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 Abysmal Tale Number Twelve: Solitude

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Chaos
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Posts : 259
Join date : 2009-08-07
Age : 34
Location : South Dakota

PostSubject: Abysmal Tale Number Twelve: Solitude   Thu Oct 22, 2009 7:24 am

Welcome Back Ladies and Gentlemen.

This is one I like to call: Solitude



Humans are social creatures. We need to know that there is somebody else out there, being alone is something that just generates fear in just about everybody, imagination runs away from them and the madness can set in.

There is another kind of fear, this is the fear of knowing that somebody was supposed to be there, and all the signs of them being there are obvious, but the only company you can seem to attract is emptiness and silence. All the signs of life are present, but there is none to speak of, anywhere. This is the story of the ghost ship, typically there are no signs of the crew, but it looks like they should still be there.


On April 18, 2003 there was a ship found drifting like this in the ocean and it was discovered by the Florida Coast Guard. Aboard this ship there were no people found, evidence showed that when ever they disappeared it had to be just before some sort of a meal, there was a set table and beer cans that were opened but still almost full.

The ship itself was a 40 foot luxury boat with no damage to it's hull, it was called the Freedom. Authorities searched the boat the best they could but there was no evidence of piracy or foul play. If bad weather was to blame, why was there not more damage to the boat and no sign of a mess?
They only found a ship's log and with it they found their only clues to what happened to the people. Most of the log is typical normal stuff and written more like a journal than anything. It is the last few pages that confuse them more than help.

Tuesday April 15, 2003:

I am the last one that remains alive on this cursed boat. I dont know why. I dont know where they went to, or why it started. I dont even know what IT is. But I do know that I am trapped up here in the bridge. I have been here going on three days. The days are not so bad, it is the nights that are terrible.
Since this is going to be the last thing I ever put to paper, I can only hope my pen does not quit on me, it is the only one I have left.

It started as a weekend trip out on the ocean Me and three others: Edward, Will, Tyrone, and my self. God bless their pitiful souls as I write this and I can only hope what ever hell they have fallen into I dont end up there as well.

The first day of the trip was uneventful. we fished and drank and told stories and complained about various things in life, you know guy stuff....how I miss those times so dearly.

It was noon on the second day that we noticed the island in the distance, and uncharted island? I know nothing of coordinates or map making or even boating. The others seemed quite perplexed. The sense of adventure overwhelmed common sense. I had a great foreboding about this place and I did not want to go on to it. Perhaps this is why I am the last remaining one...who knows..nobody will ever know.

We scouted the eerie place out. It seemed more like a bar of sand than anything, but the sand was black and if the wind blew towards us we could smell something wicked coming from it. Their was a slab of rock in the dead center of the island that shined in the sunlight. It was Tyrone that decided we should try and get it, this was no easy task and I was not willing to be apart of it at all.

Through a great effort we finally found the means to pull it aboard our ship. The the thing was heavy and blacker than the night sky. Odd symbols were carved upon it, symbols that we could all just tell were old. We set sail again and tried to study our new find.

We never did find out what it was.

Night came and the odd island was behind us and gone in the distance, we decided to cut the trip short and come home. Speaking of the night, it comes once more. I must prepare for this night and I hope I can continue this......


April 16, Wednesday??

I still remain. Noises and the constant lapping of the sea against the boat keep for a sleepless night, I had forgotten what sleep is, oh how I would give anything to go back in time and make my refusal steadfast and just stay home. Alas I cannot, and I shall make use of the time I have.

The black slab was evil, it had to be. We all slept and when we awoke there were only three of us left. The one who knew the boat the best had vanished in the night, no screams. No sign...no trace...all of his belongings remained. This is when the real fear kicked in...None of us knew really how to run the boat, but we figured it out, Ed was the first to vanish, the rest of us went into a panic, and of course the blame game started up, the thing we found could be a lot of money, looking back on it, it makes no sense at all. While the others were fighting I threw the slab over board, it did not even make a splash or anything, it was just gone.


This was the last day I saw any of them alive. It was my turn to steer the boat. When I went to check on the others for a shift change...I was alone, as I am now....I don't know what happened to them. Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I sailed into hell. Sometimes I think I hear their voices down below, beckoning me to join them...I refuse to go down there. I wont do it...I refuse.


April 17th Thursday??


I dont even know what day it is anymore....Sleep is impossible, I am hopelessly lost and terrified beyond my limits...help me...somebody please help me.

The stars are all wrong at night now..I don't understand any of them anymore. I feel like they are watching me...waiting for me. We disturbed some ancient thing and now it wants me...ME!!

((Unreadable))

I DIE!!!

The log was stained with the only blood that was found on the entire ship. There was no damage to any of the radio equipment, but the radio was off the hook and it seemed as though somebody was desperately trying to radio for help, no distress signal was ever recorded coming from that ship. There was however a strange unknown viscous slime attached to the ships helm, what it was remains unknown to this day.


So concludes the known story of the ship called Freedom.
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Abysmal Tale Number Twelve: Solitude
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