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A Dark Supper – Part 03

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Translator: Kell

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The lady in the dress began pacing back and forth, deep in thought. She seemed to have a habit of walking exactly five steps, turning, and then taking another five steps and turning again. Victorique watched her with great interest.

Of the twelve people locked in the room, the eight older men seemed to know each other. They had great complexion and neat mustaches, and wore expensive suits and shiny leather shoes. They hadn’t seen each other in a long time. They were whispering to each other about the situation. Each of them was either a high-ranking government official from Sauville, a manager of a major textile company, or a senior official in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

As was their habit, they bragged about their positions and the schools their children attended even at a time like this. But when the conversation ended, they looked at each other anxiously and started whispering.

“So about this ship…”

“Yeah. It’s just like the box back then. I didn’t even notice it when I boarded.”

“No way…”

Ned kept stealing glances at them, wondering what they were talking about.

Kazuya was silent, pondering matters over.

A ship… warm food… cards…

For some reason, those words put him on edge. Something was clawing at his mind, but he couldn’t remember what. Feeling suffocated, he shook his head.

Noticing his state, Victorique asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Well…” Kazuya looked at her. “Oh, right. The ship’s name sounds familiar. I think it’s Queen Berry. And…” He frowned, feeling more and more anxious as he continued.

The men in the lounge were all staring at Kazuya, their expressionless faces as pale as wax dolls. Kazuya raised his head and looked at them.

Why are they all looking at me like that? He grew more and more uneasy. Oh, right… there was something about a vase…

He noticed a vase of flowers sitting on an antique shelf next to him. He had a feeling that it was a key item. It was at the tip of his tongue now.

Kazuya casually reached for the vase. The men swallowed.

Abruptly, the man from earlier stood up and shouted in a panic-striken voice, “Don’t touch that vase!”

Whoosh!

Something cut through the air. An arrow from a bow gun flew over Kazuya’s head and pierced the wall.

The young lady put her hands over her mouth and shrieked, backing away. Ned Baxter was also whimpering. Even Victorique was staring at Kazuya, her emerald-green eyes wide with shock.

A second later, the men screamed.

“I knew it!”

“This ship…!”

They got up quickly and bolted to the door, pushing and shoving each other. Some fell to the floor, groaning.

Victorique and Ned grabbed Kazuya, who was petrified from shock, and shook him.

“Are you all right, kid?!”

“Hey, how’s it feel to almost die?!”

Kazuya’s lips were quivering.

I remember.

A story about a ship, where someone touched a vase and an arrow came flying from somewhere.

Who told him, and what it was about.

Avril.

They were sitting behind the school building of St. Marguerite Academy, when she told him the story jokingly.

Yes. The ship…

“…And when the rescue team arrived on the cruise ship, there was still warm food on the dinner plates, the fireplace was blazing, and playing cards were laid out on the table. But get this! There was no one there.”

“The passengers, the crew, they were all gone.”

“…not a single soul around.”

“When the rescue team was examining the ship, one guy casually touched a vase, and an arrow came flying from somewhere and almost killed him.”

“With a huge splash and an ominous groan, it sank lower and lower into the dark depths!”

“That ship that was supposed to have sunk ten years ago has been reappearing ever since.”

“On stormy nights, the ship suddenly appears from beyond the mists, with the missing people still onboard. They lure the living into the ship and offer them as sacrifice…”

Kazuya remembered.

A table that looked like it had people on it just moments before.

Warm food.

Scattered cards.

Touching a vase triggered a trap.

And the name on the ship.

The luxury liner’s hull bore the same name as the one in Avril’s story—the Queen Berry.

“What’s the matter, Kujou?”

“V-V-Victorique. Listen close, okay? This ship we’re on… Uhm… don’t panic.”

“What is it?”

“A-And promise you won’t laugh. I’m not making this up.”

“Very well.”

“It’s a ghost ship!”

“…” Victorique opened her mouth, then with a serious look, let out a dry laugh.

Kazuya sank to the floor.

Looking down at him, Victorique said, “Hilarious.”

“I can explain. I swear it makes sense.”

Kazuya pulled himself together and told her about Avril’s story. The fashionable man, pushed away from the group of older men, listened closely. His face gradually contorted in fear.

“A ghost ship?” Victorique said, wearing a look of disbelief. “Kujou, are you actually serious?”

“Uh, yeah… I just thought, you know, it matched the story.”

“This ship? I thought you were joking, so I did you a favor and laughed. You’re one odd fellow.” She went to the bar counter and came back with a bottle of wine and a glass of reddish-purple liquid. “Take a good look at this drink.”

“Why?”

“The wine has a bright color, yet the label indicates it’s old.”

“…I’m not sure I follow.”

Victorique clammed up, annoyed.

Suddenly, the lights in the room went out.

The dazzling lights died, and darkness enveloped the lounge. The men at the door started screaming. Screams of both anger and fear. The darkness and the men’s panic-stricken voice struck fear into Kazuya. His knees started shaking. He stretched out his arms to protect Victorique.

He couldn’t find her. Bending down, he fumbled around while calling her name in a low voice. He grew more and more restless. He was worried about Victorique too.

But the blackout lasted only for a moment. Abruptly, the lights came on, illuminating the room brightly.

Standing in the corner, Victorique looked perplexed. “What were you doing?” she asked.

Kazuya quickly pulled his outstretched hands.

A deathly silence had fallen on the lounge. As if woken up from a dream, the men kept their mouths shut and turned their heads in shame. No one said a word. Perhaps it was the relief, or maybe they hadn’t yet recovered from the shock.

Ned’s shriek broke the silence.

Startled, everybody turned to him.

The actor was staring at the wall behind the bar. The woman in the red dress was standing nearby, leaning against the counter. She was staring at Ned, taken aback.

Ned raised one hand and pointed at the wall with the exaggerated and smooth movement of a stage actor. The woman slowly turned to look in the direction he was pointing at.

She gulped.

And then let out a shrill cry.

When the others noticed it a second later, they screamed too.

There was something on the wall that wasn’t there moments ago. Huge letters that looked like they were written in blood.

A message.

It said…

It’s been ten years since then.

How time flies.

Now it’s your turn.

The box has been prepared.

Now…

Run, hares, run!

The dandy screamed out loud.

Horrified, the portly man beside him shouted as well.

“That invitation…!”

“The Miniature Box Garden Evening…”

“The main dish is hare…!”

“We’re not here to watch the Running of the Hares. We are the hares!”

The eight men had varied reactions. Some sank to the floor, a few clutched their heads, while others looked furious.

Shocked, Kazuya and the others eyed them, wondering what their puzzling remarks meant.

“It’s ghosts! The kids have returned to sacrifice us!”

“These words written in blood is solid proof!”

The portly man rose to his feet and sprinted toward the door. Grabbing the doorknob, he pulled as hard as he could.

The door, which had been locked earlier, opened easily this time.

The man took a step forward.

Something zipped from the hallway. Something black. It looked like a black line drawn with a thick paintbrush to Kazuya.

The line hit the man right between the eyes, piercing deeper, and stopped with its tip slightly sticking out the back of his head. The black line had turned reddish-black at the tip, as if smeared by a red marker.

It wasn’t just a line.

It was an arrow from a bow gun that came from the hallway.

Everybody gaped at the scene. No one moved.

The arrow easily pierced the man’s head, as if it was made from some soft material. The arrowhead was sticking out the back of his head, covered in blood and brain matter.

After a moment of standing still…

Bam!

…the man fell on his back.

There was a moment of silence, then the woman screamed. “I-I tried to open that door, but it wouldn’t budge!” she said. “It’s true. Please believe me. But if it opened…”

Victorique watched the woman with narrow eyes as her face contorted in fear.

The remaining seven men didn’t listen to a word she just said. They stood still for a moment, and then, out of nowhere, dashed into the hallway.

“The trap’s been triggered. This door is safe now!”

“The deck! Head to the deck!”

“Run! The ship will kill us all!”

Stepping over the dead body, they scrambled across the hallway and up the stairs to the deck.

Victorique and the others looked at each other.

Ned’s face was filled with shock and suspicion. “Let’s follow them… okay?”

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