No idea where I'm going with this. It just writes itself when it wants to be written. It WAS going to be some sort of zombie apocalypse started by a ship but now I've no idea.

Chapter one.

Black as the night surrounding her, The Estov made its silent passage from Bergen to Le Havre. A transport container of medium tonnage, The Estov had begun its journey in the early 80's, 1982 to be precise. Her hull was sound, However, Her crew were not.
So far, This was an ordinary journey, With no distractions, Rapidly appearing storms or even the slightest hint of choppy seas. The captain, faced with optimum sailing conditions, Expected to make landfall at Le Havre the following morning. The crew rejoiced, For it would mean shore leave and pay. The moon was full, Throwing scintilating shards of white light on the waves like the scales of some vast fish, Shimmering just out of reach beneath the waves
As I said before. There were no problems. Until now, That is.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Captains Log- 03/08/13 ++++++++++++:Time.00.25:++++++++++++++++++++++
+++Estov, Bergen-Le Havre-Medium Haul+++
We found a fishing trawler, Dead in the water. Place stank like an abattoir. There was blood everywhere, But no corpses. We found one survivor, A young man of about 24 unconscious in a storage room,covered with what looks like bite marks right the way down his right arm, And a bat by his side. We've brought him aboard despite the concerns of the security officer.He thinks he was left for a reason. But I can't just leave a another human being to die.... He is near enough to death as it is....What else could I do?The ships doctor, Marksson, Is doing the best he can for him. His chances of survival aren't looking good though. We've stuck a tow cable on the trawler, maybe the police will be able to make sense of it when we reach port. Until then, Though, All we can do is wait.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++End log++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Course set for Le Havre.Autopilot engaged.
Kristor awoke with a start. He lay in the darkness, Well aware that something must have woken him. As deputy security officer, It was his job to investigate any and all night time wandering by the crew members. With a sigh, He rose from the bed, Only to be stopped by the sudden noise outside. A low snuffling reached his ears, followed by the scrape of something sharp and the squeal of the metal as the object was dragged across it. The snuffling grew louder, More desperate as it grew closer to the doorway. The hallway, Illuminated by a flickering light strip inset into the ceiling, Suddenly cast the creature into sharp contrast, Albeit momentarily. The shadow filled the doorframe, And Kristor was able to make out a humanoid form, With inhuman angles projecting where a mans arms might be, And where a mans leg might be traced, Nothing but ragged shadow equally as bent a protrusion as the angles he could make out from the upper half.
Fumbling on his night stand, He grasped something in the palm of his hand. A rubber ball he'd acquired in Bergen before they had set sail. He threw it as hard as he could at the doorway, And it was all he could do to stop himself breathing a sigh of relief as it ricocheted down the hallway, Towards the stairwell, Away from him. The creature squealed what could only have been an approximation of delight from tortured lungs and larynx both, And with a grating screech, It moved into a loping shuffle down the hallway. Kristor could make out little as it went past, But what he'd seen filled him with disgust. Boils, Suppurating and leaking, Lined the surface of something that had probably once been human. There was a long metal pole lodged in its abdomen and trailing behind it, Long enough to reach the ground. It was the source of the noise he had heard earlier. Its arms were distended and curled, And it was missing a leg from the knee down, But it seemed happy enough to use its arms to propel itself forward.
Then the smell hit him. It was like being submerged in a raw, untreated,Month old sewerage for days on end, With no way out. He began to vomit. Then he heard a loud crash, followed by a series of thumps. The creature squealed once more, Then a final thump and the sound of breaking bones reached his ears. The thing was silent. Kristor vomited.
With trembling hands, He wiped his mouth clean and hurriedly dressed himself. He hurried to the door, Closed it and turned to reach for the lights. They didn't seem to have any power. With a curse, He grabbed his flashlight from the table, And shined it about until he found the emergency intercom.
**************Captains Log*********
I've lost contact with everyone near the infirmary. Not one person has responded to the radio calls or pagers. I sent the security officer and his detail an hour ago, But he hasn't checked in in fifteen minutes. Last report said they had encountered some sort of creatures...Apparently made up of the crew....By the Gods, What have I done? Have I unleashed some infection on the crew? I lost power to the cameras near the Infirmary an hour ago. I have nobody left on the ship who hasn't sought shelter and barricaded themselves either in the bridge with me or in the aft section. I need to get back to the crew, raise their spirits before one of them tries to do something stupid. Captain out.
*******************END LOG******************
Kristor wiped his mouth and hit the broadcast button.
"Hello? Anyone? This is deputy officer Kristor, broadcasting from my quarters.Is there anyone receiving? "
He moved to the doorway, Still illuminated by the flickering, half-working hall light, as he shut the door. A voice crackled on the intercom.
"Kristor?You're alive? This is the captain. Have you had any contact with any other members of the crew?"
"Captain, Something just came at me. I have no idea what it was but it...it looked like Marksson from the infirmary! What the hell is going on? The electricity seems to be running on emergency and there is a stink coming from the hallway worse than an open sewer!"

"I'm going to be honest with you" Replied the Captain. "I have no idea what the hell is going on or what has happened. To the best of my knowledge, Some sort of infection is spreading through the ship. I've put us in lockdown, Anyone who hasn't barricaded themselves somewhere is in the bridge. The rest are...they.....That is to say they are unaccounted for. I sent Marx to the infirmary with his detail..But I haven't heard from him in so long a time for me to think they've been infected....Power is down almost everywhere but the bridge, As we run on an independent generator, So your going to have to get the power in the dormitory sections back online before you can even think of dealing with this and getting back to us. Is that clear? If you can get the power back, I'll have the cameras online and will be able to assist you."
"I understand, Captain...But why didn't you reach me before? Try to wake me? I'd probably be dead by now if you had."
"To be honest, It was all a little insane earlier. We forgot about you. In the wake of Marx heading to the infirmary, I realized you'd just been let off your shift and would be asleep. I was trying to raise you when the electricity went. Now get moving, I- no, We need to find out what's happening."
With a sigh, Kristor spat an affirmative at the intercom and moved to dress himself in his security uniform. Stumbling about in the dark for a few minutes until he located his flashlight, He retrieved his taser and baton from the armoury locker by his bedside.
The flickering illumination from the hallway suddenly cut out. He approached the door, Apprehension shooting through his veins faster than heroin. The door suddenly creaked open slowly, And a gentle hiss sounded from the hallway. Kristor stood, Rooted to the floor. He felt as if he was being dissected by something greater than him, A great intensity of hate and malice so strong it burned a hole in his very soul. With a gentle, Almost motherly clacking, The feeling dissipated and he heard a low scuttling as the thing moved itself away from him. The further away the scuttling, The more control he regained of his motor functions. He dry retched and leaned on the wall for support. This...This wasn't natural. He needed to get somewhere...Anywhere safe. Why he hadn't been killed outright was the least of his worries. Body trembling, He moved towards the door.

The End

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