Without the rest of the crew to help her, she was on her own, navigating, piloting the trawler over waves churning high enough and hard enough to swallow them whole.
She was close enough to feel the pull of the edge. Her instruments had lost their way, spinning, needles buried, a symphony of clicks and whines, a strange, black liquid consuming the glass over the displays.
The Mariner spoke to the dark substance. “You can’t stop me. It’s too late. Go below with the rest.”
Below, where the crew crowded together, their hands bound, mouths gagged.
Below, where they couldn’t see the fearsome destination she had in mind.
The floor tilted as the trawler fought its way up a wall of water, and the liquid on the instruments splashed to the floor near the Mariner’s boots. The boat crested the wave and tipped forward, sending paper and tools rushing forward, and the edge of everything rose into view, a starry eternity beyond.
“You see?” she shrilled, her voice breaking.
The dark liquid spread across the floor, up the walls. It stole the stars as it covered the windows, as it enveloped the Mariner in a cocoon of night, and gone were the crashing waves and the boat.
The edge guardian’s voice was all that the Mariner heard, all that she felt.
“Forbidden.”
In the void, she screamed.
——-
Like short fiction? How about a whole dang book of it? My newest release is available in both print and ebook forms on the Amazon. Link down yonder.
Professional Stringer of Words 