myself. I, Nicholas Black, Gamma of the Midnight pack, hereby challenge you, Alpha Richard Harvey of the Midnight pack, for the Alpha title.”

I grew weak, drawing close to the darkness. I heard cries of my name and the wailing of sirens in a distance. Darkness finally consumed me, I had blacked out.