Entry #590309, added on 02-20-09 @ 7:44 am EST
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| Chapter Thirty Three | Entry #590309 |
The Christel had navigated its way down through the Thames and out into the open sea and was now firmly sailing out towards Bremerhaven dockyards. Silas found himself relishing the trip, he’d always loved the open sea and found the very isolation most relaxing. The fast paced nature of the business world always meant there was some rodent of a man bleeding him of his time, a most precious commodity, but out here with a cool breeze in his hair he could escape all such bothersome intrusions, even if it be just for a few short hours to Maxton Silas it was a few hours of pure undiluted bliss.
The same could not be said for Charles Mason. Ever since leaving the docks at London he’d been growing increasingly agitated, almost to the point of panic. His life’s work was all at the hands of the sea, hands he had long since lost all faith in after the tragic death of his mother and father in a violent shipwreck when he was but a boy all those years ago. The sea had destroyed him once in his youth who was to say it wouldn’t play the same sordid trick on him again.
Seeking comfort in his creations Mason had decided to spend the voyage resting alongside the very boxes containing his life’s work while at all times gripping the very bible he’d based his work on, that yellow stained, battered and scorched parchment, known simply as ‘The Book of Life’. Mason sat seated alongside the crate beholding the Huntz, the door wedged slightly open as he talked to it long and softly until the vengeful arms of fatigue finally grasped Mason into the deepest of deep sleeps.
Without Mason’s soothing voice containing the Huntz attention, it soon had become restless and decided to venture out into its unusual new surroundings. Crawling out from the crate it glanced over to Mason’s slumped sleeping form before beginning its exploration of the vessels scarred wooden decks.
Silas had abandoned his position on deck and was making his way over to the master of the ships quarters. Captain Brunings, a German of many years seamanship had been under the indirect employment of Maxton Silas for seven years now and as could have only been expected had cordially invited Maxton to join him for a drink to celebrate his voyage.
“Sir Silas, it is with great pleasure I can welcome you to the Christel” spoke Brunings as he answered the door and held his arm outstretched pre-empting the inevitable handshake of the two gentlemen.
“The honour is mine, I must say Captain Brunings I greatly admire, indeed I envy you, what I would give to be able to enjoy the peacefulness of the sea”
“Thank you Sir, after all these years I could not see myself anywhere else, I must thank you for the continued opportunity to allow me work under your employ”
“You are most welcome dear Captain, your record is most exemplary, indeed that’s the very reason why this vessel was requested for this important trip, and provided we should arrive as scheduled, which I have no doubts you will achieve I look forward to having you in my continued employment for a great many years to come. Anyway enough with the pleasantries dear friend, how’s about we have ourselves that drink”
“Thank you Sir, of course, please make yourself comfortable” replied Brunings as he quickly turned his efforts to pouring two small glasses of bourbon and joining Silas in a toast to a safe and uneventful voyage.
The young master Torsten Brunings sat out on the bow of the Christel gazing longingly out to the ocean, lost amongst his dreams. He’d been away at sea with his dad and away from the loving arms of his mother for almost three months now, a long time for a five year old boy. Meanwhile the Huntz prowled the sparse decks of the Christel looking for something to satisfy the hunger raging in its belly. The small master Brunings never even had the opportunity to stare his killer in the eyes let alone let out a scream as in one expedient yet silent attack the Huntz severed the small boys head from his shoulders and held the bleeding mass in its mutated jaw before unceremoniously crushing and digesting the shattered remains. When the Huntz had taken its fill the well learned monster disposed of the scant remains of the boy’s carcass overboard before licking up every last drop of blood and returning to the baron crate from which it came.
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