Dedicated to Thrae Elddim - Thank you for the inspiration and ideas behind this story.

AUTHOR'S NOTE : As usual, I own nothing. Sadly.

CHAPTER I

It was the most horrific sight that Thomas Andrews ever laid eyes on. Just a few feet in front of him on the Officer's Promenade, lay a young sailor. Not only was he clearly dead, but to Andrews' sheer horror, his body was covered in bites and most of his skin had been torn off. Quickly jotting down notes in his little black book that he carried everywhere, Andrews made a swift retreat, hellbent on informing the Captain. Sadly, as he arrived in the wheelhouse, it was not to be. Before him stood the seven officers of the Titanic, each of them looking both sombre and bewildered.

"Have you heard the news, Mister Andrews?" Chief Officer Wilde asked quietly, his voice almost cracking in the silence.

Andrews politely shook his head, too stunned to speak or even think clearly. What he had just seen on deck would surely haunt him for the rest of his days. He shuddered at the image of the blood slowly spreading across the deck, before being brought back to harsh reality by Wilde's chilling words.

"Captain Smith has disappeared."

This piece of information had Andrews gobsmacked. His mouth hung open as his thoughts returned to the unfortunate sailor who met his end. Surely the Captain couldn't have met this same fate, there must be a simple and less frightening answer. Not that the officers were much help. Still trying to process this news, Andrews asked, "Why do you think that Mister Wilde?"

"He hasn't been seen by any crew or passengers in the last few hours," Wilde began in explanation, looking more like he was breaking the news of a death as opposed to the disappearance of an important person. "Nobody knows where he could possibly be, besides the ocean ..."

Thinking more clearly, Andrews ordered, "Mister Wilde, make a call to the Crow's Nest and ask them if they've seen the Captain lately. Mister Murdoch, fetch our Marconi operators. If the Captain has indeed gone overboard for some mysterious reason, we must alert passing ships. This is certainly rather curious, to say the least."

"Yes Mister Andrews," First Officer Murdoch nodded as he walked briskly to the Wireless Room, passing by Wilde who was looking stressed as he got in touch with the Crow's Nest.

"I don't mean to panic anyone, but ..." Fourth Officer Boxhall trailed, feeling the eyes of the men burn into his. Taking a breath, he finished his sentence, "... I swore I could hear someone screaming earlier."

"Screaming? In what way?" Second Officer Lightoller asked, raising an eyebrow at Boxhall and watching him closely.

"Like ... He was being tortured or something," Boxhall clarified to stunned gasps. Sensing what everyone was thinking, he quickly added, "It couldn't have been the Captain! He sounded much too young to be him."

"That fellow on the Officer's Promeade ..." Andrews whispered in realisation, unaware that Sixth Officer Moody could hear him. It seemed as though there was a madman on the loose, something which had never occured to him. He would have known if someone on the ship was capable of doing such a thing.

"What fellow, Mister Andrews?" Moody asked, his face almost as white as the ocean surf.

Andrews let go a sigh and decided to stall until he could work things out more clearly in his head, "I'd rather wait until Mister Wilde and Mister Murdoch were present before I explain."

"Mister Andrews!" Wilde called over the second he was finished communicating with the Crow's Nest. He ushered Andrews over to him and said in a hushed voice, "Mister Fleet hasn't seen him either. Although, he mentioned something about seeing strange men with greyish skin staggering around rather oddly."

"That is odd ... Tell them to come down, and stop the engines. We're going absolutely nowhere until this ridiculous and unfortunate mess is sorted out," Andrews told him in no uncertain tone.

Fifth Officer Lowe peered outside the wheelhouse, wondering why everything seemed so deathly quiet. Not a single crew member or passenger could be heard walking around, the only noise coming from the ocean waves crashing against the sides of the ship. "It's too quiet for my liking ..."

"Mister Andrews!" Murdoch shouted as he returned to the wheelhouse with operators Phillips and Bride in tow, both of whom looked confused and scared. "I figured you might be able to explain better than I could."

"Turns out I really can't," Andrews sighed in exasperation, his mind desperately trying to piece everything together. None of this made sense to him at all. The Captain had suddenly, and somehow magically disappeared off the face of the Earth; There was a young sailor who had apparently been mauled to death by some sort of creature; And to top it off, there were men wandering the Titanic looking like the living dead. He hoped it was all a bad dream, and that he'd wake up and everything would be as it should.

"Well this is downright bizarre!" Third Officer Pitman exclaimed, keeping mostly quiet until now. He looked around at the men with a puzzled expression, knowing full well that they don't know any more than he did.

Lightoller nodded, "Indeed. It's most troubling ..."

"What happened with the fellow on the Officer's Promenade then?" Moody pressed, keen to find out what Andrews was whispering about. Nothing could prepare him for the answer that was given to him in a blunt manner.

"There was a young sailor lying in a pool of his own blood. There were bite marks on his body, and a great deal of skin had been ripped off."

Bride immediately paled and gasped, "I think I may just be sick!"

"Then do it over the side!" Murdoch insisted, dragging Bride outside and along to the ship's side. Looking away as Bride inevitably threw up, he took a look down the deck, seeing not a single soul, apart from a redhead wearing an elegant dress running towards them at great speed. He watched as her curled locks whipped behind her in the breeze as she neared them.

Bride managed to compose himself in time to see the young woman stop just before them. Inspecting her face, he could see that her eyes were red, and her cheeks were stained with tears. There was a definite look of terror in her eyes, and her breathing was shallow and tense.

"Miss, what happened"? Murdoch asked politely, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder to try and soothe her. He could feel her tremble under his touch, and tried to give her a reassuring smile.

"It's awful! It's so awful!" The woman sobbed, feverishly wiping away her tears as the two men shot each other curious glances before looking back at her.

"Rose?" Andrews called, taking a few steps towards them.

Rose turned around immediately at hearing his voice and blurted out, "My mother's dead!"

There was a collective gasp from the men as she ran from Murdoch and straight into the arms of Andrews, who looked rather upset himself. Not a sound could be heard apart from Rose's distraught sobs as Andrews gently rubbed her back in a soothing motion. He knew nothing he could do could possibly ease her pain, but he had to know for sure what had killed Ruth DeWitt Bukater.

"Poor girl ..." Phillips whispered as the lookouts Fleet and Lee finally arrived, looking worried and as though they had seen a ghost.

Lee turned to Lowe and asked in a quiet voice, "What happened?"

"Her mother died ... We don't know why though," Lowe answered in an equally quiet tone.

Lee thought for a moment before whispering hurriedly into Fleet's ear, "Think those strange men killed her?"

"Good question," Fleet nodded, looking over at Rose sympathetically. "We have to ask ..."

"Ask what?" Andrews questioned, although he could already guess what the answer would be. "Bearing in mind the sensitive situation at hand?"

"It'll be about those men, perhaps," Wilde suggested, wanting to keep the conversation away from the subject of Rose's mother.

Andrews sighed, knowing right away what the lookouts were thinking. It was the same harrowing thought that crossed his mind too, but he didn't want to think of anyone as barbaric enough to savage another human being in that manner. The dread clear in his voice, he asked, "Do you think those men are capable of murder?"

Rose immediately gasped and looked up at him, "Mister Andrews, it couldn't have been a person. Not the way I found Mother ... She ... She lost most of her ... Skin, and there were bites. It had to have been an animal."

"Besides, those men were staggering around like Lights after too many brandies!" Lee exclaimed, looking for a laugh that was never going to appear.

Lightoller scowled at him, "This is not the time for jokes Mister Lee! This is a dire emergency, one I think we should get the firearms out for!"

"But there won't be enough for us all to be armed," Rose pointed out amongst her tears as she pulled away from Andrews to look at Lightoller. "And I want to be. If they came after mother, they might come after me."

"That's a good point," Murdoch informed Lightoller. "We'll need to find enough weapons for us all in case any one of us get attacked."

"Shall we try the cargo hold?" Boxhall suggested, glancing in the direction of it and shrugging. "Who knows what we'll find in there."

Knowing that they couldn't come up with anything else for the time being, Andrews ordered Quartermaster Rowe to round up some crew, arm themselves and keep watch at the bridge. With that taken care of, they wandered down the silent decks, with not a single soul in sight, normal or otherwise. The only signs of life were three young gentlemen talking quietly as they looked over the side of the ship.

Rose recognised one of them immediately and shouted, "Mister Dawson!"

With a surprised look on his face, Jack Dawson faced Rose as she approached with the overly-cautious crew behind her. Thinking he was in trouble, he held up his hands and insisted, "I didn't do anything!"

"I know you didn't," She reassured him with a barely there smile as his friends Fabrizio DeRossi and Tommy Ryan shared a perplexed look before shrugging. "I just didn't expect to find you down here."

"We're hiding from these creepy looking guys," Jack explained, indicating towards the decks behind Rose, where sure enough, one of them was swaying on the spot peering into what could well have been a window. "They kept staggering around, and mumbling really strange things."

"That still sounds like a very drunk Lights!" Lee laughed gleefully to be rewarded with a slap on the back of the head. "Ow!"

Lightoller narrowed his eyes, "We can make jokes once we find the Captain and get to the bottom of these deaths!"

Murdoch rolled his eyes, "Now who's being a grumpy bastard?"

Wilde let out a guffaw and nudged Lightoller's ribs, "He has a point. You're sounding like you've got a telephone pole stuck up your arse! It's so unlike you."

"Enough lads, before this descends into war!" Fleet insisted, pulling open the door to the cargo hold. "I just want to kill these bastards and get on to dry land!"

"We should probably go then," Andrews sighed, making sure everyone got into the cargo hold safely. He made sure the door was securely locked before joining the group who were gathered around a suspicious looking box. He pulled out a note, which read :

To The Chosen Few,

Congratulations on escaping the zombies and coming across this box. In here are various items of weaponry, some stemming from after your time. Nonetheless, they will each prove useful as long as they are used in a proper manner. Might I suggest taking care with the guns and bladed weapons, in particular?

These zombies will not go down easily. They are undead, that is, they are not alive or dead in the conventional sense. To truly rid yourselves of them, you need to harm them as brutally as possible. Watch out for the zombies with blue blood, which can regenerate unless their heart is completely destroyed.

I trust you to dispose of these zombies in a quick manner. All that is left to say are these words : Good luck!

"I wonder who left this?" Andrews mused as several of the group took one look inside before deciding to grab their weapons. He quickly slipped the note into his book for future reference before seeing what everyone had picked in terms of weaponry.

Moody reached into the box and pulled out a chainsaw, looking at it in sheer wonder. He assumed it was some sort of fancy hammer, designed to cut into the skin upon impact. He placed a firm grip on the handle with one hand, and used his other to tug at the small cord dangling from the engine. He nearly jumped back in fright as the saw briefly spluttered to life before dying out again. Amazed, he asked, "What the hell is this?!"

"I have no idea Officer," Rose replied, more amused than shocked by his weaponry of choice. She pulled out an interesting choice herself, a gigantic sword that looked to be bigger than herself, with the words Buster Sword etched into the blade near the handle. To her it was surprisingly light. Clearly this was the work of some kind of higher power that didn't obey physics. "I quite like this."

"Oh, now this looks fun!" Lightoller exclaimed, as he pulled out a sledgehammer. With a chuckle, he swung it at the back of the Renault sitting in the middle of the hold, smashing the back window to smithereens.

"Mister Lightoller!" Andrews gasped, almost dropping his black notebook in shock. He scowled at the man and hissed, "We're here to destroy the undead, not motor vehicles!"

"Wait until my children hear this," Lightoller sniggered, swinging the sledgehammer around extravagantly. "It'll be some bedtime story!"

"You're gonna scare the life out of them!" Jack insisted, aiming his nail gun at the Renault and firing several nails in it's side, much to Andrews dismay. "We may as well use this as target practice then!"

Phillips laughed as he pulled out a large spear, with Wilde grabbing a pitchfork. Sharing equally mischievious grins, Phillips counted down, "Three, two, one ... Go!" with the two of them running at the back of the Renault, plunging their weapons into the back before yanking them right back out.

"Superb!" Wilde declared, clearly impressed with his choice of weapon. He swung it around, before pretending to dig up hay. "This'll be great for tossing carcasses overboard!"

"I'm death!" Lee annouced as he picked up a large scythe that was almost the height of him. "Now I just need a black cloak!"

Tommy held aloft a spiked mace, proclaiming, "I have ye old medieval weapon!"

Andrews sighed at the situation before helping himself to a machete. Sure, it risked him having to be in close combat, but he'd rather something he could use without fear of killing himself, unlike Moody, who was still struggling with his chainsaw.

"Keep pulling the cord Jimmy," Lowe advised, trying to coax the younger officer into doing so.

Moody reluctantly pulled the cord so that the saw roared to life. He looked just as terrified as everyone else as he held it at arms length, shouting over the noise, "What do I do with it?!"

Edging away whilst carrying a crossbow, Pitman suggested, "Use it on the car! See what it does!"

"Come on, don't be scared!" Boxhall shouted, tearing his eyes away from the rather large axe he had picked up.

Moody carefully inched towards the car with the saw as everyone backed away, intimidated by the noise and watching the blade intently. Squeezing his eyes shut, he plunged the saw into the side door as it sliced through with relative ease. Opening each eye slowly, he looked down as the saw made quick work of the door. Pulling it out wasn't as easy, as he pulled it back hard enough for it to almost hit his face. With a loud shriek, he dropped it onto a crate where it slowly came to a grinding halt. Pointing at it, he screeched, "That's too scary!"

"But bloody effective!" Murdoch pointed out, admiring the shotgun he had chosen for himself. He took aim and blasted several holes in the car's engine before he was satisified with the results. "You saw the way it went throught that door! Imagine how easily you can get through the undead like that!"

"What about this?" Fabrizio asked, firing a machine gun at the other side so that the other door was littered with bullet holes. He looked proudly at the damage caused as Murdoch blasted another couple of holes.

"It's quick!" Murdoch commented, watching as Bride pulled out a cast-iron frying pan of all things. Staring in disbelief, he asked, "Really? You're going to fight the undead with a fucking frying pan?!"

Bride shrugged as he gazed down at the object, "I can hit it pretty hard I'll have you know. I used to kill rats as a kid with these things."

"I hope your mother didn't use it for her cooking," Rose remarked as she swung her sword into the car.

Bride went a bright shade of pink and placed a finger at his lips, "Shhh ... Don't tell ..."

"That's disgusting " Lowe groaned as he picked up a cricket bat. He was rather disappointed, as it was the last item in the box, after Fleet picked up a bizarre looking contraption with a huge barrel on the end of it. If only he hadn't stopped to help Moody with his chainsaw, he could have grabbed something more effective.

"What the hell did you pick up?" Pitman asked as Fleet aimed his contraption at the car, with a finger over the trigger.

With a smirk, he replied, "I'mm just about to find out."

Fleet was absolutely stunned to find a powerful flame shoot out from the end of the barrel, thankfully dispersing before it could hit the Renault. His mouth gaped wide open, pretty much like everyone else's. All he could utter was, "Bloody hell!"

"That is brilliant!" Lightoller exclaimed, clearly perking up now that he had a new weapon to play with. "If you get bored I'll swap you!"

Fleet chuckled and looked to the flamethrower, "Oh ... I don't think I'll ever get bored with this!"

Andrews motioned for everyone to gather around, with Moody staying relatively far back, clutching his chainsaw rather timidly. He held his machete aloft and looked to everyone, "We have task to do! Perhaps if we rid the Titanic of zombies, we can find the truth behind the deaths and the Captain's disappearance. So let's get out there, and take back our ship!"

A chorus of cheers erupted in the cargo hold as everyone looked determined, each of them putting their faith in each other and their weapons. Out of them all, Rose looked the most determined, keen to seek revenge for her mother's murder. She carried her sword low and urged, "Let's go!"

Before they left, Lightoller turned to Jack and insisted, "I don't care what you say young man, but my children are getting told this story at bedtime when I get back!"