Soap Scum and Brine (Part 3)

The wind stayed strong and filled their sails, and the sea was smooth like glass and the head of the ship cut through it smoothly and silently, their speed building and then staying steady. The Captain made a note to offer tribute to every god of every faith next time he landed on dry land that wasn’t a colossal crying child.

The Captain was proud of his men and it was testament to his strong and stern leadership that not a single one of them looked behind them at the certain death crashing towards them, they simply focused all their effort and strength into making the trusty vessel cut through the water like it was nothing. Surely now, if never before, it was earning it’s namesake of The Swordfish.

If this was the end at least it was an exciting one. Even if there were any survivors The Captain doubted they would believe this incredible and impossible encounter. The creature’s hand continued it’s slow but sure progress, seemingly in no hurry whatsoever, as if it was certain it had them trapped. In actuality it had no idea they were even there and just wanted to slap the water to make a big splash. It loved it when the water splashed, oh how it made it giggle!

The crew were demonising the infant in the mind, but it really just was that, an infant. a unfathomably huge and ungodly monstrosity of one, but a baby nonetheless. If anything this made it more dangerous. Drool fell from its mouth like a massive tidal wave, coursing into the sea and pounding like the roar of a thunderstorm.

The Captain chanced a glance backwards and felt relief, it almost seemed like they were out of its reach. The shadow of the hand began to fall over the boat like a dark spectre and some of the men thought their bladders might let go.

But, surely… yes! The hand was going to miss, they were safe. As it was about to make contact with the surface of the water, it was about a ship’s length away. The crew cried out in unison with relief and joy, but The Captain stayed silent.

He had an instant to marvel at fingernails crusted with dirt that were the size of houses, when the hand slapped the water with an almighty thunderclap. The sheer force of the contact rattled his teeth and made his one good eye wobble like jelly in its socket. Just before all heck broke loose The Captain had the barest moment to think that perhaps the infant had never wanted to touch the boat, but rather to propel it flying through the air like a cannonball being fired.

The water surged with terrible might and the very ocean itself, as well as the air around them swelled up into what seemed like one giant fist, punching the back of the boat and sending it surging on a tidal wave the likes of which The Captain had never seen.

The back of The Swordfish (the fin?) was smashed to pieces as the sheer power and might of nature, given a little help by something very unnatural indeed, with the planks of solid wood snapping like twigs. A few of the crew screamed, though they weren’t heard over the terrible racket and roar as they were tossed overboard into the sea. The Captain’s cabin and its contents spilled into the surging sea, along with half of the crews bunks and any poor souls who happened to be below deck.

The boat titled forward as it rolled with the wave, a few more men sliding and scattering around the deck, and more unfortunate ones being tossed overboard. The man in the Crows Nest went tumbling over the edge of it at the moment of impact, and landed head first on the deck just behind The Captain, breaking his neck.

The awful crash of his body was nothing compared to the noise roaring around them like a horrible demon and The Captain didn’t even hear his ungraceful landing. Holding on for dear life at the front of the boat, one hand grasping the railings and one hook curved around them, he peered over the front of the wave into oblivion. He cried out,
“Hold fast men! It’ll take more than a little wave to defeat us!”

The Captain was delirious with fear and adrenaline, but he felt alive and strong. A few of the men on deck who had managed to hold onto something for dear life met his shouts with cries of “Aye aye Cap’n!” but most of them stayed silent with their eyes shut tight, holding on as best they could and praying for salvation.

The wave continued to carry them forward, and The Captain was filled with dread and the awful knowledge that every wave, even one as huge as this, eventually has to crash.