Rover of the Sands

Viola likes it when you whisper in her ear. She giggles and squirms as one does when being tickled. You hate to wake her, but…

“My darling,” you speak softly, right into her round, red little ear. “You know our friend Slugger, the one who’s always drinking? Well, today he told me the strangest little tale about ‘seeing something’ in the cantina. I think he’s usually ‘seeing something’ if you know what I mean. All the same, I wanted to know more and would you believe it? I saw it too! I saw an Apparition! My first one”

You see Viola’s breathing coming faster as her ribs rise and fall and you know for certain she is awake. Just in time for the good part, if only she could hear it!

“Oh it was horrible, Viola! A wicked old hag, just like in a fairytale but worse than you could imagine. She had long hair, but not beautiful like yours. It was like moldy hay and she was gray and old and horrible and her eyes, Viola, her eyes, they were made of fire! But no, more than that, they were full of hate. I could feel it down to my bones, the most evil sense of…”

Having succeeded in scaring yourself all over again, you reach your arm over to pull her in closer, but she suddenly thrashes and rounds on you, turning to face you with two eyes of roiling flame.

“Wh..what? Viola! What is this! Somebody help!” You try to jump from the bed, but before you can so much as blink, she is straddling you, holding you down with an unnatural strength. You squirm against her bare flesh, whose touch has suddenly become more scalding than the sand winds. You try to cry out but your voice is little more than a tremoring whistle as it escapes your mouth. What is she?

There is a knock at the door.

“Hello! Hello in there!”

You hesitate for a moment, feeling Viola’s body all around you. You look up at her and even in all those flames, you think you can still recognize the woman you love.

Your indecision hurts you because in the next moment, McGirk is kicking down your flimsy door, swearing about how he was supposed to have the evening off.

“What’s the matter then old Hogan?” he says through the hole he’s just cut through the door with his oaken axe. “Need a reminder what goes where?” She turns to him in a rabid fury, snarling and scratching at him. Finding his feet, he backs quickly out of the room, shrieking “Captain! CAPTAIN!” as he scrambles abovedecks.

Oh god, oh God! What can be done? Outside the emergency whistles are shrilling their call.

Viola pulls you roughly by the arm, not caring who sees you both as you ascend the rope ladder and step out into the abating stand storms, the redness of her eyes shining in the utter darkness of a New Times night. Chaos and confusion reign everywhere, your old crewmates taking up defensive positions in the rigging, holding gas lamps in one arm and retrofitted wooden muskets in the other, ready to shoot out their bullets of Moon Glass, yet none daring to enter the eerie circle of light created by Viola’s eyes.

Calmly, resolutely, she pulls you to the nearest railing looking out over the endless sands. You know you are cornered, though you follow her gaze out over the wastes. She lifts your hand to her mouth to kiss it tenderly, kneeling before you, a strange parody of courtly supplication as her eyes nearly burn holes into your own.

Captain McCann fearlessly approaches you.

“Hogan!”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Slugger O’Toole came to me just a few minutes ago saying he’d seen an Apparition. I was just about to call a muster when suddenly McGirk comes flying at me like he’s seen the very devil. What is this thing you call your wife, Hogan? Have you known about her all along? Why didn’t you make a report instead of leaving drunk old Slugger to do it? Answer me dammit!”

“Sir I, I didn’t want to bother you with what I thought were just the ravings of a drunk. I didn’t know what to do. Before today, she never…this never”. You are too frightened to go on.

“I believe you Hogan. I believe you are as surprised as the rest of us. But all the same, you will have to make account and I’m sorry, but you know the girl must go.”

“But our baby!”

Viola shrieks wildly, throwing her head back and raising her arms to the skies. Her eyes, though burning, are sending tears of water down her cheeks. You feel sick to your stomach and are about to vomit when suddenly she grabs you and pulls you back to the edge of the railing. With one quick hop, you’d both be overboard. Or you can pull away and be free of this terror for good, though it will break your heart to do so.
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