Titanic

What the Hell?

Cal Hockley

Sighing yet again, he rolled over onto his side, burying his head into his soft pillow to try to block the sounds penetrating his room. The soft sounds of feet brushing against the carpet outside in the hallway had been going on for some time now, and all Cal could think was what the hell?! But that was just it…who the hell was up at 12:00 in the morning anyway? And weren't the English supposed to be educated in some fucking manners? If you're up, don't wake the whole fucking ship up with you. Realizing he wasn't going to be getting any sleep unless he told the sons of a bitches to get the hell out of his hall, he threw back the covers angrily and stomped to the chair next to the French doors leading out onto his private balcony-oh the things he could do there- to grab his bathrobe which he donned in a hurried manner before slipping on his slippers and walking toward the front door.

Throwing the door open, he stepped out into the doorway and beckoned a passing steward over. The steward looked pale and slightly frail- as if he was deathly frightened while at the same time deathly sick but he really didn't care. He needed to sleep because he needed his looks. Without them, Troy would gain much more distance in the wooing of one Sharpay Evans and he wasn't about to let go of his leading position.

"What the hell are you doing? Don't you know it's the middle of the fucking night?" he practically grabbed the steward by the throat.

"We….well y…yes sir so...sorry sir." The steward half mumbled half stuttered as his eyes darted up and down the hall. He seemed sort of edgy as if he expected at any moment for disaster to strike.

Unsettled, Cal let go of the steward who took an immediate step backward. Well, that was to be expected. But as the steward turned around, Cal had the feeling that something important was happening. That something was off and that the only way he could figure out what was if he questioned one of the staff…and this guy was as good as any to give him what he wanted right?

Lowering his voice so that no one outside their room, or frankly anyone listening from just inside their doors could hear, he inquired "Is something happening?" The reaction of the steward confirmed his suspicion. The man's face paled slightly and a light film of sweat started to appear on his forehead. Just as he was about to press him for more, the man turned and walked brusquely away, as if he had no more time to talk to him…or had no desire. He tripped several times along the hall, on seemingly nothing and as he nodded slightly to the passengers just opening their doors. Cal saw for the first time how absolutely terrified he was. He kept jumping at the slightest of sounds…a door opening, or voices coming up from an adjoining hall. Something was wrong.

Turning back, he closed the door carefully before flicking on the lights. What was happening? It had to be something if the stewards and stewardesses were all up and about…but what? His mind tried to reason with himself, telling him that if something was indeed wrong, they would have sent Sharpay to notify him. Disasters didn't happen without the passengers' knowledge. That was unheard of. But then again, the unsettled part rebutted, the engines were off, the crew was up and about…and shaken by the way…and…there seemed to be something wrong with the way he walked. It was odd, but he felt like every time he took a step, his right foot wouldn't quite land right…as if he wasn't quite balanced. He had just changed from his night clothes to a suit when there was a light tap on the door.

Crossing out of his bathroom, his worst fears were confirmed. Sharpay was there…and her eyes were slightly red as if she had been crying. "What's happened?"

"What? Why…why would you ask that?"

"Don't pretend I'm not aware and save me my pride. Tell me." He said it a little more forcefully than he had meant but she had been trying to hold out on him, and NOBODY held out on him.

"It's…its nothing. It's just…please let me get you a jacket, its cold out tonight."

"A…a jacket? What the hell would I need a top coat for?"

"You need to get to the boat deck, as soon as possible. It's the Captains orders. Now please, it's quite cold out tonight." She held out the item in question and he begrudgingly took it, hoping that putting it on would give him the chance to acquire the information he so desperately wanted. Why wouldn't she answer the question?

"Oh and here. Put this on…for me?" he swallowed the lump that was forming as he took the unwieldy object from her. Its white color practically shone from the way the light reflected off of it…a lifejacket. Oh God.

He was stunned when she curtsied to him, and then left without even a look back over her shoulder. And as the door closed, he realized that it was more serious than even he could have thought...

Gabriella

A slight tapping on her door awoke her, making her body go rigid. Lifting her head onto her hand, she propped herself up on her elbows while clutching the sheet tightly to her. Who the hell was that? It wasn't even daybreak yet. The lights on her room came on all at once, and she jumped yet again when out of nowhere that annoying Evans girl appeared in front of her. Her surprised quickly turned to anger. Who the hell was she, bursting into her room and waking her up in the middle of the night? But…she did look slightly pale and worried, not too much, but just enough to unsettle her. What was it?

"I've been told to tell you that you've been asked to the boat deck…immediately."

"What? I'm not waking up and going outside! It's the middle of the FUCKING NIGHT!" honestly. She didn't think the girl was THAT stupid, but obviously she was a few degrees dumber than she had originally thought.

"DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS IN THE FUCKING NIGHT!" normally, Sharpay could control her temper fairly well, but with all the stress that was already consuming her, she did NOT need to get into a fight with a spoilt rich bitch. "Here, put this on." She laid out an evening dress, the kind of thing she would wear to dinner, a fur coat-snow fox to be exact- and a….a life jacket. "Please." She said it so calmly and so quietly that it made her immediately jump out of bed. Something told her to listen. She vaguely heard the door open and close, but by then, her thoughts were consumed with questions.

But, something was definitely wrong. She must have been hung over still, because she kept overstepping, as if she was missing the floor. It was vaguely frightening, but she wouldn't dwell on that. The boat deck was waiting.

D Deck

Harold Jensen hauled another mail bag into an empty stateroom, swearing slightly. Soon this room would be filled with mail, and soon after that; water. It was already starting up the stairs, and it was climbing rapidly. It was almost like it was trying to race them, like it wanted to play a deadly game of tag…only this time, no matter what, the water would win. He didn't dare to try to go back down. Last time had been enough of a challenge. The water was freezing, and the chairs floating calmly in the hallway created obstacles that took energy to move. He was taken out of his thoughts when one of his companions, Julian Franco came in, carrying two bags. He looked cold, and wet: his clothes were soaked from his waist down, the bags dripping wet.

"We can't go back" he said, his words almost undecipherable due to his chattering teeth and thick Italian accent "the waters touching the ceiling in the sorting room, and we can barely get out the door with the mail bags. The waters pushing the door closed…or at least it's trying too. It would be foolish to go."

Against his better judgment, he shook his head "no….it's our job. We swore to protect this mail, and I'm not about to give up." Pushing his friend out of the way, he walked down the not so even hall to the stairs where he froze. It had climbed seven stairs since he had last been there two minutes ago. How was that possible? He knew because as he stopped to rest on the landing, the water had come rushing up over the final stair, and he had been left standing in an increasingly deeper puddle. "Oh my God."

Walking down the steps slowly, he gasped when the water touched his skin. It was so cold…like ice. He started down the stairs, taking deep breaths. Behind him, he heard his friend start down after him. Gladdened that he wouldn't have to go back down all by himself, he waded with new vigor to the second set of steps. The water was only about a foot from the ceiling, but he knew that once he got into the mail room, he would have about three. Plenty of time to grab the closest bundle and start back toward the stairs. That would be it though. He was done after this.

Diving into the water, he swam under the water into the mail room. Collins and Joseph were somewhere close by but he couldn't see them. Frank was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had gotten out already? He wasn't so sure. "F…F…Frank! W..wh….where a…are you?"

"He's d…drowned" Joseph came swimming out from behind a floating bookshelf "I saw wif me own eyes."

Realizing that would all be their fate if they wasted any more time, he said "Its time too-" but he never got to finish his sentence. Suddenly, the ship seemed to plunge downward, and they were all under water. Panicking, he twirled in the water. He saw the blurry shape of Julian floundering in the water, but the salt water hurt his eyes. Collins was starting through the doorway into the hall, swimming frantically toward the stairs. His air was all but escaping through his gaping mouth in a silent scream. But before he could even think about looking for Joseph, there was a sudden zapping noise and the lights in the room seemed to explode; plunging them into darkness. They were dead. At least he and Julian: he could still feel him panicking in the water although it was starting to become less violent…more heavy. He closed his eyes, wondering if Julian had been right about God…he would never know.

A sudden pain in his chest erupted inside of him, and he grabbed at his heart. His body started to convulse wildly and his eyes-he could feel them-roll up into the back of his head. Something warm and metallic was coming from his mouth…and then slowly, he faded from consciousness.

E Deck-D Deck Stairs

The water suddenly seemed to jump a few feet, and the lights above the stairs seemed to grow darker before returning to their original brightness. Splashes from the deck below hollowly came up from the small airspace which quickly vanished, leaving the passage to E Deck totally impassible. A steady stream of air bubbles erupted, bubbling merrily for a few seconds against the back of the staircase leading toward the next level. Then nothing more. A loud boom was heard, and the lights on the floor below all seemed to grow dark leaving the sea water a murky dark green-blue. And then with a light whoosh, the body of a man surfaced, floating languidly on the landing. As the body turned over onto its back, the cold, unseeing eyes of Collins stared up toward the whitewashed ceiling. A look of terror frozen on his face for eternity.

And slowly, the water climbed.

Alright you guys! Chapter 11 is DONE. Lol. I'm sorry Its short- it's about a page under what I usually write- but I have another research paper to do and I went on a first date on Friday. Anyway, review! Hope you like it. Oh, and the loud boom is one of the boilers exploding. That actually happened. And those five were the first (documented) to die that night. So yeah... Oh and remember to vote on my poll. I like to get my ideas going for a new fanfiction for a little bit before I start to write so I want to know what you guys think I should write. Via the poll... Lol. Thanks for reading this, and thanks for your reviews they mean a lot.

~Troypayisbetter