The Thing from the Sea (Tales from the Crypt #20, Oct/Nov 1950)

You are about to begin a frightful adventure concerning a luxurious ocean liner and the strange and unexplained events that will occur in...Stateroom 13! You are on a crowded pier in New York, trying to secure passage on the "Ocean Queen", bound for England. The trip is urgent and you are pleading with the purser.

YOU: "But you must have one berth open! I'll take any class!"

PURSER: "Well, as a matter of fact, sir, that is...if you're not superstitious."

What wonderful luck. Only one of the two berths in Stateroom 13 has been taken. You pay the purser and board the ship. And not a moment too soon for as you reach the top of the gangplank...

OCEAN QUEEN CREW: "Cast off the forward lines!" "Make ready for departure!" "Last call! All ashore that's going ashore!"

You watch as the dock slips away. The little tugs straining and pushing the giant liner out into midstream. Then...

STEWARD: "May I take your bags and show you to your cabin, sir?"

YOU: "Why, thank you, Steward."

STEWARD: "Ah, what number stateroom do you have, sir?"

YOU: "Why, 13!"

The color drains from the Steward's cheeks. His eyes fill with horror as he stares at you.

YOU: "Why, what seems to be the trouble, Steward?"

STEWARD: "Oh, er...nothing, sir. Nothing."

The Steward sets your bags down in your Stateroom, checks the porthole to see that it is securely bolted and then edges toward the door. There is a look of fear on his face.

YOU: "What is it, old man? What is there about this cabin that frightens you?"

STEWARD: "I...I...don't know. Only...only...no one who has ever been assigned this cabin has completed his crossing in it. Something, someone, frightens them into leaving it. Why, one passenger even went mad from what he saw here."

YOU: "Wha...? What did they see? Tell me!"

The Steward mumbles something about ghosts and slips from your grasp. You watch as he hurries down the corridor and then you close the door.

YOU: "Ghosts, bah! He's probably playing a trick on me. Suggestion and stuff."

You stow your belongings in your assigned berth and survey the cabin. It it small with one porthole and the two berths.

YOU: "Hmmm. I wonder who has the upper? His baggage is here. He's probably up on deck saying goodbye to the good old U.S.A."

After dinner, you decide to turn in. You are tired and the free sea air made you sleepy.

YOU: "Oh, hello? I guess you must be my roommate. Glad to meet you."

MAN: "Same here. Rather small stateroom, isn't it? Had to take it. Only one left."

YOU: "Yes, that's what they told me. Well, guess I'll turn in. I'm pretty tired."

MAN: "Me, too. Glad you're here, though. The Steward told me some awful yarn about this room."

YOU: "Oh, I wouldn't take it seriously. He's probably pulling your leg."

MAN: "Yes, well, good night."

You don't know how long you've been asleep. Only...suddenly your eyes are open. Your stateroom smells strange The peculiar smell of dampness, stale seawater. And you are cold. A gush of air is coming from the open porthole.

YOU: "Blast! The porthole is open! I'd better close it or risk a nasty cold!"

You get up and stumble to the porthole in the darkness. The bolts have been loosened and the fine spray from the sea wets your face. You slam it shut, bolting it tightly and then, from the berth above yours, comes a blood-curdling cry.

AAHH!

YOU: "What the?"

With a single leap, your roommate springs from his berth to the floor and dashes madly toward the stateroom door.

YOU: "What is it? What's wrong?"

MAN: "No! No! No!"

You listen to his footsteps running full speed down the corridor. Poor old boy. Probably seasick. You shut the door and grope your way back to your berth. Your eyes close and you sleep again. Then, during the early morning hours, you are awakened by a groan.

O-O-O-O-O-H!

YOU: "Hmmm! Not a very good sailor. Poor chap. Listen to him moan."

The next morning, the sun-streaming through the porthole awakens you and you dress quickly. The curtains of the upper berth are drawn. You leave without disturbing your roommate.

YOU: "Probably isn't in the mood for breakfast anyway."

On deck, the ship's doctor stops you.

DOCTOR: "I...I wonder if you can tell me what happened last night? We found your roommate cowering in a passage babbling like an idiot."

YOU: "Wha...? You mean, he didn't come back to the stateroom?"

DOCTOR: "No. We have him in the ship's hospital. He's suffering from shock. Can you tell me what he saw that might have caused it?"

YOU: "I...I have no idea."

DOCTOR: "Look, you have a large cabin. Why don't you bring your things over there and spend the rest of your trip with me?"

YOU: "Oh, really, doctor. Are you inferring that the rumors about Stateroom 13 are true?"

You laugh, refusing the doctor's invitation. You spend the day relaxing in your deck-chair, swimming in the ship's pool and playing canasta in the game room after dinner. It is very late when you return to your room.

YOU: "Ho-hum. Gad, I'm tired! That berth certainly looks inviting."

You check the porthole to see that it is securely bolted and then you stretch out on your berth. You lay awake thinking about the agonizing scream of your roommate the night before, when...

YOU: "What the? The porthole is open again and, phew, that smell of seawater and decay."

You get up and close it. You are frightened. You distinctly remember checking it before you went to bed. You tighten the bolts with all of your strength and stand there for a while, staring out to sea. Suddenly...

O-O-O-O-O-H!

YOU: "What's that? A moan coming from the upper berth."

You spring to the berth and tear the curtains apart, thrusting your hand in to discover if there is anyone there.

YOU: "That smell! That nauseating smell of stagnant saltwater! And...and...AAAAAAAGH!"

You take hold of something...something cold and wet, icy cold, something like a man's arm. And as you pull, the creature hurls itself from the berth. A clammy, oozy mass.

YOU: "Keep away! Keep away!"

In an instant, the horrible abomination has darted out of the stateroom door.

YOU: "Good lord! So that's what is is! I...I'll follow it!"

You chase the dark shadow through the dimly-lit passage and up to the companionway.

YOU: "Blasted thing! It's getting away!"

You watch as it seems to go over the rail and into the sea.

YOU: "I...must be dreaming. That cursed meal tonight, it...it didn't agree with me."

You cannot return to that horrible room, so you walk the deck, finally curling up in a deck chair under a steamer blanket to sleep a dreamless sleep. The morning sun blinds you as you are shaken awake.

YOU: "Oh, it...it is you, captain!"

CAPTAIN: "I went to your stateroom. You weren't there. Is anything wrong?"

YOU: "Well, frankly, captain, there is! Something very horrible happened in my stateroom last night. It must have been my imagination."

CAPTAIN: "Why don't you let me fix you up in the officer's quarters for the remainder of the trip?"

YOU: "Look, here, captain. Can't we get to the bottom of this? There must be a logical explanation."

CAPTAIN: "You are right, sir. Only what can I do? I'm inclined to board up the room."

YOU: "That will solve thing. Perhaps it's only a stowaway trying to frighten people out of that stateroom so that he can spend the remainder of the trip in comfort. A maniac perhaps."

CAPTAIN: "Hmm! That thought has never occurred to me. You may be right. I tell you what. Tonight, I will stand watch with you. If he shows his face, we'll be able to overpower him together."

YOU: "Good, captain. I'm glad you are taking a more realistic attitude than your superstitious crew."

You are relieved that you will not have to spend another night alone in that accursed stateroom. Together with the captain, tonight you may solve this baffling problem.

CAPTAIN: "See you then, at about ten!"

YOU: "Yes, Stateroom 13!"

You day is spent anxiously and towards evening, you find yourself becoming nervous. Finally, it is ten o'clock and you make your way down to the stateroom.

YOU: "Ah, captain. Right on time I see."

CAPTAIN: "Let's go in!"

You check the porthole, you and the captain, and make sure that it is tightly bolted.

YOU: "I'll sit here on the berth. Why don't you sit there on my valise?"

CAPTAIN: "Good. Now shall we turn out the light?"

The room is dark. Only the hum of the engines is heard far below and the muffled roar of the sea outside. Suddenly, you rush to the porthole and slam it shut. Some strange force seems to resist you.

YOU: "Here we go, captain! Things are beginning to pop!"

CAPTAIN: "I...I...AAAAAAAH!"

You spin around. The thing, the horrible creature of last night is rising out of the top berth. The captain is shrinking back.

YOU: "That's...that's it! Let's get it, captain!"

CAPTAIN: "No! No! It can't be you! You're dead! I murdered you! I killed you right here in that berth! Pushed you out that porthole into the sea! You can't be! You can't!"

Horrified, you watch. The captain slumps to the floor, white as chalk. Then, satisfied, the thing turns and hurls itself out of the porthole.

YOU: "Good lord!"

The captain is dead. Literally frightened to death. And as you turn to look after the thing, you are astounded to see that...

YOU: "The porthole is closed and...bolted!"