Shrouded Seascape

Charles reached out his hand to grab Bandages and pulled the latter to stand behind him. He unsheathed the black knife attached to his boot and used it as a machete to hack through the branches entwined with bandages ahead.

The thorny branches broke easily under Charles' relentless strikes, yet the cut ends revealed nothing but emptiness.

The duo ventured deeper into the forest, and soon, Charles caught sight of the other individuals Bandages had mentioned. The scene before him left him in shock.

A peculiar dwarf tree stood before him, its trunk adorned with long spikes entwined with the bodies of the unconscious youths. Unconscious humans were suspended in mid-air, and they resembled hanging slabs of cured meat, swaying gently like the tree's strange fruit.

The tree bore not just one "fruit," but multiple such "fruits" hung from its branches.

"Save them," Charles ordered, tightening his grip on the black knife as he charged forward.

One of the young men fell to the ground with a plop. The pain woke him from his unconsciousness. He stared at Charles who was frenziedly hacking at the branches. In a daze, he asked, "Who are you? Have you seen our captain?"

Charles could not afford the time to answer his questions. With every swing of his knife, he severed the branches and rescued all the captives. But this time round, something was stirring within the hollow branches. A cluster of short, quivering pink tentacles protruded from the cross-section of the wood.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The trunk of the dwarf tree trembled, attracting everyone's attention as their gazes landed on the tree.

The rust-colored trunk slowly split open. A few gazes peered out from the crevice and landed on their target—Charles.

A thought flashed through Charles' mind. This thing is alive?

The dwarf tree's movements intensified. The crack widened to reveal twisted flesh and a yellow-brown eyeball brimming with boundless fury.

"Run!" Everyone immediately sprinted. Even if they couldn't comprehend the situation fully, their instinct compelled them to run for their lives.

Before they could take a few steps, they heard a deafening explosion from behind them. The dwarf tree had burst apart and the contorted, fleshy creatures crawled out.

At first glance, they resembled starfish covered in a layer of black hair. Upon closer inspection, the black hair were actually layers of dark tendrils. Right in the middle of their bodies was an orange-yellow eye and a large mouth brimming with sharp fangs.

The monstrous creatures opened their gaping maws, their tendrils flailing wildly as they relentlessly pursued their fleeing prey.

Fortunately, Charles had cleared a path beforehand, and the distance between the two parties continued to widen.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

All the tree trunks in the vicinity trembled and split apart. It was as if Charles and his party had triggered some hidden mechanism. A variety of grotesque beings seemed to have been rudely awakened from their slumber as they stretched out their nauseating flesh appendages.

They swayed and released piercing, headache-inducing screeches. Their appearance instantly turned the entire island into a living hell.

The malevolent gazes from all directions sent an icy chill down the humans' spines, and their limbs froze in response.

"Quick! Faster!!" Charles supported the young man as they tried to outrun the horrors in pursuit of them.

They seemed to have run for a long while, but their situation had actually grown increasingly dire. Apart from the newly appearing fleshy abominations behind them, even the peculiar trees ahead of them started quivering.

Just then, a writhing mass of tentacles intertwined to form a vast net in front of them. They were now encircled!

At this critical juncture, Charles suddenly recalled something. He reached into his waist and felt for a hard object—the explosives he had brought with him.

Boom!

With a thunderous boom, the force of the blast unleashed a grotesque, crimson shower of blood and pieces of flesh. The grisly aftermath revealed a now-unblocked path in front of them.

Using the explosives, Charles led the party straight ahead. However, their supply of explosives was limited and dwindled with every explosion. Their faces grew grim as they had yet to catch any sight of the sandy beach.

Just when Charles was going to throw the last packet of explosives in his hand, the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore reached their ears. The beach was just ahead!

Everyone understood what this meant and hastened their sprint. They squeezed out every remaining ounce of strength from their tired bodies.

The last packet of explosives was ignited and thrown. The hard, solid ground had now been replaced by soft sand. They were finally out.

The party of seven rushed frantically toward the wooden pinnace on the shore. Meanwhile, the fleshy monsters were in hot pursuit.

In his peripheral vision, Charles caught a glimmer of gold—it was the Fhtagn statue that he had discarded earlier.

Charles took a few quick strides, scooped up the statue, and leaped onto the wooden boat. The others desperately grabbed the oars. Just before the lumps of flesh could catch up with them, they had returned to the embrace of the sea.

Seemingly afraid of the seawater, the monsters recoiled upon contact with it and slithered back.

Once the group had returned on board S.S. Mouse, they collectively heaved a sigh of relief. All of them collapsed on the ground and gasped for air like exhausted dogs.

Although all of his muscles protested, Charles forced himself through the soreness to stand up. The danger had not yet been fully averted—they needed to leave this island.

"Second Engineer, fire up the engine. Sailors, hoist the anchor. First Mate, take the realm. We are leaving this cursed land."

"Aye, Captain!" the crew answered in cohesion.

As he watched the crew members swiftly carrying out his orders, Charles felt a sudden sense of unease. Something felt off. He quickly ran through his memories and was astonished to discover that with the return of all his crew, he could also now call them by their names.

It seemed that, whether it was the island itself or the monsters that tampered with their memories, their memories would be restored the moment they left that wretched place.

Leaning against the ship with both hands on the railings, Charles looked into the distance where the island was slowly fading into the darkness. The grotesque monsters appeared rather blurry now, but he could make out their writhing tendrils. They were swaying rhythmically as if performing some sort of ritual. The eerie backdrop of darkness further intensified the creepiness of the sight.

Under Charles' watchful eye, the smokestacks of S.S. Mouse billowed with black smoke once again, and the group gradually distanced themselves from the peculiar island.

It was only until mealtime that Charles got to explain the events that transpired. Only then did the crew members comprehend the situation and were shocked and bewildered.

"Goodness gracious, an uncharted island is really this dangerous? No wonder the exploration ships have such a high disappearance rate."

"My memories were wiped and restored? Captain, you're not pulling my leg, are you?"

After taking a sip of soup, Charles cleared his throat, and the murmurs quieted down. He scanned each person's face and said, "Everyone, report your names and positions. Let's cross-check our memories and see if there are any inconsistencies."

The mysterious island had him on high alert again. It could silently make the crew vanish and erase everyone's memories. Its power was deeply disturbing and unsettling to Charles.

"Bandages. Position:... First Mate. Duty: To assist the Captain in organizing work plans… and responsible for compiling… the cargo loading schedule. Helmsman covering the… 1200 to 2400 shift!"

"James. Position: Second Engineer. Duty: Maintaining the proper functioning of the engine room. Overseeing the propulsion system, auxiliary equipment, boilers, lubrication, cooling, and fuel."

"Frey. Position: Cook. Duty: Preparing crew's meals."

"Dipp. Position: Boatswain. Duty: Guide sailors in the maintenance, repair and handling of the anchor, ropes, and equipment. Lead sailors in tasks such as painting, rigging, and high-altitude work."

"Walter. Position: A.B. Duty: Steering and watch duty, as well as routine deck maintenance."

"Jack. Position: O.S.[1]. Duty: Handle mooring lines, deploy gangways, and also various deck operations."

"Anna. Position: Ship's Doctor. Duty: Treatment of crew members' illnesses and routine medical check ups."

After cross-referencing their memories and finding no abnormalities, Charles finally breathed a sigh of relief. His concerns had been unfounded, and the ordeal was finally behind them.

1. O.S. stands for Ordinary Seaman ☜

Cosyjuhye's Thoughts

Warning bells alert!!!