Kraken by Rookie Burwick (novel books to read TXT) 📕

Jasper tried his best to scoot into a much better position, but it was tough. The hard floor was beginning to send pain shooting up his tailbone, and it was very uncomfortable. He scooted over a few inches, and then positioned on his side, and lay there. Now, he was comfortable. Now he could think.

He shut his eyes, and tried to remember the map of the ship he had spent so much time staring at near the beginning of the voyage. He thought hard, trying to vision the map . . . and where it was located. He sighed with frustration as, in his mind, he searched high and low for the one memory or image of that blasted map. It was somewhere on the next floor down . . . attached to the wall next to the stairs. He opened his eyes and slightly smiled. He knew where the map was, he just had to get to it, and follow it out to the main deck. Maybe from there, he could escape.

His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the same dreadful sound of metal creaking. The sound echoed though the walls, and elapsed into the room though the door was bolted shut. He sat up, and looked out the small window to his right. Time was now ticking, and every second he wasted hoping and praying he would stay alive counted. He leaned back and thought through his plan one last time. He would carefully walk down get down to the next floor below him, and read the map. He would memorize it, and follow it through twist and turns until he finally reached the deck. He didn't know how long it would take, but he knew that it couldn't take long. He needed to escape fast before the ship fully sank into the water. But he needed to wait until the ship wasn't moving.

If it was moving when he began his escape, his weight would add to the pressure, and cause the ship to sink even faster. So, he pulled his knees up to his chest, tried to make himself as light-weight as possible, and then waited.

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The sound continued to echo off the walls endlessly as Jasper listened. He wondered when it would stop, or even slow, but he had no answer. He was hoping it would end within the next two minutes, but he knew that was asking for a lot. It was asking for a bit too much. He sat as still and stout as he possibly could, his muscles slowly beginning to cramp, with pain shooting in all directions.

He winced as the loud creaking sound echoed long and hard into the room and right into his ears. The sound slowly died off, but too slow. It was just so loud and shriek-like, he just couldn't bare it. Every time he heard it, a chill would run up his spine. It sounded again, shorter this time, but still nerve-racking. He squeezed his knees tightly to his chest as goose bumps slowly rose on his wet legs. In small places around the room, on the hard floor sat puddles of fresh sea water, that had splashed in through his open window during the storm. It littered the floor here and there, and he had been in it. His clothes had soaked it up, and, when he became conscious, he was soaked, and he was just now really beginning to feel it.

He shivered again, partly out of fear, and partly out of the dampness on him and all around him. He glanced from the window to the celling to the door, and everywhere he glanced, he saw a darkening glow. The sun was setting. Another day was gone. He looked over at the window and saw the now thin ray of sunlight that just barley reached through it. He turned away from it, and rolled back onto his side, and began waiting. He wished the sunlight would stay just a little longer, mainly because he feared the dropping temperature would assist in the ship's sinking. The light stayed for another twenty minutes before finally really starting to disappear. Jasper, though, was grateful for the twenty minutes that it stayed, and took advantage of it. He positioned himself to where he could see clearly out the window, and watch the sun setting lower and lower, behind the sea that stretched out far beyond the ship.

He sighed as it finally disappeared, and the stars started to show in the night sky. He stared up at them for a moment, and then sank back down into his original position. He leaned back, and continued to watch as the last of the sunlight faded away. After it did, he looked back to the wall that was just across from him. It was the darkest he had ever seen it, mainly because he had been long asleep the before it had gotten dark the previous night. He stared into the darkening abyss, his mind filled with visions of him escaping this terrible place, and being rescued by some unknown ship.

He shut his eyes, and relaxed his muscles. They were quite sore along with his wounds and headache. The tension he felt building up in his stomach made it hard to keep his eyes shut, but he fought it. He tried his best to keep them shut. But they kept reeling back open, only to see more darkness. The room was now pitch black, and he could no longer see any more detail of anything. The only thing left to do was to try and get some sleep. He shut his eyes again, and kept them closed. He began thinking of things to try and fall asleep. He thought of arriving back home to the grey yet inviting dock that soon lead into the small town of Hightide. His mind tried to en-vision him hugging Lora tightly in his arms, and her smile gleaming back at him.

Within moments of these thoughts beginning, he was asleep.

He dreamt of being safe again, and happy. He dreamed about seeing his family again, and his wife, and his old pals. He dreamed about escaping the terrible darkness of the prison he sat shivering in. He dreamed of fishing, and catching enough to make feed him and Lora for months. He dreamed about everything positive and warming to him. His incisive dreaming lasted most of the night, keeping him in a deep snooze. He never squirmed or changed positions; he just sat exactly as he was when he was awake, hoping and dreaming in the quiet, lonely darkness.

But then, his eyes flew open. He leaned forward and peered sheepishly into the darkness beyond him, and listened. All he heard was the soft dripping of the water drops from the ceiling, and the occasional moan of the ship's rusty and bent sides. But that was all he heard. Nothing more. Nothing less. He sighed with slight relief, and leaned back against the wall. He shut his eyes again, hoping to get back to sleep. But he just couldn't. He tried the same technique that had worked before, but it wasn't working this time. Every few seconds, his eyes opened back up, and stared blankly here and there.

Now, he moved around. He squirmed over onto his opposite side, and shut his eyes again. He began en-visioning it all again, filling his thoughts and mind with all that he could to get him dreaming again. But it wasn't working. He just couldn't get back to sleep. He opened his eyes, and sat up straight, and watched the window, waiting as patiently as possible for the sunrise to start. But then, an eerie, damp feeling washed over him. He began to lightly tremble, as if cold or cooling down. He twitched a few times, then scooted uncomfortably around until he found a position he liked. But there was another problem. His stomach pains. His stomach rumbled loudly now, it's sound echoing off the walls like all the other sounds he'd heard that day.

The water dropped in a slow yet stand able pace, and kept up a good rhythm, and was almost calming. But it was also irritating. Jasper watched it drip, or at least he watched the area where it sounded like it was coming from, and slumped his shoulders. He shut his eyes one last time, and listened close to the drip. He listened close to it, followed its pattern. But then, at that moment, the first rays of sunlight slowly peered inside.

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The sunlight pierced through the window, and streamed into Jasper's eyes. It blinded him for only a few seconds after he had jerked away, but it was still too much at once for him to stand. He lay on his side with his back to the window, waiting for the blinding rays of its light to pass on up higher into the sky. The loud creaking sounds had started up again recently, and had been echoing loudly through the walls and all through the dark ship. The water level was still just a smidgen above the bottom frame of the window seal but was slowly rising every few minutes.

His stomach was hurting even worse now and pain shot through every muscle in his body . . . or so it felt. His bones felt like they'd been crunched, his nerves were the most sore they had ever been in years, and his head throbbed rapidly through his skull. His whole body felt broken and run down, and also very tired, and sore. He rolled back onto his side, and faced the window. The bright sunlight had rose above his vision line, and filled the cold room with warming light that made a fresh glowing effect on every inch of metal wall that surrounded him. His mouth was beyond dry now and he tried to wet it with his saliva, but it didn't work the best.

He sat up, and stretched out his arms, reaching higher and higher as the great feeling of stretching the muscles kicked in. He let his arms fall back down to his sides, and then glared for a moment at the wall in front of him. His mind scanned through his plan one last time, re-assuring everything and looking through the cautions. As he sat there, he tried his best to remember everything he'd seen in the ship, all the twists and turns and long hallways that were sided with doors leading to various rooms and compartments. It all sounded so complicated, but he had to do it, or he would end up buried thousands of miles under the surface. Without hesitating any further or stalling any longer, he heaved himself onto his feet.

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Jasper made his way slowly down the hallway. His knees shook with every step, and his arms weakly gripped the walls on his sides. He was amazed at how much weaker he was than his thoughts had lead him to believe, and he occasionally stumbled when he took a step. But it wasn't his weakness or pains that worried him.

It was the loud creaking noise that thundered all around the ship, indicating that it was sinking, and fast. He moved as quickly and as swiftly as his shaky legs would allow, keeping his eyes ahead of him. He didn't smell anything odd or unusual, nor did he see anything odd. But he knew, guessing from the way the ship had hit those rocks, there had to be a dead or dying body somewhere. It was only the previous day that he had smelled something rotten nearby, and that was clear back in his room. He had made it down two halls and was heading for the staircase that lead to the floor below,