The Ship

Day 29

Ate some dried macaroni and cheese that I found in the storage cabinet. My ribs poke through my clothes, and my skin glows in the light of the cold fluorescent bulbs of the lower decks.

It’s eerily quiet here, and I’ve never felt so alone.

I knew they should never have tested the KCEPR, and now there’s hell to pay.

It was supposed to stop human targets in their tracks; by flash-freezing something in place, and cancelling all energy in an object, it would safely “freeze them in time” for enough time to dispose of the victims properly. Let’s just say we still had a lot of fine-tuning to do.

Luckily, I was having lunch in the reinforced kitchen when it happened, and the KCEPR’s effect was reduced to a safe amount that only froze me for a century. The same can’t be said about anyone else – they were gone after the pulse vaporized everything but their bones.

I’ve gotten much of my information from automatically-recorded radio transmissions, and history sure isn’t pretty. Iran and North Korea were somehow implicated in a bombing of the UN buildings around 2016, and the world degenerated into a nuclear war with no clear victor. Needless to say, there wasn’t anyone around to search for the missing “cruise ship” (research vessel) off the coast of Madagascar after the bombs fell. There’s not much after the war, except for some broadcasts from various rising communities that happened to scavenge some satellite radios.

Day 30

It’s been a month since I thawed. I’m stuck on this god-forsaken boat. The only way out is outside of the lockdown, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to release it. Someone – or something – has been trying to open the hatch this entire time. I’m afraid to listen to the radio broadcasts anymore; it seems to be reacting to them in some way, but the sounds are unintelligible if it’s trying to talk.

The sound at the hatch is back again. It’s louder this time. Something is trying to get me.

I have to get out, and the only way out is through the hatch. I’m going to open it. Hopefully this won’t be the last entry.

Day 31

I’m never going to leave this place.

As I made my final preparations to venture out of the lockdown, I saw it.

Looking up, I was blinded by a monstrous visage. Two glowing orbs followed me as I stumbled backward, trying to reach the control panel. They were underscored by a menacing grimace that will haunt me forever.

Those were the last things I saw as I re-activated the lockdown.

It’s going to kill me.

Help me.

*Written in collaboration with Coleton Cuddy