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A Dark Supper – Part 04

Translator: Kell

Kazuya, Victorique, Ned, and the lady cautiously moved to the hallway.

Lamps flickered in the luxurious corridor. Their feet sank into the soft, comfortable red carpet with every step. Eventually, they found the stairs and climbed up. Right as he was about to step out into the deck, Ned, who was walking in front, muttered with a sigh, “It’s raining. There’s a storm.”

The deck was narrower at the stern. Heavy rain beat down on the cruise ship, surrounded by the dark sea and the roaring night sky. The rain had made the deck slippery; a misstep could make one slip and fall.

The sky was dark and heavy, with no stars in sight.

Black waves tossed on the surface of the sea. The eerie darkness seemed to suck one in just by looking at it. Waves crashed loudly.

The woman frowned. “It looks really bad.”

Ned turned around. “I guess we can’t use the lifeboats.”

“Of course not. Using a boat in this weather is suicide. It’ll sink in no time.”

Hearing her voice, the men turned around. “Then what do we do?!”

“Why are you asking me?”

“I know. Let’s go to the wheelhouse. We can steer this ship back to land!”

The men clambered away in a hurry. They slipped on the wet deck, some spraining their legs, yelling in anger.

They found the wheelhouse. It was locked, so Ned tackled the wooden door down. He jumped inside, but came out with a grimace on his face.

“It’s useless…”

“Why?!” a man shouted.

“The rudder’s broken. There’s no steering this ship.”

“Lies!”

Several men jumped into the wheelhouse, pushing Ned aside. The actor staggered and almost fell.

“He’s right,” one muttered in frustration as he stepped back out. “It’s really broken.”

“…That’s what I said,” Ned muttered.

The men didn’t answer.

The Queen Berry was drifting aimlessly through the stormy sea. With no sign of the navigation officer, the ship simply floated on the sea without knowing where to go.

Assuming that Ned was the most knowledgeable about ships, the men started hounding on him.

Ned didn’t know how to deal with them. “Don’t ask me. I don’t know anything… Oh, right. Maybe we can use the radio to call for help. A rescue team might come.”

“Get on with it, then! Stop dawdling around!”

Ned was pissed, but he quickly regained his composure and pointed to the other side of the deck—to the bow.

“The radio room is in the bow. Let’s head there.”

“Hurry up!”

Ned started running. Rain pelted down on their skin so hard it hurt. The deck seemed to be twenty meters wide, but wrapped in darkness, they could not see the bow.

Ned stopped and shook his head.

“What’s wrong?” one asked.

“We can’t get there…”

“There’s a decorative funnel. It’s too big, strange for a ship of this design. Anyway, we can’t get to the other side.”

A huge, black funnel loomed in front of them, too hard to see as it blended in with the darkness. The reason they couldn’t see the bow at all was not because it was dark, but because the funnel was blocking their view. It was the same funnel that Kazuya saw when he boarded the ship.

A decorative funnel, often used on luxury liners that focused on design.

But it seemed too large for the ship, separating the front half of the ship from the back half. Its height was low for a funnel.

Kazuya and Ned checked both ends, but there was no way through. The bow side and the stern side were completely separated by this weird funnel.

The young woman looked back at the men. Her raven hair, and dress, wet from the heavy rain, stuck to her white skin.

“There’s no way through the deck,” she said. “We have to go back inside and head to the bow from there.”

“No!” one shouted, trembling. “If we go back inside, we’ll be turned to hares! No way!”

“What’s this hare you keep talking about?!” the woman shouted back.

Ned stood beside her. “Yeah. You’ve been spouting nonsense for a while now. Those words written in blood. You know what they mean, don’t you? Tell us! You owe us that much! Hey, wait!”

The dandy shouted and pointed at the lifeboat. The men worked together and began lowering it. But the sea was rough, swaying wildly from the waves and heavy rain.

Ned, the woman, and Kazuya tried their best to stop them.

“If you go out in this weather, you’re dead!”

“Shut up!”

One after another, the men escaped into the boat, ignoring Ned’s attempt to persuade them.

Right before the dandy boarded the boat, he looked back with an uneasy frown.

“It’s not safe!” the woman said. “Just stay!”

His bloodshot eyes quievered restlessly. After several seconds of silence, he said, “Fine.”

He glanced at the rough sea, the boat, and the faces of the remaining youngsters.

The other men paid no attention to the dandy; they didn’t look back either. The dandy watched the men with eyes full of doubt and irritation.

Despite the woman’s insistence, the lifeboat descended to the sea.

The boat, carrying six men, fell.

Kazuya and the others leaned over the railing and watched.

The boat rocked in the waves for just a moment. Then a huge wave swept it away, rocking it sideways and capsizing it.

Shouting, Kazuya watched helplessly as the men disappeared into the ocean floor.

The men were dragged to the bottom of the sea before they even had time to scream. White foam bubbled between the waves and drifted away. The boat vanished.

It happened in the span of only a few seconds.

Heavy rain beat down on the people who remained on deck.

Kazuya looked at the faces of Ned and the woman standing beside him.

Ned’s face was pale. Speechless, he was shaking, his lips blue.

And the woman…

She wore a curious, satisfied smile as she looked down at the disappearing boat. Her eyes were horrifyingly cold.

Her lips moved as she muttered something. She wasn’t talking to anyone in particular, but Kazuya’s ears caught her words.

“I warned you,” she said.

Suddenly, she noticed Kazuya looking at her. She faced him this time, and said in an indiffirent tone, “Grownups are always stupid. They’re so full of themselves, and they do things that don’t make sense.”

Shrugging, she walked back to the stairs to the cabin.

“Come on… You can’t say that! It’s insensitive.”

Kazuya’s voice didn’t reach her.

He watched her go with anger and shock.

The remaining five people headed back to the lounge. Trudging down the corridor, they entered the room through the open door, with the woman going in first.

Her eyes opened wide as soon as she stepped inside. Her hands slowly moved to her mouth, and she let out a yelp.

Kazuya, who was next to enter, asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Ah… ah…” She closed her eyes.

Then screamed.

Ned rushed to the room. “What?! What happened?!”

The woman started crying. Shaking, she raised her slender arms and pointed inside.

“This room…” she mumbled.

“What about the room?”

“No!”

Kazuya peered into the room himself, and immediately became speechless.

The lounge had completely changed.

In just several minutes, the walls, ceiling, and floor had become soggy. The bar counter, tables, and liquor bottles were still intact, but like a sunken ship that had been at the bottom of the ocean for a long time, the walls were rotten and soaked, and dirty water was dripping down from the ceiling.

A dim lamp illuminated the wet lounge.

The woman began sobbing hysterically. Ned stood beside her, flustered. He tried to console her, but she cut her off.

“What the hell is going on?! Somebody do something!”

Ned shut his mouth and looked around. “How did this happen? The words are still there on the wall…”

The same bloody words danced on the wall, illuminated eerily by the pale lamp. Ned kicked a rotting table a little and it crumbled. The smell of seawater wafted from the wreckage. The floor was also soft and rotten, and with every step he took, he felt an unpleasant squishing sensation under his foot.

“…Hey.”

Ned turned around. He was standing in the middle of the lounge, staring at them with a stunned look on his face. Slowly, he pointed to the floor near the door.

He shot the others a pleading look. “Where’s the body of the old man that was shot by the bow gun?”

Abruptly the woman stopped crying. Astonished, Kazuya also looked around.

The body was gone. It was nowhere to be found in the waterlogged lounge. Even the blood and the brain matter had vanished cleanly.

“Don’t you find that suspicious?!” the woman cried. “He must have done it! He locked us up and pretended to be dead. He’s probably enjoying giving us a scare. Come out! Show yourself!”

She wandered around the lounge, peeking under the tables.

“Calm down,” Ned said. “He was dead. I checked. I’m sure about it.”

“Then I guess you’re in on it too!”

Ned scowled. “Enough already!”

They glared at each other.

“Stop arguing,” the dandy interjected. “It’s stupid.”

“Stupid?”

“Let’s take a seat. I’m tired…”

The five people looked at each other.

They sat down on chairs that were relatively dry.

Irritated and restless, Ned began tapping his foot. Every shake made a splashing sound. The young woman sat down, her face pale, and cradled her head in her hands. Her raven hair hung down to her knees. The dandy was incredibly quiet. He looked terrified, his lips dyed a purple color.

Only Victorique was sitting in her usual elegant and calm manner. A glance at her face made Kazuya feel relieved.

The five introduced themselves.

“I’m Maurice,” the dandy began. “A senior official in Sauville’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs.” He didn’t say anything else.

“I’m Julie Guile,” the woman said next. “I’m… unemployed. My father owns a coal mine.”

She appeared to be the daughter of a wealthy man. Maurice snorted.

“…What? I can live without working. What’s it to you?”

Ned Baxter, who seemed to be a hard worker, frowned a little.

When Kazuya and Victorique introduced themselves, Maurice seemed to recognize Victorique’s last name and suddenly changed his attitude. He remained arrogant to the other three.

Exhausted, they were slumped down on their seats, staring at each other’s faces.

The woman—Julie Guile—whispered, “What is going on here? Where are we? Why is this happening?” She seemed to have calmed down a little.

“Seriously. I have no idea what’s going on,” Ned said.

“I don’t know either,” Kazuya added.

Maurice was quiet, his gaze downward. Eventually they turned their attention to the silent man, and Victorique, who was observing him closely.

A quiet tension filled the room.

And when it reached its highest point, Victorique spoke.

“…Maurice,” she called in a clear, but raspy voice.

The man gave a start. Everyone had their eyes on them.

Maurice stiffened like a frog under the stare of a snake as he waited for Victorique’s next words.

“You warned my friend earlier when he tried to touch that vase.”

“I-I did…”

“How did you know about the mechanism?”

Maurice bit his lip.

Julie and Ned gasped.

Silence descended over the waterlogged, shadowy lounge.

Drip. Drip.

The obnoxious sound of water dripping echoed in the room. Maurice didn’t answer.

“All but the four of us seemed to know about it. The eight older men kept uttering words incomprehensible to us. The only one who survived was you, Maurice. Shouldn’t you offer the young ones an explanation?”

Maurice continued to bite his lips hard.

Drip. Drip.

It was silent, save for the sound of water.

Finally, Maurice lifted his head slowly in resignation. “Because it’s the same,” he mumbled.

“The same as what?”

“What happened ten years ago. That’s how I knew.” His face was as pale as a dead man’s. Opening his purpled lips, he added, “We’re onboard the Queen Berry, a ship that sank in the Mediterranean Sea ten years ago. It’s happening again. That’s how I knew.”