Author's Note - This novel, a re-envisioning the classic Dark Kingdom arc with a strong focus on realism, characterization, and exploration of inner turmoil, is the culmination of over two decade's worth of work in Sailor Moon fanfiction. It's a great joy to finish writing something that has taken so long to craft. I hope you enjoy reading it.
Comments are greatly appreciated - they keep me inspired to write on. Constructive criticism is always welcome and never shunned.
Jan 2021 update: Despite feeling some serious writer's fatigue after writing Part I, I have started writing the subsequent books in the series. I have made some changes in this Prolog for continuity with the later books. Timelines for the subsequent parts will be updated in my profile.
Content warning: mature themes, swearing
Fractured
Part I: Disingenuous
- Prolog -
Perfect Host
The deck of the posh, classic yacht was completely deserted. The bite of the night's nippy air was unforgiving and had driven everyone inside many hours ago.
Zoe leaned up against the window, her perky nose grazing the cold glass. "The fog sure has gotten thick," she commented aloud, squinting her emerald eyes to scarcely make out the tip of the vessel through the heavy fog. The hazy, grey myopia created an unsettling feeling in her stomach. "Quickly, too."
Tonight, the Pacific Ocean waters off the south coast of Japan, having long had a notoriety for unpredictable weather among seafarers, were living up to their egregious reputation. The rough waves had abruptly abated and a calm, glass-like finish spread over the water while the night air turned chillingly cool and moist. The sudden change in weather invited a dense fog that rapidly descended over the temperamental waters.
For the little she could see, Zoe might as well have been looking at her reflection in a dull, smoky mirror. The silhouette of her wavy blonde hair, done up in a ponytail, was clearly outlined on the glass. Her updo showcased her elegant diamond earrings, their luster apparent even in the darkness of her somber reflection.
"How can you even find a dock like this?" she asked, her attention still partly consumed in analyzing her muted likeness.
"Hmph! You act as though this is my first time doing this. Have some confidence, will you?" the captain replied with smug confidence. He was a tall, well-built, and relatively handsome man not beyond his thirties. His shoulder-length, bleached-white hair seemed strange at first to his female companion, who was initially taken aback by it. With every glass of wine she consumed, however, it seemed a little less bizarre. The night had progressed slowly, having left plenty of time for her to empty and refill her glass numerous times. How many glasses is that now? Four? Five? Six? She had lost count a while ago, noticing her inebriation only when she found herself actually starting to like the captain's hair.
Through conversation, she had found her companion to be a rather kind man in spirit and gesture. He had been generous enough to loan her his navy blue captain's jacket, which she currently had draped around her shoulders to keep warm, though goose pimples still covered her arms. Zoe turned to the captain, watching as his pale grey eyes scanned the multiple panels and gauges before him without missing a beat. Despite the incredibly low visibility amidst the heavy haze, he pressed forth toward the private marina in Tokyo Bay that awaited them.
"Sorry. It's just that I can't wait for this night to be over," she replied, desperately hoping the fog would not lengthen the duration of their return voyage from Izu Oshima, the largest island of an archipelago of volcanic islands southwest of Tokyo.
"Well, I'm sorry this outing wasn't much of a success for you," the captain consoled her, reflecting on her circumstances aboard the vessel.
"That's an understatement," she underscored his remark as she swirled around the remaining white wine in her glass before downing it in one, unlady-like gulp.
Indeed, the entire evening had been a bust for the wealthy entrepreneur; she had intended on securing a lucrative contract with the foreign multimillionaire whose yacht she currently found herself in, only to be tossed aside while he cavorted with another woman. In response, Zoe had tried to gain the attention of the chef - a very tall and handsome man with short, curly, golden locks of hair and crystal clear blue eyes - but much to her dismay, he was not keen on keeping company and had shooed her away from his kitchen. Similarly, the yacht's engineer - another attractive tall, blonde male, who looked nearly identical to the chef - had griped something about the engines needing his full attention and had firmly shut the engine room's door on her. This was not the treatment she was used to; usually, men tended to gravitate toward her and she had to feign disinterest in their advances. She did not like feeling rejected at all.
As they were still too far away from the mainland for any devices to connect to the internet, there was little to do to whittle away the time until they reached shore. Zoe had resorted to the yacht's bridge to find some companionship. She had been left with nothing else to do but chat up the captain in order to pass the time until they docked.
"Just not your night, I guess," the captain consoled her.
"I don't know why I didn't just press to reschedule," Zoe bemoaned herself. "I thought we'd be going over the details of our joint business venture tonight but it turns out Maxfield is more interested in getting to know his floozy than discussing finances," she stated bitterly.
"You act as though you were surprised," the captain chuckled. "Mr. Stanton leaves all the dull number-crunching to his subordinates. He'd much rather spend his time doing… other things. Or didn't you know that he's got a reputation for fancying the ladies?"
"Hey!" she objected at his insinuation of cluelessness. It was quite the contrary, actually. "I knew that already," Zoe reluctantly admitted in a hushed tone. She had thought that perhaps she could manipulate Maxfield's weakness to her advantage in striking a deal. After all, although she was in her early thirties, she was by no means unattractive. Regular workouts and yoga kept her slender and a light touch of Chanel upon her fair complexion kept her features alluring. Zoe considered herself a little flat in front and behind for her own liking, but she knew ways around those shortcomings.
"So what's the problem then?"
"Nothing," she replied laconically, shifting her eyes.
"Oh, that answer won't work on me! That might've fooled me ten years ago but I know better now. Cost me my marriage, it did, but I know better," the captain resounded with a deep, hearty laugh. "Let me guess - you're upset that he didn't make a pass at you?"
"Pfft," Zoe scoffed, eyeing her empty wine glass with disappointment.
"So he did make a pass at you," he deduced with delight. "Well, then, in that case," he pondered bemusingly, "you either said or did something stupid, completely ruining the moment."
"Yeah, right," Zoe rolled her eyes at the very suggestion. She had class. I really need to get out of here and get some more of that Montrachet, Zoe thought as she looked down at her empty glass once again, pining for more of the wine's delightful buzz. As her host had no problems shrugging her off for the evening, she had no reservations over emptying his cellar of thousand-dollar bottles of fine wine. Zoe regretted not having brought up another bottle with her. If only I hadn't been so flustered by those rejections...
"Alright, throw me a bone then."
"Yeah, I probably should before you embarrass yourself even further," she snickered.
"Wait - I've got it!" the captain cried, his body suddenly alive with excitement and movement as he momentarily released his grip on the helm.
"Oh?" Zoe raised an eyebrow.
"You're jealous!" the captain exclaimed, turning to face Zoe, who remained visibly tight-lipped at the suggestion. The brief split-second hesitation was the only confirmation he needed. "Ha ha! Am I good or what?" he asked rhetorically. He quickly turned his attention back to the myriad of display panels in front of him, his body once again reverting to a tall statue fixed in its place.
Zoe hated being so easy to read. Her emotions often got the best of her and it was impossible for her to hide them. After some mulling, she decided there was no use in further denial and confessed what was on her mind. "It's not so much that he passed me up - it's who he's passing me up for."
"Oh?" the captain seemed puzzled. "What's wrong with Ms. Osaka?" he asked curiously.
"That she's, like… ten years older than me, that's what! Getting passed up for a nineteen-year-old Brazilian swimsuit model with big tits and a huge butt? Fine. I can live with that," she declared emphatically, her hands wildly gesticulating her frustration. Her looks and body, although still alluring, were not what they once had been. Despite her immense wealth, lavish clothes, and jewelry, she knew she could not compete with the firmness and tightness of a young, exotic beauty. Time was not on her side.
The captain just nodded his head silently.
His muteness bugged Zoe. She wanted him to say that he was on her side. "That woman is... what? Pushing forty!?" she declared with palpable contempt. "She's already got a kid for God's sake!" She had overheard Mayumi mention her daughter as they boarded the yacht.
"Lord's name, Zoe," the captain admonished without as much a glance at her.
"Oh, whatever," she rolled her eyes. "Didn't take you for the religious type, Malachi."
No words came out of the captain. Instead, he just smiled out of the corner of his mouth and shrugged ever so slightly.
"What's he see in her anyway?"
"My honest opinion?" Malachi asked.
"Yes."
After some deliberation, he shared his thoughts. "I figure he finally got bored of those gold-digging models. They each say they're different, but believe me, they're not. Dime a dozen. Heck, I've steered this very vessel with a dozen of them on board, even! Sure, they're a nice piece of eye candy… but when it comes down to it, they're all after the same thing - Maxfield's money. I'm sure he's had enough of them to realize that. Believe it or not, there's only so much a man can take of an endless swarm of attractive women!"
Zoe was not satisfied. "You didn't answer my question," she pointed out dryly.
"Mayumi's different. For starters, she's mature. She's not looking for some sugar daddy to finance her trips and accrue fame on social media. In fact, she's got her own lucrative business. She's not after his money."
"Oh?" Zoe raised an eyebrow. "And exactly what does she do, may I ask?"
"Sells fine jewelry, I understand."
"Oh, please. I've never even heard of her until today," Zoe scoffed. "I bet I can buy her entire inventory multiple times over. Hell, this Harry Winston set alone is probably worth more than her inventory," she boasted, gently caressing the teardrop necklace that danced just below her collarbone.
"A tad bitter, hmm?"
Zoe thought about the captain's comment. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew she was coming across as petty and vindictive. Her frustration had been quick to surface and all the wine she had already consumed was not making it any easier to keep it in check. "I'm sorry, Malachi. I didn't mean to sour your evening too. I'm sure I'm coming across as a complete venomous bitch."
"It's nothing," he dismissed her. "My ex-wife, now, that was one venomous woman!" he laughed heartily once more. "Don't know what I saw in that one!" Zoe watched as he shook his head, no doubt casting off memories of a life long ago. She enjoyed his attempt at levity. She realized he was quite a charming man. Perhaps a bit odd for her usual tastes, but his demeanor had made this evening much more bearable. Nevertheless, she still felt the need to glance at her diamond-encrusted Chopard watch.
"We still have a while to go," Malachi stated plainly, having sensed her impatience. "At least there's food on the way. Let's see how that's coming along." Without taking his eyes off the display panels, he lifted a radio transmitter next to him and spoke into it. "Jed, we'll be docking in approximately another ninety minutes. Mr. Stanton will be wanting his dinner before we reach land."
"Way ahead of you, Mal. Dinner's ready now. Dan wants to just continue working on the engines, so I'll just be bringing up the food to you and our other guest after I deliver it to the boss," the chef replied, his voice crackled and distorted by static.
Our other guest. The words cut into Zoe. Even the chef, whose dreamy good looks she had soaked in from only a quick glance, saw her as a third wheel. Still feeling quite jilted by her unsuccessful attempt to entice him earlier this evening, she figured this would be her ideal, if not final, opportunity to seduce him and show him how wrong he had been to pass on her earlier on. This other guest knew what to do with a man.
"You know what? I think I'll head down to get some more wine. You know, give Jed a hand bringing it all up," Zoe stood up hastily, removing the captain's jacket from around her bare shoulders and smoothing out the wrinkles on her beige and black Alexander Wang cocktail dress. "What vintage would you prefer?"
"I've had my fill," Malachi declined politely. It was the answer Zoe had hoped for - she had no intention of returning without first having made her conquest. The last thing she needed was an errand to run and a time limit on top of it. Zoe exchanged her empty wine glass for her black Lana Marks clutch and quickly exited the bridge, realizing too late that her plan to 'accidentally' bump into Jed along the way might have been too transparent to fool Malachi. It was an embarrassingly immature oversight but it was impossible to do anything about it now. Besides, at this point she only cared about obtaining her man, lest she should spend another ninety minutes fumbling from one topic of conversation to another with the captain - or worse yet, alone in her cabin with nothing but her rage.
Zoe hiked her already short cocktail dress further up her thigh and readjusted the top to expose more of her chest. That should be enough to convince that aloof chef to reconsider. Zoe anticipated his route and rushed across the fog-laden deck to stop just shy of the narrow stairs Jed would have to ascend to reach Maxfield's quarters. It was an odd ship design but she was grateful for it at the moment. Out of view and backed up against the wall, she withdrew her crimson Guerlain lipstick and a pocket mirror from her clutch for a quick touch up. It was no easy task with her head spinning from all the wine she had already consumed, but she figured the dim lighting on the exterior of the yacht would mask any imperfections. To her panic, the sound of nearby footsteps appeared and she hurriedly crammed her belongings back into her clutch. Zoe recollected herself as quickly as her tipsy mind would allow and turned the corner, and put on a sultry, debonair performance as she walked down the first few steps. She acted surprised at Jed's presence.
"Oh, my! You startled me!" she gasped, placing a delicate hand on her chest as though to calm a racing heart.
"Sorry," Jed replied tersely as he proceeded up the narrow stairs with a covered food tray in hand.
Zoe descended, the curviness of her slender legs accentuated by her black Christian Louboutin pumps. She imagined it was quite a fantastic view from down below. Much to her dismay, however, Jed continued his ascent without even as much as a quick glance at her. It was the fourth time Zoe had been ignored completely this day, which she found altogether unacceptable. She was not about to let him just slip past this time.
"Not so fast there," she extended her arm across the narrow stairs, blocking the chef's way.
"Do you need something?" he asked, direct and to the point.
"Well, now that you ask, some company would be nice," Zoe flirtatiously ran her free hand through her tan blonde hair. The chef just looked at her and it became clear to her that she would need to be more forward - though she had hoped Jed would have clued in by this point. It was time to reel in her catch and she determinedly reached out for the chef's collar to draw him close. Instead of securing him in her grasp, however, she lost balance and tumbled down the stairs, taking Jed down with her. It was the clumsiest move she had ever made advancing on someone. With every aching bump against the hard and unforgiving mahogany steps, she cursed her wanton consumption of wine throughout the evening. Eventually, their two tangled bodies came to a sudden and painful stop on the lower deck along with the loud din of silverware and the clamour of broken plates and glasses. The deliciously aromatic meal of roasted duck seasoned with basil, fennel, and mint, all glazed with honey, was strewn all about them. I really should have stopped at three glasses, Zoe chastised herself, her mortifying embarrassment intensifying her pain. She sorely raised herself up a few centimetres, and quickly realized she had landed squarely on top of Jed. The chef opened his eyes slowly, the end of Zoe's now disheveled ponytail gently brushing against his face.
"Hi," she smiled coyly, hoping to play it cool rather than own up to the klutziness which had ruined the chef's hard work.
"Get off me," Jed ordered dispassionately.
"What? No sense of romance?" she asked teasingly, placing her hand on his chest, her sticky, honeyed fingers leaving a mark on his formerly immaculate white chef's uniform. Without words, Jed hastily tossed Zoe aside and got up. "'No' would have sufficed, you know," she berated his lack of tact, checking to see whether now she had sat on part of the meal as well.
"Could you possibly be any more ignorant?" he retorted. "We just struck something." Jed's words took a moment to sink in. Zoe's daze, now a mix of alcohol and bruises, slowed her reaction time. 'Struck something'? It seemed surreal and implausible but even she knew she was beyond tipsy and should not make any claim to the contrary. Had she not been so focused on seducing Jed, maybe she would have noticed. Suddenly, the fear of a capsizing yacht and having to abandon ship - into the dark, temperamental waters of the Pacific Ocean - overwhelmed Zoe's thoughts.
"We hit rocks?" Zoe asked, trying to keep her fright in check as she brushed rice from the front of her dress.
"No. Malachi knows these waters well," Jed replied as he headed past Zoe and marched up the stairs without as much as even offering to help her up, leaving her surrounded by the spoiled dinner.
"Another boat, then?" she cried after him. Whether he had heard or not, he did not bother to respond before slipping out of view and into the fog. "Seems chivalry is dead," Zoe muttered to herself as she readjusted her top, thankful that she had not popped out of her dress. She hurriedly brushed off the remaining pieces of the dinner from her arms and legs, picked up her clutch and pumps - the latter having flown completely off her feet during the tumble - and proceeded back to the bridge with great anxiety over Jed's announcement.
"Just what the hell did we just hit?" Maxfield demanded authoritatively. Pumps in hand, Zoe could hear the voices on the bridge even before she could see it.
The handsome, statuesque multimillionaire, still in his late twenties, had been quick to show up on the bridge to assess the situation. His long, wavy, brown hair danced about with every motion of his head as he rapidly scanned the display panels. Zoe, who stood at the entrance to the bridge as she watched the three men analyze the situation, had expected Maxfield to rip into the captain for damaging the luxury vessel, but to her surprise, the multimillionaire did not seem interested in placing blame. Like Jed, he appeared to have the utmost respect for Malachi's abilities as a navigator.
"There was nothing on the radar," Malachi stated. "We're too far out to have struck rocks. There shouldn't be anything out here. I'm certain of that."
"We need to make sure we're not sinking."
"We'll need all hands on deck to inspect the hull. We've got sixty meters to go over," Malachi noted. He lifted the radio transmitter. "Dan, we're going to need a hand up here. What's the word from down there?"
"Everything is ... operational. Nothing's wrong as far as I can tell. I'll need a bit of time to make sure, however."
"Make your way up as soon as you've confirmed that, then. We need to make a thorough inspection of the hull."
"Got it," Dan's voice crackled back from the transmitter.
"You think there's a breach?" asked Jed.
"Doubt it. We weren't going fast enough to puncture the hull. It's a tough boat. Still, we need to be absolutely sure."
"I'll get the flashlight," Jed offered. Zoe admired Jed's task-oriented nature as he headed to the grey equipment chest at the rear of the bridge.
"Is everything okay?" Zoe was surprised to not have noticed Mayumi Osaka, the very bane of her evening, walk up beside her. She wore a plain, but elegant, sleeveless burgundy cocktail dress that hugged her slender figure. Her vibrant auburn hair was ornately done up, exposing lustrous and expensive teardrop earrings while a matching necklace adorned her chest, resting comfortably above her ample cleavage. Zoe did not respond to Mayumi's question out of spite, although she had nothing to contribute regardless.
Equipped with a large, high-power flashlight hanging to his side from a cross-body strap, Jed walked past the two of them, yet again ignoring Zoe's presence altogether. The two other men followed in similar fashion, all of them marching toward the bow of the ship and becoming nothing but mere silhouettes in the fog to the two women who remained where they stood. The men leaned over the starboard side of the bow to examine the concave hull, which proved difficult in the current weather. To compensate for the poor visibility, Maxfield and Malachi held onto Jed as he teetered over the chrome railing for a closer look. Zoe, not wanting to intervene or become a nuisance, watched from a distance, and hoped for good news. Zoe observed Mayumi, who remained next to her. She seemed equally as anxious as her over their current predicament. Despite her earlier protestations, Zoe noticed that Mayumi looked very posh and youthful for someone her age. No, it must be the wine...
"Do you see anything?" Dan cried out as he set foot on the upper deck. Despite looking very similar to Jed, his hands and clothes were stained with oil and grease from working below deck. It was quite the antithesis of Jed's immaculate chef's uniform… at least, before Zoe had toppled over him along with the night's meal.
"No. Not. Not here. Let's move down."
As the four men systematically worked their way toward the stern of the yacht, Zoe shifted slightly so she could see them better, although she was now more exposed to the chill of the night. She could feel the cold enveloping the entirety of her body, working its way into her very core. She tried to ignore the uncomfortable sensation as best she could as she watched in admiration as Jed dangled over the edge of the yacht. He shone the bright light onto the water below, its brightness refracting on the water's surface. "Hull seems okay here. Definitely don't see any rocks, either," he shouted back to the deck.
"Did we run into a whale?" Maxfield turned to Malachi, looking for an answer.
The captain mulled over the possibility of that scenario. "It's extremely rare, but it's been known to happen."
"It would explain why there's no breach," Dan added.
"Hmmm…" Malachi thought some more. But before he had a chance to respond any further, Jed's voice rang out from the starboard side of the yacht.
"Oh, shit!" Those two words were enough to send Zoe's fears of a sinking boat creeping beyond her mind and sending waves of uneasiness and panic to her limbs, numbing her from head to toe. The shadowy depths of the ocean terrified her. Not knowing what could be down there was an unpleasant thought, however irrational.
"What is it?"
Zoe did not want to hear the response to that question. Judging from how Mayumi was nervously caressing her necklace between her fingers, neither did she.
"You're not going to like this, boss - we're leaking something. We definitely punctured the hull."
"Fuck!" Maxfield kicked the railing with frustration, almost letting go of Jed. The sudden vibration from the rattling railing startled the chef, causing him to immediately grab on to it for security. Dan hastily reached out to clasp Jed by the forearm for reassurance.
"Well, this is going to be a problem," Malachi muttered to himself. He thought for a moment again. "You're certain?" he asked, demanding absolute assurance in Jed's diagnosis.
"Yeah. I'm looking at it now. No doubt about it," he shouted back.
The captain turned to the ship's engineer. "I thought you said everything was fine. Did you check the dials properly, Dan?"
"Yes, I did," he responded with a hint of annoyance. "The gauges were all normal... unless they are all malfunctioning - which I sincerely doubt."
Malachi pensively rubbed his chin. "Yeah, I doubt that too."
The three men pulled Jed back over the railing and he planted his feet firmly on the deck once more. He quickly readjusted his chef's uniform but not before Zoe had caught a glimpse of his chiseled abs. The flashlight had caught them perfectly. She bit her lower lip and wished for this situation to be over.
"So, what's your best guess? What's that liquid? Where's it coming from?" asked Maxfield.
"Those are good questions," Malachi replied and then fell silent.
"Time's ticking," Jed interrupted the captain's train of thought after some time.
"Yeah, I know."
"Should we send out an SOS?" Dan asked in dismay, turning to the yacht's disheartened owner.
Maxfield circled the deck in frustration, clearly mulling over Dan's question. Zoe knew that despite the multimillionaire being wealthy enough to buy countless new luxury yachts, this one was custom-built. If it could be salvaged, he would likely take that chance, even if repairs would lessen the value of this one-of-a-kind yacht. Of course, that was in the best case scenario - the ship could likely sink before they even got to land if the hull breach was wide enough.
"It's foggy as hell, we're five meters up from the water and it's fucking pitch black down there," Maxfield expressed doubt over Jed's conclusion. "I'm not ready to send out an SOS or jump ship based on your assessment." Zoe was impressed by Maxfield's directness. Her muse did not seem fazed by it.
"I can't tell where it's coming from but it's visible just below the water," Jed defended his diagnosis.
"No, that can't be," Dan protested, "such a leak would require a far more forceful collision... and definitely not from the front." Zoe surmised that as the ship's engineer, he had intimate knowledge of the layout of the yacht. She was inclined to believe him, even if it meant betraying her faith in the chef.
"Who wants to be proven wrong?" Jed asked, confident in his position.
Maxfield gave an upwards nod in the captain's direction. Jed removed the shoulder strap from around his neck and handed over the flashlight.
"See for yourself."
Malachi raised a leg to step over the waist-high railing.
"Here, old man," Maxfield teased, offering Malachi support with an outstretched arm.
"I've got plenty more decades before these sea legs give out," the captain declined, already set to take a closer inspection over the starboard side of the yacht. Zoe knew that only about a decade separated Malachi and Maxfield, so calling him 'old man' was either an inside joke or the multimillionaire also had opinions about Malachi's bleached white hair.
"Oh, I sure hope he says we're okay. I really don't want to have to abandon ship," Mayumi shared her thoughts with Zoe as they watched the silhouetted men attend to the situation. Zoe, despite having similar anxieties, remained tight-lipped. Of everyone on board, only Mayumi had a child. Surely, she had her daughter in mind, Zoe figured. She was glad not to be in a similar position.
Dan and Jed held onto him as he teetered over the edge of the yacht. They all remained silent as Malachi surveyed the water below. Time seemed to drag on as everyone's collective anxiety tensed up on the deck of the yacht. His verdict would determine the course of action for every person on board.
Malachi's verdict was met with great anticipation from everyone. "Unfortunately, it appears that Jed is right," he announced reluctantly after much deliberation. Indeed, there was an opaque, black liquid clouding the water around the vessel, he admitted. "I can't, in good conscience, try to get us back to shore. There's a chance we'll take on too much water to make it."
"We'll need to put out an SOS and set up the life raft then," Jed said with regret, shaking his head with dismay.
Malachi shifted his weight to pull himself up with a grunt. Dan and Jed assisted in pulling him up to the railing.
"See? You are getting old," the young multimillionaire taunted. "C'mon," he extended out his hand once again to help him over the railing.
"You'll be thirty-seven soon enough," Malachi scoffed, ignoring Maxfield's offer of assistance yet again. He raised his leg to climb over the chrome rail once more, but before anyone had time to react, Malachi lost his balance and fell overboard. He broke the surface of the water with a loud splash. Maxfield doubled over in laughter, heartily enjoying the captain's unfortunate misstep.
Zoe hastily made her way toward the men, worried that the captain had been hurt from the fall. Still tipsy, she clasped the chrome rail to counteract her lack of balance before speaking. She did not want her inebriation to undermine her assertiveness. "Stop being such a pompous douchebag and help him!" she criticized her would-be host. At that instant, it was clear to Zoe that Maxfield became aware of her presence for the first time for quite some time, having forgotten about her much earlier in the evening. He gave her a look of disapproval - this was his yacht, after all, and surely he did not like to take orders from anyone, much less a guest.
Maxfield turned back to Malachi who was treading the black water. "Guess you should have taken my hand after all, huh?" he shouted at the captain, still rejoicing at Malachi's accident. He had altogether chosen to ignore Zoe, much to her annoyance.
"Quit clowning around and toss me the ladder!" he retorted. "In case you forgot, you're on a sinking vessel - we have plenty to do before the ship goes under!" Malachi reminded them.
Maxfield motioned with his head once again and Jed immediately walked back toward the bow of the yacht. He tossed the nylon rope ladder over the edge. Malachi muttered something to himself and began swimming towards it. The soft splashing sounds of his strokes suddenly disappeared, however, and only an expanding ring on the water's surface remained where the captain had just been. The flashlight remained on the surface, apathetically buoyant. It had spun toward the white hull, which cast an eerie luminescence back onto the water.
"What's happening?" Zoe cried out, panicking over his disappearance into the dark water. "Where'd he go?"
They all waited, everyone as confused as Zoe.
"I'm going in for him," Jed stated without missing a beat as he hastily hopped over the rail in one smooth motion and dove into the water below with the agility of an Olympic diver. At a glance, it seemed that Maxfield was not yet concerned, confident that the captain was safe - perhaps playing out a joke of his own. Zoe nervously watched as Jed swam toward Malachi's last known position. Once there, he, too, disappeared under the dark, motionless water, in an attempt to find the captain. The yellow flashlight now pointed out to the seemingly endless black and grey abyss, the surrounding water alit in a dull green-grey haze as the fog danced just above the surface. Zoe waited with bated breath, every second that passed further intensifying her feelings of despair.
Jed dove and resurfaced numerous times, each instance lasting at least ten seconds by Zoe's count. She was trying to focus on a steady count to keep her nerves in check. "I don't see him anywhere!" he cried with obvious concern, after what seemed like hours of frantic searching. Worry, fear and panic churned in Zoe's stomach, producing a disgusting sensation that would make her wretch if not for the sudden tightness in her chest. Jed had initially been confident that he could immediately spot Malachi. Now, it was apparent that even he was beginning to have his doubts, the darkness and fog complicating his search.
"Keep looking!" Zoe shot back, desperately worried about her kind companion. Jed dove back under, this time with the flashlight in tow. It had been the only remark from Zoe he had acknowledged all evening. She realized that her words mattered little, if at all, to the heroic chef who seemed loyal enough to stay in the water all night if that is what it took to find his captain - even if there was no yacht to return to by then. Zoe, who was very unaccustomed to life at sea, could shake the dreadful feeling that as the search for Malachi continued, the ship continued to slowly submerge. If nothing was done soon, they would find themselves in the dark water too. It was a slow asphyxiation that would eventually overwhelm them - an impending doom that relished in drawing out time and fear as it approached.
"There!" Dan shouted unexpectedly, startling everyone on the deck. Somehow, through the fog, he had spotted the captain, floating motionlessly along the stern of the vessel. Within moments, Jed secured had him within his grasp and returned to the nylon ladder dangling along the yacht's side. He carefully ascended the steps with Malachi slumped over his left shoulder in a fireman's carry, water dripping from their blotched clothes which rippled the otherwise smooth surface of the water. Zoe was stooped over the chrome rail and watched anxiously as Maxfield and Dan extended their arms to hoist the unconscious captain onto the deck. Much to Zoe's surprise, Maxfield made no qualms over drenching his tailor-made, navy blue Kiton suit.
Zoe followed the beam of light that projected from the flashlight, which faced at a downward angle from Jed as he climbed. It struck the water head-on, illuminating the swirls of the unidentified black liquid which seemingly moved on their own in the wake of Jed's movement through the water. It was entirely unsettling to her. She immediately stepped back from the ship's edge, the buzz from the wine evidently heightening her anxiety over the unknown.
Maxfield and Dan helped Jed ease Malachi gently onto the deck. Maxfield removed his own blazer to cover the captain and provide him some extra warmth. Zoe knelt next to Malachi and alongside Jed, elated to have them both on board once again. Soon enough, Malachi rolled over slowly and began to cough up water. The sign of life was a great relief to everyone, Zoe especially, who had grown more attached to the man than she had realized.
"He'll be alright?" she asked, as Jed tended to him.
"Yeah. Nothing to worry about," he replied. He removed the flashlight's strap from around his shoulders and set down the unit on the wet deck before proceeding to pat Malachi on the back as he coughed. "He's just taken in some water, that's all."
Zoe was glad the chef was finally acknowledging her. It almost made it possible to overlook being ignored by him throughout the entire night to this point. Almost.
"Good," she smiled, relieved that Malachi was safe. "I'm glad," she placed her hand on his shoulder, which was stained with the mysterious black liquid, much like the rest of him. "That was really brave of you," she complimented him, noticing that his wet chef's uniform clung to his body, highlighting his muscular physique. Zoe glanced upon his dripping wet face. Jed's cool blue eyes were a sharp contrast to the black liquid running down from his sullied golden hair. His captivating gaze was enough to remove Zoe from the chaos of their current predicament, off to some remote tropical island surrounded by pristine water as clear as his eyes. It was not an ideal circumstance to make an advance, but she was sure he would not turn her down this time. It would be a shame if his heroism were to go unnoticed. After all, every good deed deserves a reward... "What do you say I show you how … appreciative I am when we get back to shore?"
He paused, deliberating her proposal. Zoe was hopeful, at last seemingly having pushed past his aloofness and eliciting responses from the handsome chef. "No thanks," he replied, entirely deflating her ego yet again.
Utterly dejected - she had lost count of how many times it had been so far this evening - she got up, unable to face any further embarrassment. She would let him tend to Malachi as he continued to cough between gasps for air. Turning around, she picked up the sound of Mayumi's voice. Zoe had not noticed that she and Maxfield had slipped away, and were both standing alongside Dan at the edge of the yacht. What could possibly be more important than the well-being of the captain? Could they really be so unconcerned about Malachi?
"No, I didn't see anything," she heard Mayumi respond. What are they talking about? Zoe walked towards the three of them, her arms crossed tight against her chest to keep the little warmth she still had. Mayumi's arm was clutched tightly around Maxfield's. Was she scared? Or was she just cold? After all, Mayumi's cocktail dress, much like her own, was less than ideal for this kind of weather. "Why? You saw something?"
The multimillionaire did not respond. He remained quiet and unresponsive as he looked over the railing and down below into the dark water. Dan, too, was eerily silent.
Mayumi looked in the direction of their stares and she, too, became transfixed. Before Zoe could join them, all three of them were standing motionless and speechless.
"W-what's so interesting?" Zoe asked, trying not to sound alarmed. None of them answered, however, leaving her no choice but to once again reluctantly peer over the edge and onto the water below. As she did, she became aware of a dim white noise - a disturbing sound, one like the hum of high-voltage electrical lines, was emanating all around the yacht. It seemed to be coming up from the water itself.
"What is that noise?" Jed asked out loud, coming to join them. He took his spot next to Zoe.
Mayumi pointed in response, not saying a word. Through the fog, something appeared to be rising out of the water, seemingly standing on it. Zoe blinked hard, wondering if her eyes were deceiving her. Yet, instead of disappearing, the dark mass arising from water only crept closer to the yacht. Finally, Zoe spoke, needing confirmation that she was not seeing things on account of her gluttonous alcohol intake. "You … all see that too, right?" she asked in disbelief.
"Y… yeah…"
"Mhmm."
"What … is it?"
"I have no …" Dan's voice trailed off entirely as the unsettling black mass reached the hull. The mysterious blackness began to slowly traverse upward, toward the deck. It was a veritable living shadow with the likeness of a person from the torso up. It had slender arms and a head, but no other discernible features. Without legs, it somehow still slowly crept vertically, unhindered by the vessel's concave exterior or sheen finish. All the while, the disturbing hum was slowly increasing in intensity.
Dan was the first to step back. Zoe wanted to do the same, but she found her body entirely unresponsive. She was completely paralyzed. There was an unsettling queasiness in her stomach and she struggled to contain the contents of her bladder. It was as though the very thing she feared - the unknown of the deep - had materialized and was making its way toward her. To what end? She did not know, and it terrified her even more.
"I want to get a better look. I'm getting the flashlight," Dan stated, wanting to observe the oddity in greater detail. Clearly, he had scientific inclinations and did not feel as terrified as everyone else by the sight of the mysterious black mass.
"No," Maxfield raised his hand in objection, "put out the SOS." Zoe was glad to hear him say that. She was thankful that he did not share the engineer's sense of curiosity. It was evident that Maxfield was equally worried about its presence. Something was amiss. He did not remove his eyes from the black mass. The need to abandon ship was clear, even if none of them knew what they should do thereafter.
Dan nodded in response and turned around to head to the bridge and put out the distress call. What happened next, however, Zoe did not catch in its entirety. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Dan's task met an abrupt end when he was caught by surprise by Malachi's outstretched hands. He had charged into him forcefully and sent the two of them over the slick railing. Dan grabbed onto Jed in a futile attempt to keep himself on board, but instead, he completely lost his balance, and he, too, flipped over the rail. All three men went overboard, and somehow, Zoe followed after them. The whole world spun around her and she came to a painful and abrupt stop against the side of the yacht. Somehow - miraculously - she had managed to keep her hands clasped on to the rail and avoid plunging into the water along with the three men. There was a loud crash as they all broke the surface. Cool droplets of water splashed onto Zoe's calves, sending an unnerving chill up the rest of her body.
There was a sharp pain on the back of her head and back. The best she could figure, when they had gone overboard, one of the men had inadvertently struck her with enough force to cause her to tumble over the railing, which was barely waist-high on her diminutive figure. Zoe shook her head to steady her senses.
"What the hell are you doing, Malachi!?" she could hear Maxfield cry out in anger as the men thrashed about violently in the water. There was a very audible fight going on below her.
Looking upwards, Zoe witnessed a fearful Mayumi urge the multimillionaire to not idly watch the struggle. She tugged at Maxfield's canary yellow dress shirt with desperation. "Put out that SOS, please!" she begged.
"No!" Zoe cried out, the fright in her voice apparent. It caught her by surprise. "Help me up first!" It was an entirely selfish thing to demand, she knew. She did not care. The railing was slippery and she could not gain enough grip to pull herself up. She was afraid of whatever was in the water; years of irrational fear suddenly made manifest in this surreal moment. She did not want to fall into the black water below, much less to be caught in the struggle between the chef, engineer, and the crazed captain. Even over the sound of the unpleasant humming, she could hear Dan attempting to intervene between the other two men. He was shouting at the two of them to stop their feud, but with no success.
"I've got you, hun, don't worry," Mayumi reached down to Zoe, grasping onto her forearms. "Please, get that SOS out!" she turned to Maxfield once again. "I can help her!" she cried as she tightly clasped onto Zoe's wrist.
'Pull harder!' Zoe wanted to shout, knowing that some... thing was still making its way up the side of the ship, somewhere immediately below her. Zoe did not want to look down. She could not look down. She closed her eyes as hard as she could and frantically tried to imagine away the pandemonium around her.
"I can't … get you ... up!" Mayumi spoke with great effort through her clenched teeth. Zoe was dead weight. She was too paralyzed by the chaos to assist Mayumi's efforts.
"Don't let me go!" Zoe pleaded, her grip on the rail slipping by the second. In a panic, she let go with one hand and clasped onto Mayumi with a vice-like grip of pure terror. She desperately latched on to her former rival, now her only lifeline. Zoe replayed things in her mind and could not understand how the evening had deteriorated from being rejected by men to hanging off of the side of a yacht, crippled by the most intense fear she had ever felt.
A chillingly cold and unfamiliar sensation shot up her leg. At first she tried to wish it away, but then it shot up her other leg, too. It was then that she realized the sensation was not more droplets of water from the struggle below. She wanted to open her eyes to confirm her terrifying suspicion - the black mass had locked onto her ankles - but was too fright-stricken and afraid to verify her thoughts.
It was then that she realized Malachi had been pulled underwater, much as she was being pulled downward right now. Something in him had changed after that encounter. Zoe despaired that a similar fate was in store for her.
"It's pulling me down!" she panicked. She began to kick her legs wildly, hoping to free herself from its icy grip.
"No! Stop!" Mayumi shouted down at her. "You're … slipping!"
Indeed, bit by bit her frantic kicking was causing her to lose grip. Mayumi was having to lean further and further over the rail to keep her grip. The icy sensation was working its way up Zoe's thighs. All she could do was thrash her legs even more frantically in response. Zoe was in a complete panic as she cried out in horror. There was no hope for her.
"I can't… I'm going … to fall over too!" Mayumi began to wrestle free of Zoe's grip.
"No, please... Please! No!" Zoe heard herself plead, her fingers desperately stretching back out to Mayumi.
"I'm... so sorry," Mayumi apologized as she let go entirely.
Zoe's other hand, without Mayumi's support, slipped right off the rail in a fraction of a second. She frantically reached out to whatever she could grab but her flailing arms caught nothing. She fell for what seemed a great distance and eventually crashed harshly into the water flat on her back, seemingly landing on unforgiving pavement. A coarse pain shot through her entire body and split-second later, the water immediately gave away and swallowed her up in a cold darkness. The murmuring sound of water dulled Zoe's senses and disoriented her completely as her panic reached its zenith. Unseen hands of living shadows now grasped at her, the cold hands pulling ever at her arms and legs while her underwater screams did nothing but fill her lungs with water. She was out of breath and desperately needed oxygen. She gasped for air. It was stupid, she knew, but it was entirely instinctual. Mouthfuls of water rushed down her throat, one painful, frightful swallow after another. Maybe I can just drown myself... Maybe that's for the best... Given Malachi's sudden change in character, it seemed these faceless shadows would have another fate for her in mind. Perhaps drowning before that could happen would not be such a bad thing… She struggled some more, seeing the dim light of the surface slowly disappear. Darkness swarmed her from all sides. Everything went completely cold and black.
Mayumi watched from the deck as Zoe completely vanished beneath the surface of the water. The shadow that had reached up to her and had pulled on her, had fallen into the water with her. A flurry of white bubbles floated upward as her companion thrashed about under the surface of the dark water.
Mayumi cursed herself for being so weak. There was nothing more she could have done to bring her back on deck. She was simply not strong enough. She felt awful and inadequate, unable to prevent Zoe, however rude she had been earlier, from being taken. At that moment, she felt entirely helpless as fewer and fewer bubbles reached the surface. Whatever was happening below water, the only thing that was certain was that Zoe was losing. As the last of the bubbles reached the surface, she knew the struggle was over. The heroic chef and curious engineer had also disappeared below the surface of the water. They were nowhere to be seen either. They, too, had vanished underwater. But where had the captain gone?
Mayumi stood up, realizing only now how painfully deep the rail had dug into her abdomen as she had tried to save Zoe. She rubbed the area, now incredibly sore and tender. Only Maxfield and herself remained onboard the yacht and they would need to evacuate immediately, whether the ship was indeed sinking or not. It was not safe. Yet, the water would be no safe haven for them either. The fearful mother turned to find Maxfield, hoping he had put out the SOS that would lead to a miraculous turn of events. Across the foggy deck, she saw him, confronted by another shadow, which blocked his path to the bridge. This one had legs and stood upright, just as tall as Maxfield. From it, too, emanated the disconcerting noise that befouled the air. Maxfield swung at the shadow with the blunt back end of the large flashlight, the only makeshift weapon at hand, keeping it at bay.
"Be careful, Max!" Mayumi cried out to him. The two were at a standoff. Like the first shadow which crawled vertically along the hull, it moved slowly. Whatever it was, though, it was powerful; Mayumi had felt how strongly the one on the side of the ship had pulled on Zoe. The shadow crept closer and Maxfield swung again, connecting with it but seemingly having no noticeable impact on the being. The black figure charged into Maxfield, tackling him to the ground, where it pressed into him, disappearing bit by bit as it forced itself into Maxfield's chest. He resisted at first, attempting to pull it out from within himself by whichever part of it he could grab, but evidently, the pain caused by the penetration numbed his ability to fight back. Within moments it had fully disappeared into Maxfield, who remained motionless on the deck, sprawled on his back. Her first reaction was to take a step toward him, but immediately thought better of it. She thought of the captain.
No, I shouldn't.
As she contemplated her next action, from the port bow, the outstretched arm of another shadow slammed onto the deck. At first, Mayumi was paralyzed by horror, as the black mass' upper body followed onto the deck. It moved in a lurching manner, as though starved and looking for its next meal. It set itself upright, pushing off against the ground with its long arms. Its slender legs slowly grew out from under it, until it resembled a misshapen, full-grown adult. The black shadow eerily stood out against the grey fog. Mayumi could not discern any facial features on it, but from its movement, figured it had caught onto her presence. A split-second later, she was running. Her body had reacted without any consultation from her consciousness. She was simply running frantically and out of sheer fear that made her legs weak, feeling as though they would snap in half at any moment.
She raced to Maxfield's cabin, slamming the door behind her and locking the door. Her legs had taken her as far as they could and she collapsed on the floor - the adrenaline that had gotten her to this room worn off entirely. Only fear remained. Her chest heaved heavily and her hands quivered uncontrollably. She was the last available victim and those shadows - there could be hundreds for all she knew - were coming for her, now that everyone else on board had been incapacitated.
Mayumi's thoughts shifted to her daughter, whom she knew would be expecting her home tonight. She did not want to worry her by not being home on time - much less for her to receive the news that her mother had gone missing at sea. Even for a sixteen-year-old, her daughter could be surprisingly sensitive.
Her only thought at this moment was to get a word to her daughter. She forced herself up off the floor and scrambled to the table. As best she could, she reached into her black Marc Jacobs purse, itself a gift from Maxfield, to take out her phone. Her unsteady hands caused her to fumble several times and drop the purse. In frustration, Mayumi turned over the bag, littering its contents on the floor of the dimly lit room. She fell onto her knees and picked up her phone with trembling hands.
"Dammit!" she cursed the lack of reception. She would not be able to make the call to her daughter but perhaps she could send a text message. If the boat ever got close to the mainland, it would send automatically. She first tried to use voice-to-text, but it would not work without a connection to the internet. Her only alternative would be to type out a message.
The keys on the onscreen keyboard were incredibly difficult to press correctly. Her nerves were frayed. She found herself retyping the same words over and over in frustration. As she was nearing the end of her message, that was when the noise of the shadows suddenly appeared. That buzz. That ominous, paralyzing hum. The harbinger of something worse to come. She dropped the phone, her hands shaking even worse than before. She could not type like this.
Mayumi struggled to move whatever furniture she could behind the door to block their entry. However, everything was fixed onto either the floor or the ceiling. Desperate, she charged at the door with the only chair in the room, jamming it under the door handle. She picked up her phone from amidst the mascara and lipstick tubes on the floor and stood with her back against the wall opposite the door, knowing there was nothing else she could do.
She was trapped.
Cornered.
It was, after all, a boat. The door rumbled as whatever was on the other side tried to make its way into the room. She eyed the chair nervously, knowing that it was her last recourse. No other barrier would stand between her and ... it. How long would she have before it penetrated into the room?
Mayumi tried to steady her trembling hands to finish composing the message to her daughter. The lights flickered for a moment, catching her by surprise.
"No, no, no..." she pleaded. "Please, oh god, no." The lights dulled for a second, then brightened again as though her prayer was answered. That last wither of hope was snuffed out like a blown candle as the lights went out without any warning, leaving the room completely dark, save for the little bit of pale moonlight shining in through the rectangular porthole. It was barely enough light for Mayumi to see her own shadow. She was compelled to turn on the phone's flashlight feature, shining it on the room, but the overturned, partially lit items formed ghastly, abnormal shapes that appeared to reach out to her. She immediately turned it off. Whatever she was about to encounter, it would have to be in the darkness.
Mayumi tried to focus on sending a text message that would inform but not frighten her daughter. Character by character, her shaky fingers typed a short but reassuring message. Mayumi had nearly completed the message when the distinctive rolling of makeup made her aware she was no longer alone in the room. Something had kicked the makeup on its way to her. No, it's rolling because the boat is swaying... That's what boats do. No, the waters are calm... She wondered if this uncontrollable fear was what Zoe had felt as she plummeted into the water. Was she being punished for having suffered such a fate onto someone else?
Suddenly, a cold, firm grip placed itself on her wrist, causing her to drop her phone. Instinctively, she tried to reach down for it with her other hand, but that hand was caught too. Her phone had landed face up. In her phone's pale, upward glow, Mayumi could see the featureless face of the shadow, only centimeters away from her face. It had a human shape but no face to speak of. No eyes. No mouth. No ears. Its hands had no fingers. It was all black. Nothing but black.
It pinned Mayumi's arms to the wall and bore into her chest, head first, just as the other shadow had done to Maxfield. A tortuous, cold-burning sensation ripped across her sternum as the shadow violently ensconced itself into her being. It was an excruciating sensation that took her nervous system to its very limits. Death seemed certain and she looked forward to it. She wanted it. This was entirely too much to bear. Before long, the shadow's entirety had disappeared into her, its arms entering into her last. When Mayumi was freed from its forceful grasp, it was not the relief she had anticipated, for she now realized it had been the only thing sustaining her limp frame. A great lethargy fell over her and her legs buckled. She was certain she would die from the pain still coursing through her before her knees even touched the floor.
To her surprise, she did not die. But the coldness she felt now extended to every part of her being. Mayumi had collapsed onto her stomach, too incapacitated to even move her limbs and reach out to grab the phone in front of her. Her message, fully composed, only needing to be sent. It stared up at her, mockingly. She had no energy to move her arm and press the button. She struggled to keep her eyelids open, which now seemed to bear the weight of the world on them. The unsent text was the only thing she could see until the phone's backlight eventually went out, leaving darkness to swallow the entire room as clouds moved in to cover the moon. As she faded out of consciousness, the image of her written words became etched into her mind, as clear as a fluorescent display burnt into her retinas.
Naru, something's happened. I won't be coming home. Be good. I love you.
AN - Loved it? Hated it? Doesn't matter! Leave me a comment! :) It may take me some time, but I do respond to reviews, comments and PMs.