Young Writers Society

"Er. not really?" Taber said, resting his paws behind his neck and smiling awkwardly. "I know harpoons are kinda long and sharp, but more than spears? Also the sharp part is more jagged and stuff. But I don't really know what's going on? I kinda suck at using knives, I don't want to be a harpooner, and I really don't want to die?"

Queenie tilted her head, "I know what a harpoon is and how to use it, in some scenarios. What do you mean by 'the story'? Are we actually about to live through one of the most mind-numbingly boring pieces of literature ever written? Because if we are I'd rather go back to my regularly scheduled nightmares, thanks."

Cleona smiled, but it was hard, sarcastic and cold. "You only wish it was a boring piece of literature. This is much deeper. This is from the movie "Heart of the Sea" which is the story of how the book got written." She narrowed her eyes. "Owen Chase, first mate, leaves his pregnant wife to serve on this ship. Always at odds with the captain. The captain, who has no knowledge of whaling or how to be a captain, but holds the title because of his family's legacy. A 14 year old boy who has no family, idolizes Owen Chase, and shows courage in the end that no one else could. Captain, first mate, that boy, and a few crew members living on life boats for months, commit horrible things to stay alive."

The city was alive now, people crowding the docks to say goodbye. "I'm boarding." Was all Cleona said as she started walking.

"My apologies," Thytes said, beginning to walk after her. "Could you at least tell us what is so problematic about heading to the meeting hall? Why must we board?"

Taber ran after the lion. "Will we get to meet any of those people you were talking about?" he said. "And can we help make sure they don't have to do horrible things?"

Queenie rolled her eyes as she followed after, "How the hell did a weekend flick like that become big enough a fear for you to have multiple nightmares about it? I mean, one would guess that you were shown the film as an impressionable kid and got freaked, but you ought to have grown out of that by now. You implied you were good with knives, that's not really a popular hobby skill, so I assume you're either hella paranoid or you run into equally stabby people often enough to warrant learning how to fend them off. Am I getting warmer? I'm afraid I'm beginning to sound a bit like I imagine the inside of my sister's head to look like, and I'd rather not keep that up if I'm already near the mark."

Cleona couldn't help it. She laughed. "I retained my skill with knives from where I am originally from. I have a problem with whales that are able to wreck an entire fleet of ships, and kill. In this case, 1 particular whale." She turned to Thytes. "Yes, we can, if we make it that far. We have to board because we are part of the crew." She sighed. "This is the best part of my nightmare, I can tell you that much."

Queenie laughed, "You're afraid of whales? Really?" she absently tugged at the cuffs of her sleeves, "Well then, I suppose all we have to do to wake up from this less-pleasant-than-average dream is kill the thing? I can't really afford to stay asleep for too long, I've got a job to do in the morning."

Carter had maintained his position against the lamp post, silently listening to all that was being discussed within this group. In between draws off the cigarette, he pressed his palms further into his forehead with some hope he could wake up from this dream. The constant chatter of getting absolutely nowhere was just reminding him of home.

If he wanted someone to talk about nothing for hours and hours...
Well Carter would go home to Paul.

Carter tried not to judge any part of Cleona's story, even as it became quite clear the girl didn't have enough of a clue when it came to history. Maybe it was his own obsessions speaking that were so bothered by the particular details, but he held them back anyways.

He still didn't answer anyone in the group as they continued on about the whales and the ships and the weather. Carter could certainly pass himself off as a harpooner. Just as he could be a detective, a d*uche bag son of a senator, a drunk mafioso, or anything else that might be needed in New England to survive on the streets.

If this was a situation where people had to survive the nightmares of others, he couldn't wait until this group landed in the thoughts that haunted his own mind.

Cleona didn't reply. She was done talking. She walked up the plank to the ship. "Owen Chase, sir." She said respectfully, to a tall, muscular man with a ponytail.

"Hi!" Taber said, waving from behind Thytes's shoulder as the wolf and lion stopped behind Cleona. If this was supposed to be her nightmare, he wasn't entirely sure if this Owen person would talk back. In his nightmares, most of the people he ran into did, but he'd been told that wasn't the case with everyone. Still, this was a really weird nightmare, so it was worth a shot. "Good morning - it's nice to meet you!"

Owen Chase looked at them. "Fine morning to set sail. Go claim your hammocks and then gather on deck." Cleona nodded and led the way. She turned to them all. "I realize this does not seem like much of a nightmare, and it's hard for you all to understand it, seeing as how it isn't your nightmare. It will get worse, believe me. I've never died, but I've never been able to find a way out." She wanted to look away, to hide, but she didn't. She stood there, waiting.

Queenie glanced around, "Would you like to explain the general plot of what we're about to live through, or would you rather it be a surprise?"

"General plot. Collect 300 gallons of whale oil. Sail to the south equator, where there are millions of pods of sperm whales. One of them makes the best written, worst villain in history look kind. He follows the ship, and later the lifeboats, wrecking havoc and killing. Owen and the captain become obsessed with killing this whale. At the end, three people survive, after months in lifeboats, eating the ones that die to stay alive." Cleona couldn't help it, she shivered. "The moment the whale enters the scene, is when I am defeated. Where I can't win, conquer, whatever. I don't know."

Queenie sighed, her gaze shifting toward the heavens as though she were praying for something, "If I die in a dream," she said with a heavy sigh, "I'm going to make damn sure my little sis kills you as slowly as she's capable."

Big ships were easy to board.

All that The Creature needed was a suitable distraction - a rock thrown at an unsuspecting sailor, a sudden noise off in the distance, or a glimpse of a thing in the shadows that couldn't quite be explained without accepting that there was something terrifying lurking within the ship.

Small boats were challenging. There were no shadows to hide in, and no easy way to slip onboard without drawing attention.

But if The Creature had understood the synopsis given, it was the bigger boat that was the more important one - they would never appear in a place that would leave them crowded, especially when there were so many perfect targets nestled within the walls of the whaling vessel.

The life boats would be a snack compared to the feast available on board.

The Creature slipped into the ship - faltering a little at the door when the low-slung doorway resulted in an aching forehead - but still managed to remain undetected as the crew bustled about in the ship's depths.