The ship rolled back and forth on the billowing waves as Catriona made her way to the captain’s cabin. She had been awakened from a deep and troubled sleep by the first mate, O’Malley. The middle-aged O’Malley wore an expression of cold metal on his weatherworn, contemptuous face.

“Up wi’ ye, now,” he grunted savagely, “to Captain’s cabin.” 

Catriona hefted herself from the hammock, holding onto a nearby beam for support. An amber colored rum bottle rolled from one side of the ship to the other, yet no one stirred from their slumbers as the weary girl climbed the ladder leading to the main deck. O’Malley watched the girl ascend with a crooked smirk on his thin, cruel lips. This would be the last time he would have to rouse the girl from her slumbers.

Catriona knocked thrice on the heavy door before it opened from within. She made her way inside the dark cabin and stood in the middle of the room. The cabin seemed deserted, but she knew better. A single lantern provided a ghostly glow that sent a jolt of fear down the girl’s spine as she stood waiting for the one who had summoned her.

The waves had fortuitously abated. The ticking of an ancient clock nearby held the girl’s thoughts captive. She imagined the gears inside the machine, turning and grinding, as courage found her. 

A hand enclosed on Catriona’s left shoulder from behind. She imagined the claws of a monster, and she knew it was time. It was now or never. She would be the last. Reaching silently into her skirt pocket, Catriona pulled out the knife she had stolen.

Turning, the girl gripped the knife tightly and fell forward, striking her target true. A gasp.  The clock fell silent as the captain fell. 

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