I float in an endless pool of deep cobalt. Light shone in slivers from the surface, yet the pressure against my chest told me I was far too deep to reach that surface.

Part of me was serene in the water and resigned to my fate. Another part deep within my heart raged. It thrashed and screamed and cried out in frustration.

A feeling of a vacuum rose into my throat, clamping it shut. Whatever air was left in my lungs was running out. My eyes were beginning to feel heavy, and my chest burned.

My mind was at war with itself, forever conflicted on whether to fruitlessly try and escape to the surface or to resign myself to my fate. Whatever part of me I had control over, though, simply watched the beams of light shimmer through the ripples.

Somehow it was both peaceful and torturous at the same time.

One of the beams of silver light seemed queer after I noticed it. It was no ray of light, but rather a fish swimming towards me at increasing speed. It was long and thin, like an eel. Its hide was reflective and barely recognizable against the rays of light.

Again, my mind was at a crossroads with what to do. Surely I would be consumed by this creature, but was I not already dead? Was there a reason to resist being swept away in the open maw of the eel?

Did I go out screaming and thrashing about, in fruitless hope of changing my doomed fate, or did I leave the worldly plane with what dignity I had left?

My fist clenched as the eel bolted forth. There was no winning, and there was no survival, but my mind was made. I would rather die hopelessly fighting than with pride.

I outstretched my arms in preparation for impact as whatever air was left in my lungs struggled out as a muffled cry. It was only seconds away now.

3.

2.

1.

And then I felt the water wash away.

I shakily held an empty wooden bucket over my head. Water dripped from my hair down to the cold floor I kneeled on. My grip was so tight on the bucket that my knuckles had turned pale.

Taking a deep breath, I collected myself. I was in the bathhouse, and it was all just a vision… They were getting worse, especially when water was involved. Ever since that sunken ship, submerging myself brought upon horrible feelings, but that intensity of a vision had never happened while I was awake.

In any case, I believed that was a clear indicator that I was done washing. Even though I knew it was not real, my heart still beat like a drum, sending shockwaves resonating all down my body with each thump.

Perhaps I could derive meaning from that feeling of ferocity. My mother made it clear that my time was running out, and since then I had merely pondered on her words when I needed to act.

There was no way to move about the halls during the day in the state I was in. I needed some way to go unnoticed, and I was not nearly stealthy enough to do it by the shadows… There was one other option…

I stood and held the bucket tightly in my hands. It was wood, but the planks were held together by iron, making it quite heavy. After getting myself ready, I waited.

A bell rang, signaling us patients to dress and get out of our stalls. I had other plans.

We were easily identified by our grimy beige canvas clothing. Yet, if I were dressed in the tidy white button-ups of the caretakers, I would be indistinguishable from the rest. I could walk freely to where I was needed.

After a moment, the caretaker began barging through the different stalls, since many patients were far too disassociated to understand what the bell even meant. I held the bucket high and held my breath.

There was always one caretaker, and the patients would not even notice. I just had to make it quick.

He opened the stall beside me and shouted, then I heard his footsteps reach my stall door.

Unlocking it and opening it, the man was completely unprepared for my attack.

With a clean strike on the top of his head with the metal brim of the bucket, the caretaker fell. I took in a sigh of relief. I had done it.

Or so I had thought.

The caretaker groaned and began to slowly raise himself from the floor. I didn’t like to hurt this stranger, but I had no option but to bring the bucket down again, and with that, he was really and truly unconscious.

I leaned down and checked him. His eyes were rolled far back, and his nose was bleeding, but he was breathing. My sympathies were with him since I had only recently been knocked nearly unconscious by a blow to the head when we faced the drugged sailors.

There was no time to waste with further contemplation, though. I quickly stripped the man down to his britches and got myself dressed. Due to how thin I was, the clothing draped over me like a child trying to wear a man’s suit. Nevertheless, I tightened his belt and tucked in the shirt neatly.

Once I no longer looked completely out of place, I left the man in the stall and walked out. Many patients were simply gazing at me confusedly.

If I left immediately, they would almost immediately know one of the caretakers was an imposter, so I decided to usher the patients out of the bathhouse as best I could.

I tried to conceal my face from the patients, hoping that Bradley would not see me. He was unintentionally loose-lipped, and I did not trust him to keep my secret.

After bringing the patients to the lounge, I decided to try my luck. I walked to the two guards that watched the lounge and tried to pass through the doors they kept secure.

Getting near to the door, I got a strange look. The guard held his hand out as my heart started to race.

He continued to glare at me, bringing me to look at myself. Like a fool, I had forgotten that the caretaker collapsed to the wet floor after I hit him. My shirt was soggy and moist.

Trying to act as calmly as my body would let me, I muttered out to him. “One of them put up a fuss… It’s dealt with now…”

The guard pondered my words for a moment, still staring at my overly sized and wet shirt. He then shrugged and opened the door.

Trying to pace my breathing, I went through and found myself in the lobby. After the door did close, I gave myself a moment to calm down. My head ached and my face was flushed. I was never a good liar, and I had decided to take a route that solely relied on deceit.

There was no time to devolve into anxiety. I had to find the staff quarters.

The lobby was a large room with high ceilings. There was a desk at the far side where a nurse would usually be sat, yet there was no one to be seen. There were numerous doors. One door to the east wing where the patients were kept. One to the west where the offices were. And one to the north where the medical wing was.

First, I needed to figure out where the staff quarters even were.

I moved to the receptionist’s desk and peered over it. As I had hoped, there was a map of the building. Sadly, it was too old to accurately show where the living area was. Luckily there were multiple rooms that were not marked as anything, meaning all I needed to do was some simple process of elimination to figure out which was the staff dorms. I had to assume that the largest of those rooms was made into the living quarters.

Making a mental note of the location, I went through the northern door and towards the medical ward.

There was a long hallway. It was mostly empty, and whomever I did happen to pass did not give any care to my appearance or what I was doing. Within just a few moments of walking, I found myself at the door to what I hoped was the staff quarters.

To my dismay, though, it was simply full of large pieces of medical equipment.

Before I left, I tried to peruse the equipment in hopes that I would find something useful for later, yet there was nothing small or discrete enough to stow away.

With that failure, I went to where I remembered the second largest room to be, which was at the very end of the hall.

I counted the doors as I continued down the hall. The closer I got, the more people I ran into. More staff members began congregating near the door I intended to check. It seemed I had the right place.

Moving into the room, I saw a stoic dormitory of beds and bedside tables in a row to the far wall. A few staff members were resting on their beds, and a few more leaving and taking belongings from their bedside table. I took no mind and instead focused on looking as natural as possible whilst I walked to the sheet of paper pinned to the wall.

There, I saw a handwritten list of names and room numbers. I began to search down the crowded roster in my mind.

Murray Brackett, Felix Bradberry, ah, Herbert Bradley. Room 151. Next, I looked for Alfred Hughes, and in time I saw he was in room 200. The last in the hall. All that was left was Price’s room…

I saw the name Finnigan Price, yet there was no room. 'Medical bay' was simply written next to his surname…

There was nothing I could do about it there, though. Wherever he was in the medical bay, I was sure that I could find him.

I left the room and emerged into the hall once more. There was little time until the caretaker I knocked unconscious would be found, I suspected, and once that happened I would be in much more of a rush.

After looking both ways, I noticed something strange. There was a door at the very end of the hall, yet I did not remember it being on the map. It should have been a dead-end…

Compulsion brought me to walk over to it. After trying the handle, I realized it was locked. I did have one other option though, and that was to peek under the crack below the door.

I must know. I thought to myself.

After making sure there was no one behind me to see, I got on my knees and looked. My eyes had to get used to the darkness of the room, but once I did I saw something… Not right.

The wooden floor instantly changed to stone, and it went in mined steps down in the earth. Deep, deep down.

Candles were stationed on the walls and dimly lit into the abyss below. Yet even with the illumination, I could not see the bottom.

Something new shone in the dark. Far down, where I assumed had to be the bottom, opened a set of reflective eyes. Pale yellow, and slit.

They gazed right at me, slowly growing closer as the sound of something lumbering up the cold stone stairs echoed out.

I immediately stood up and began walking in the opposite direction.

Never mind.