A Small Service - Birdy Brunner
A seagull squawked in the distance. As far as the eye could see was a vast, unforgiving water. The harsh sun seared the sea; the water too warm to be of comfort. This view was tainted by a small speck on the horizon. A boat swayed up and down with the currents of the ocean. Two bodies sat in a sickening boat ride. Both were stripped of almost all of their clothes, save for shorts. At the sound of a bird gawking, one of the bodies twitched. The moving man looked across to his companion.
“Captain”, the moving man said hoarsely.
A low moan emanated from the Captain.
Despite the stifling heat, this noise chilled the moving man to the bones. The moan sounded like a ghost; a ghost not yet dead, but already haunting the living. All sailors feared drowning, but no one thought to fear what might happen if you managed to survive. At least a watery grave seemed quick. Fighting the heavy fatigue, the moving sailor crawled forward.
“My Captain”, he whispered.
The moving sailor grabbed his Captain’s face and cradled it in his hands. The Captain’s old strength shriveled away and his once familiar face has become foreign. The moving sailor shacked his Captain, but he remained as dull and lifeless as a doll. He felt his Captain’s pulse fading. The moving sailor’s expression morphed from defeat to determination.
“Eat me,” the moving sailor demanded. No response.
The moving sailor took off his belt and wrapped it around his right leg. He squeezed the belt, as he attempted to cut off the blood circulation.
“Eat me,” he repeated. Still nothing.
Gently, he grabbed his captain’s head and guided it downward.
For a brief moment, both the Captain and the sailor held their breath in silence. Then, a bite. A tear. Unfathomable pain. Blood rushed out of the moving sailor’s leg, warm, too warm. Both the moving sailor and the Captain emitted harsh, guttural noises. The sound of slurping and crunching filled the air. The moving sailor tightly gripped his Captain’s head. Blood pooled in the boat and overflowed out into the sea. Too much blood; the belt was not strong enough to match the Captain’s might.
Time ceased to exist. The Captain devoured and devoured until he was gagging. As suddenly as it began, it was over. Face bloody, the Captain looked up into the moving sailor’s eyes. Hunger transformed into terror, as the Captain processed what he had done.
“Oh God, oh please, don’t leave me”, the Captain begged.
The Captain pleaded to the heavens and he gripped the moving sailor’s head to his chest. The Captain’s voice grew less feeble, and soon, he was screaming with the power denied from the dying.
The moving sailor laid back onto the Captain’s ribcage. All else faded, as the moving sailor listened to his Captain’s erratic heartbeat. The moving man moved no more. Motionlessly, the sailor looked up into the sky. A solitary seagull circled overhead. The sailor stared up at the bird and at the sun until his vision went black. He then closed his eyes and smiled.