I rush past everything, including that man Marcus, who is slumped against the wall, not far from my office. His hat, pulled low, shields his face, but I swear I see a tiny grin when he tilts his head on hearing me rush forward and a devilish glint in his dark blue eyes. That is the last I see of him in my hurry. Probably more of my imagination on this hellish drunken night, I am sure. 

Still, I can’t seem to get inside fast enough. 

I slam shut the door and slump against it, my body slowly sliding down it as adrenaline still courses in my blood. My throat burns, and with my lungs tight, my heart is hammering in my chest. 

WHAT THE FUCK!

The lock. I must get to the lock. I stretch my body and reach up, my fingers clumsy. But eventually, I am able to bolt it. I put my hand over my chest and squeeze. It hurts. I can’t get a full breath of air. 

FUCK!

I couldn’t have imagined that. No amount of rum will make you see what I saw and hear those screeches. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I need my gun. And some dry clothes. Being wet is weighing me down. I can’t seem to walk straight on my two feet. 

I scramble across the floor to the bureau next to my bed. My gun is supposed to be there, and I yank open the drawer, flinging my undergarments onto the floor. 

Where is it? Has someone stolen it? Who? One of my crew?

WHO? Who will dare to steal my gun?

Wait…wait!

I remember now. I used it as a paperweight on my desk the other day. It must be there even now, right? I glance all over the surface, taking in the map fluttering, not yet blown off, in the breeze from the ajar window. The curtains flutter too, creating shadows across the room. I crawl to my desk, patting the top before ripping the gun down into my hand. I check the chamber, double check it, to see if it is full. 

I refuse to be that idiot who does not have a loaded gun in the face of the possible threats looming around. Thankfully, all six chambers are filled, and I close it shut. 

Another gust of wind blows in, sending my map airborne and slapping it against the opposing wall by the door. I gasp and nearly jump out of my skin like some alley cat. 

Fuck. My heart can't take much more of this. 

That window needs to be closed now. I scramble to it, continuing to stay low to the floor. I slam it shut and latch it as well before scooting back until my rear hits the wall next to my bed. I need to remove these wet clothes so that I can move easily when danger closes in. With one hand, I remove my top, while holding firm the gun with the other. My eyes feel like they will bulge right out of my head as they dart from the window to the door, making sure my room is secure. I still can't get my breathing under control. My wet top lands on the floor with a heavy slap. 

A hundred thoughts rush to my brain all at the same time, bringing with them fear and apprehension. 

What if they attack my ship? Crawl onto it like in the stories that Rose spoke of? Those screeches too! There is more than one far-off in the distance.

I unbutton my pants and shove them down, kicking them away from me, leaving me nude. Then I crawl up to my bed, swinging my gun from left to right, window to door, and then back again. 

I lie down on my bed and pull the blanket over me as I think back to the thing I encountered in the waters while keeping my ears peeled for more screeches or weird sounds closing in on my ship. 

I can only hear the sailors partying and having a good time, clowning around and dancing to the raucous music. How had they not heard those screeches? Were they too intoxicated to hear them?

Fucking morons! They are going to get themselves killed fast if they are lucky. Being eaten alive is not the best way to die. I continue to hear them have a grand time. 

They have no way of protecting themselves, though. Should I warn them? They will probably laugh at me if I tell them what I heard or saw. It probably won’t do me much good. They will just say it’s all in my head. Hell, even I won't believe me if I hear this story. 

My hand holding the gun is trembling, and I wish I could steady it. 

It’s not like I will be a big help if danger decides to visit us tonight. Not with this gun, anyway. I can probably use the six bullets to defend myself. But what about my crew?

I am the captain. If I die, they die too. They’re bigger idiots than me. Most of them have no idea how to read, let alone navigate using a map. Luckily, I learned everything from my father, though I have no idea who taught him. He never shared. I never asked. The rest of the crew will perish if I am gone. 

That is a terrible thought, and I do not wish to ponder it again. 

I’m being selfish, aren’t I?

I should have warned them or screamed for help when I climbed aboard. Something. Anything. But I didn’t do it. Why not?

My crew will be eaten or something worse if the Sirens decide to attack now. There is not a single sober person left awake above deck. I pull the blanket tighter around me, drawing my knees up to my chest. Instead of alerting everyone, I ran into my cabin like a coward. I am fucking pathetic. 

Is this how a captain acts? Running to the bed and hiding under the blankets like some stupid snot-nosed little kid? 

I should be out there on the decks, sobering up my crew and sending signals to other ships that are miles ahead of us. Though what happens if I am just really drunk and hallucinating? Maybe I saw some things and mistook them to be Sirens in my head. 

My thoughts go round and round until my head feels heavy. Whichever way I look at it, I am sure I did see a creature. Even now when I close my lids, I can see the flash of the creature’s narrowed eyes. Gray and hollow-looking. 

I have never once seen eyes like that. Void of life, nevertheless, human. Or perhaps not. The pupils didn’t look right. They reminded me more of an eel if anything. Like those of the dead ones that used to wash ashore every now and then on our land. 

There is a sudden creak coming from the boat. Is this the boat settling or something else? I tense, putting my finger on the trigger.

What the hell is it? One of them?

As time passes, there are no more sounds. I am able to relax just a little. It must have really been the boat settling. I clench my chest again, another stabbing pain that makes breathing difficult. I feel cold too. I didn’t feel it at first, but now I do. I can't stop trembling. A delayed reaction or something else?

I shouldn’t have left the window open post-sunset. I am used to the summer heat during the day, but at night, the seawater carries its own chill in the breeze. As a result, my cabin is freezing, and I am also soaking wet, to add to it. The ends of my hair drip down my back and shoulders, cold wet droplets making my teeth chatter. 

In times like this, I could use a nice man to keep my bed warm. I would feel a lot safer in a man’s embrace, but I need to be tough. A captain does not need a lover. Not at all. And I definitely don’t need a man to keep me warm, either. A blanket or two can do that. I certainly don’t need anyone to sleep with or to keep me safe or to protect me. I learned my lesson the last time. 

A man would be the first one to throw me to the monsters, Sirens, or whatever they are to save his own fucking worthless ass. I lift my hand to reach for my necklace, patting my neck. But I soon realize it is not there. I hate this. I already feel lost without it, especially the weight of it hanging from my neck. I can't believe I have been stupid enough to play around with it and drop it in the sea, where it will be lost forever. 

I sigh deeply, reflecting on my actions. I shouldn’t be cowering like this or blaming myself for the loss of my locket. I have so much to do as a captain. But at the moment, my courage has left me. I am too shaken. I make a list of all the things I need to do. 

Inventory is one of the many things on the list. I should have been doing that now. But there are other things, more important things I should be doing right now, such as braving the upper deck alone. But fear keeps me hostage, and I move not a muscle. As time passes by, my eyelids feel heavy. My crew too begins to quiet down, perhaps falling asleep one by one in a drunken stupor. 

I want to rest too…but that thing, or others like it, might be lurking in the water, waiting for the right opportunity. 

My head too doesn’t feel right or like myself. The encounter today and the shock of seeing the creature have drained me completely. I feel so tired. But how can I sleep, knowing those things are lurking in the waters?

As the silence of the night reins in, I close my eyes, thinking of my father and how he would have been a far better captain than I ever will be in my lifetime. A true and brave man. He would have never done this. Never. Crow under the blankets and shiver. 

I feel like I am a mess, far worse than any man. 

I can barely control any of my men. That too can be blamed on me. I don’t act much like a captain most times. I feel the only thing I know is how to get drunk, set sail, course a chart, and complete inventory. Unfortunately, it is no secret the men have no respect for me, due to the older rumors. I can’t blame them for that. 

I know once I take inventory, the rationing of liquor will begin. Which means I won't have any to ease me off to sleep every night. I sigh, my hand getting tired of holding the gun in this position. My fingers start to tingle. What I miss right now are the days when I was just a defiant young girl, thinking I was being a rebel by wearing pants, hanging out with the sailors, messing around on my father’s boat, getting certain favors, and enjoying the attention of a handsome and strapping older man. I touch my lips with the back of the gun as I recall the sailor. Despite my lack of womanly appeal or being feminine, he treated me like a princess. Rather like a queen. He used to tuck flowers behind my ear, make cute flower rings, promise me the world and my own ring as soon as he saved up some money.

The sweet words he called me…beautiful and cute… The way we used to kiss on the beaches… Or how we made love here in this very bed…

Everything was like a dream. Until the day it shattered. When I found out he was already a husband and a father. I had never felt so betrayed as I did that day. The man was all I had left after the loss of my parents. My mother had been long gone from illness, and it seemed not shortly after my father joined her, dying of heartache. 

My once true love was a father of two children with a third on the way. His wife had been pregnant at the time. When I found out and confronted him, his eyes changed. He stood his ground and called me a whore, saying I had been the one who had always wanted to get into his pants. He accused me of seducing him, despite his telling me on many occasions that he was married. 

Many believed him. I didn’t do anything to defend myself. That was my nature. So, he outcasted me from everyone. I lost all my friends, and eventually, I came to be known as an easy woman and a homewrecker, as his life left him shortly after. And the people made sure that my life was a living hell. Wherever I went, men would call me a ‘whore.’ Even offered me naqks, sometimes flicking them at me for my services as they chuckled and sneered like boys. Even people who knew me from my father’s years of captaincy. 

Little did anyone know the sailor had been my first everything. And he was the one who came on to me, kissed me, all the while saying he was a free man. 

He knew I was innocent and vulnerable yet decided to deceive me with those words. It’s my fault. I should have decked him, stood up for myself, done something when he accused me of loose morals. But I didn’t. I did nothing. Stood there and took all the abuse. Just like I am doing now. 

Being here on this ship with men who knew my father, I know all of them whisper behind my back, calling me the same ugly word. The only reason they have not called me so to my face is out of respect. Not for me. But for my father. Knowing I am his daughter. 

I don’t get it. 

If I were a man, I would have been praised for getting into another woman’s pants despite being married. But as a woman, I am looked down upon. That is the way it has been and will always be. 

Maybe I should have been born a man. I would have probably become a better leader too. 

That sailor not only ruined my womanhood and destroyed every ounce of pride as a lady, but also ruined my position as captain. I know this for certain. He will not affect my life here as he did back home. 

I will work on being a better captain from now on. I must. Men are vile and evil creatures, all of them, so I don’t need their love.

My eyes drift shut, and deep sleep overcomes me, but my hold on the gun does not ease. Not even once.

During this time, I fail to hear a scream from a certain sailor above. A blood-curdling one as something is dragged violently across the deck.

The screams suddenly stop, and like me, no one else hears them, as all of us are sound asleep the very night of our first attack.