Greedy Granny Grook

‘There!’ he shouted to the sailor, his arm stretched out to the pitch black, ‘Get the lifebelt, damn it. Fast!’

The sailor hurried to sound the alarm and struggled with getting the red and white ring, ‘Felix’ written on it in big black letters, off the wall. The pelting rain and merciless waves threatened to throw him overboard as he ran back to the man. The siren screeched into the night, waking everyone on board. Almost immediately the ship roared in reply, trying to stop its momentum.

‘Hurry, man!’ he screamed, his shivering arm pointing to an invisible point closer and closer to the ship.

‘I can’t see anything,’ the sailor replied, straining to be heard over the storm, ‘I don’t know where to throw it.’

‘She’s going to go under the boat!’ he replied. Despite the deluge battering him, his eyes focused on the darkness, his arm now closer to vertical.

The sailor muttered a quick prayer and threw the lifebelt into the gale, ‘Keep pointing, mister!’ he shouted to the soaked man as he ran to the nearest searchlight. The beam pierced the darkness, illuminating the fury below. He moved the spot quickly but methodically, trying to find whatever the man was trying to show him. A small crowd was forming around the pointing man, despite the inclement weather.

The circle of light stopped suddenly, illuminating first the red and white ring and then, a few meters from it, a large piece of flotsam with a person holding on to it. The small crowd of sailors and passengers started hollering, trying to encourage the castaway to reach for the buoy. Whoever was on the bridge was aware of the events, but the Felix was too big and cumbersome, and the flotsam was too close. It was impossible to use the ship to protect the rescue from wind and waves.

The castaway remained immobile despite the light and yells, just moments away from crashing into the steel hull. The soaked man kicked off his shoes and let his coat slide to the floor. Before the sailors could stop him, he was in the air, bracing for impact as he dove feet first. He disappeared under the surface, the sea immediately erasing any vestige of the dive.

The silence that gripped the onlookers turned to effusion when he resurfaced, swimming deftly to the lifebelt, then to the flotsam. There were gasps as he struggled with the unresponsive victim, trying to secure them to the ring, the savage waves bringing them closer and closer to the unforgiving metal. He dragged the body out of the flotsam, the crew on deck pulling the lifebelt line, towing them carefully to the Felix. Other shipmates lowered two rope ladders, and two volunteers went down to the water line to securely hoist the castaway to safety and to help the exhausted rescuer back on board.

‘It’s a woman!’, one of the sailors shouted, and the others crossed themselves.

‘A woman in a storm,’ another replied, ‘Nothing good comes from this.’

‘Shut up and do your jobs,’ an older mate barked at them, ‘Or you’ll be in coal duty for the rest of the trip, you superstitious sons of bitches.’

Two stretchers, stout white canvas over a thin metal frame, were waiting deckside. The shivering man and unresponsive woman were wrapped snuggly in blankets, laid down and hurried indoors. The small white wheels made next to no noise on the burgundy carpet of the narrow corridors, the brass handrails preventing the hastily pushed stretchers from scuffing the dark wood panels.

They reached the infirmary, a small windowless room in the bowels of the ship. It was immaculately clean, smelling faintly of ether and chlorine. There was a small desk, a metal file cabinet and a medicine cupboard. On the far wall, there was a small bed. A sailor and an officer were waiting inside the room, and when the two stretchers were in it, the infirmary became quite cramped.

‘Were there only two castaways?’ the medical officer asked.

‘No, Doc, only one,’ one of the sailors replied, ‘The woman was in the water, this gentleman is a passenger, and jumped in to get her.’

The doctor looked with admiration to the huddled man, ‘Brave man.’ He turned his attention to the woman, ‘Thank you, men, you can leave now,’ he said to the sailors while checking the woman for a pulse, ‘Rob and I will busy ourselves with the patients.’

The sailors reluctantly headed out of the infirmary, and Rob closed the door.

‘I am Dr Michael Jones, what’s your name, sir?’ the doctor asked the trembling man.

‘Smith,’ he replied, his eyes looking up from within the blankets, ‘John Smith.’

‘I would like for you to get out of your wet clothes now, Mr Smith,’ the doctor said, and without waiting for a reply he addressed the sailor, ‘Help Mr Smith with his clothes, Rob, and then get him some dry blankets and a cup of brandy.’

John didn’t say anything, just forced himself to stand on shaky legs and let the sailor remove his clothes and pile them in a corner, where the sailors had left his coat and shoes. On the other side of the room, the doctor disrobed the unconscious woman and transferred her to the bed, wrapping her in a dry blanket. A similar dry blanket suddenly engulfed him, and a small beaker was thrust into his hands, full of a golden liquid.

‘Sorry, sir,’ Rob said, ‘We don’t have proper glasses down here.’

John nodded and lifted the beaker to his lips as he sat on the desk chair.

‘Fill some water bottles with warm water,’ the doctor was now saying, ‘Not too hot, or it will scald her. She’s too cold, it’s a miracle that she’s alive at all.’

The doctor folded the stretchers out of the way and walked up to John, ‘How are you feeling, Mr Smith?’

‘Not sure,’ John replied, ‘The brandy seems to be helping.’

The doctor smiled, ‘Shall I get someone to take you to your room?’

John kept quiet for a moment, then his eyes widened and he exclaimed, ‘I don’t remember my room number! What’s happening to me?’

The doctor seemed unconcerned, ‘You were very long in the freezing water, temporary partial amnesia is expected,’ he smiled and continued, ‘I once attended a man that, after falling overboard, lost his ability to speak English. It will come back to you as you warm up.’

As the doctor returned to the woman’s side, the door opened and the captain of the Felix entered, looking worried.

‘How are they, Doc?’ he asked, looking around, stopping on John, ‘Is this the man that saved the day?’

He moved towards John with an outstretched hand, that John struggled to meet.

‘That is Mr John Smith, Gabriel,’ the doctor barked from the other side of the room, ‘Now leave him alone. He was too long in the water and needs to regain his senses.’

‘Nonsense,’ the captain replied, ‘He seems perfectly fine, all things considered,’ he turned to John, ‘Mr Smith, that was a very brave, but very reckless thing to do. You could have gotten yourself killed.’

‘I was Navy,’ John muttered, ‘Know what I’m doing.’

The captain smiled and patted John on the shoulder, ‘Good man,’ he said, ‘ Good man.’

He walked to the bed and looked at the woman. She was beautiful, the lines of her face reminiscent of the portraits of the Dutch masters. She was small and slender, and even wrapped in the blanket he could see her hair was long, strong and coal-black.

‘How is she, Michael?’ he asked the doctor.

‘Hard to say,’ the doctor replied, ‘She’s shivering now, and that’s a good sign. If we manage to warm her up and she doesn’t catch a fever, she should be up tomorrow. Otherwise...’

‘Very good!’ the captain interrupted, ‘Very, very good. When she wakes up make sure she’s taken care of. She should join me for dinner tomorrow.’

He turned and walked towards the door, ‘You too, Mr Smith, I insist on your company.’

John waived at the captain and went back to shivering.

Halfway through the door, the captain turned to Rob, ‘Make sure Mr Smith’s clothes are washed and pressed as fast as possible,’ he turned back to add, ‘And the ladies too, of course. If they're not suitable do find a replacement.’

‘Yes, sir!’ Rob replied as the captain shut the door in his face.

‘Prick..’ the young man muttered, his eyes widening when he realised the doctor had heard him, ‘I’m sorry, Doc, it wasn’t... I didn’t...’

‘Calm down, I didn’t hear anything,’ the doctor said, ‘Besides, he is a prick. But don’t you repeat that. Hurry up and do as you were told.’

Rob smiled and started collecting all the clothes into a canvas bag.

The doctor looked at John, ‘Seems like tomorrow we dine together.’

The first-class dining room was a marvel of light and sound, and John had never seen anything like it. He was dressed in a dark blue three-piece suit and was following the steward that was to take him to the captain’s table.

The ethereal light of the gas chandeliers reflected on the polished marble floors, involving everyone and everything in a dream-like glow. Sober dark wood walls were punctuated by golden rococo carvings, giving it life and texture like foam on a dark sea. The tables were round and large, covered with pure white cloths and decorated with fresh flowers in delicate vases. Each sat up to eight diners, garbed in their finest evening wear and most expensive jewellery. At the head of the salon, a string quartet played on a stage, its music barely audible above the ringing of crystal and fine porcelain, and the happy chatter of beautiful people.

The captain’s table was standing on a small platform at one corner, on the left side of the stage. The platform was segregated from the rest of the salon by a small fence of the same intricate carvings that, at regular intervals, would rise in delicate columns, branching at the top to converge into a beautiful arch. The table was the largest in the room, long and narrow. With the captain sitting at the end and six guests joining him, it stood half empty.

John passed below the golden archway, and the captain’s face lit up. He cleaned his lips with the beautifully embroidered napkin and stood up.

‘My dear friends, I told you I had a surprise for you,’ he proclaimed, ‘Let me introduce you the man of the hour, Mr JohnSmith!’ There was a murmur as all eyes turned to the new arrival, ‘Mr Smith was the brave, brave man that last night rescued our castaway from the storm.’

The men around the table stood and offered their hands in compliment, that John took in solid handshakes. The women smiled and delicately clapped, their interest in the stranger increasing by the moment. The captain moved John to the empty seat at his right, then whispered something to the steward, who nodded and hurried out. The captain sat down and motioned to the waiter, that immediately approached John with the dinner menu.

‘I have been telling our friends of your adventure yesterday, Mr Smith. You still have to tell me exactly what happened.’ As John motioned to speak, the captain interrupted him, ‘Where are my manners, let me introduce my other guests. This is Miss Helen Alice Wilson, the younger daughter of the industrialist Jack Wilson; Doña Fermina Oliva y Ocana, wife of Don José Oliva, owner of the largest silver mines in Uruguay; Mlle Emma Sägesser, governess of Duke Philip von Graff; Mr Sante Righini, of Righini Metallurgy; Mr Louis Gustave Joseph Lesueur, the famous Oxford Professor; and Mr EdwinHerbert Keeping, the Managing Director of Brenner and Sons.

John smiled to every new name, but his eyes betrayed the lack of interest in any of the formidably wealthy diners. The captain insisted that he recounted the night's rescue, only to interrupt him again.’It's the darndest thing, you know? We have no idea where that woman appeared from. There was no distress call last night, and no one was able to tell me what ships were supposed to be in this lane. Darndest thing indeed.’

Miss Wilson, her eyes gleaming at John, used her little girl voice, ‘Captain, you're being so mean,’ she fiddled with her long pearl necklace, ‘You should let Mr Smith tell his story.’

The captain laughed, ‘Of course, of course, my dear,’ he turned to John, ‘You should tell us all, man.’

John looked around, sighed, and started, ‘Well...’

‘But it's the darndest thing, I tell you!’ the captain exclaimed again, ‘There are old tales about these waters, and the older sailors are talking already.’

Miss Wilson pierced the old man with her eyes, but before she could protest the interruption Mlle Sägesser asked, ‘What do you mean, Captain? What tales are those?’

The younger woman glared at the older one but resigned herself to sit back and look dreamingly at John.

‘There's an old legend of a sea witch, a devilish creature that was cursed by Neptune himself to roam these waters, and every decade take one ship for herself,’ the captain's voice grew sombre as he continued, ‘It is said that she rises from the water as an ancient woman, and brings the ship down to the briny depths, leaving no living soul to tell the tale. The sailors call her 'Granny Grook'!’

John tried to stifle his laughter but ended up failing miserably. The guests looked at him laughing, and some started chuckling along. ’Granny Grook...’ he said in between laughs ‘...of all the names...’

The captain started laughing nervously along with him, ‘Yes, indeed... these old sailor superstitions.’

Miss Wilson was about to plead for John's story again when a steward approached the captain. He leaned over and whispered something, and the old man jumped to his feet.

‘Mr Smith,’ he said, ‘I think it's best if you come with me.’

John got up and joined the captain as he left the dining room.

‘The woman is finally awake!’ the captain said as walked briskly along the corridor, ‘I suppose she will want to thank you.’

They arrived at the infirmary, where the doctor was waiting for them, sitting by the bed. The woman on the bed was awake, but her eyes were glazed and her expression slightly vacant.

‘Ah, here they are, finally,’ he said, gesturing to the men, ‘Miss Mallon, meet Captain Briggs, the captain of this overfed canoe, and Mr John Smith, who was so kind as to fish you out of the water. Gentlemen, this is Miss Cassandra Mallon.’

John jumped in front of the captain and took Cassandra's hands in his, ‘Miss Mallon, I am so happy that you are well, you have no idea what this means to me.’

Cassandra blushed, and wasn't sure what to respond, ‘The good doctor told me that it's thanks to you that I am here, and that I should grateful for your help.’

The doctor pushed the captain aside, ‘Let's leave the young ones alone for a bit, we need to talk.’

They stepped out of the infirmary and the captain asked immediately, ‘What ship was she in? What happened to it?’

‘I don't know yet,’ the doctor said, ‘She woke up screaming, in a blind panic. From what I could understand of her rambling, she was terrified of “the old woman”, and said that she had killed everyone.’

‘That is insanity!’ the captain exclaimed as he paced up and down the corridor, ‘She must have heard some sailor talk of the legend of Granny Grook and conflated it with the events. I need to interview her, Michael.’

The doctor shook his head, ‘I'm sorry, Gabriel, I had to give her some morphium to calm her down, and it seems to have impaired her memory. She acts as if nothing happened.’

A woman's scream rang from the infirmary, and John appeared at the door.

‘You need to help, Doctor,’ the young man said, ‘She seems to be going mad.’

The two men ran inside, to see the woman in the bed, huddled against the corner with pure terror on her face.

‘It's her!’ she screamed, ‘Kill me! Oh please kill me!’

‘Hold her down, Gabriel!’ the doctor said as he too tried to control the panicking woman, ‘She must be having an adverse reaction to the morphium.’

‘Kill me, you fools!’ Cassandra insisted, ‘It's the only way to save everyone.’

The doctor ran to the cabinet. He returned with a soaked cloth that he pressed against her face. As she breathed in the chloroform, her body turned limp.

‘What in the hell was that, Gabriel?’ the captain asked, ‘What did she mean, kill her?’

‘Damned if I know, Michael,’ the doctor turned around, ‘What did you say to her, Mr Smith?’

The young man was not in the infirmary. The captain stepped out to check the corridor, only to fly back in and crash into the desk.

‘Gabriel!’ the doctor shouted as he ran to help his friend. He stopped frozen in mid-step as a horror crossed the threshold. An old woman... no, not old, ancient, crossed through the door. She was naked, her skeletal body covered by loose, blue-greenish skin, that looked slathered in a slow-dripping mucus. Her long matted hair did little to hide the enormous white eyes, her huge contorted nose, or the lipless mouth full of cracked and jagged teeth. Her hands were contorted claws, ending in black talons, promises of an excruciating death.

‘Granny Grook!’ the captain mumbled as he tried to get up, ‘What did you do with Mr Smith?’

The nightmare stopped and looked confused for a moment. Then it laughed, a horrible, gurgling sound that chilled the heart of the two friends.

‘John... Smith...’ she said, and her face slowly started to melt, splashing on the ground.

The two men screamed, and the doctor dragged the captain away from the apparition, and near to the bed.

‘Kill me...’ Cassandra sighed, half-conscious, ‘It's the only way...’

On the emptiness left by the monster's face, another started to coalesce, as if emerging from underwater. Again the men screamed as they saw the face of John Smith looking at them. The face disappeared in a burst of bubbles, and the monster was there again, looking at them.

‘Ah, hell,’ the captain said, ‘She's five feet and eighty pounds, damned if I'm running.’

He took the chair and swung it as hard as he could. The monster stretched a hand and stopped it in its arch. She pulled the chair with impossible force, throwing the captain to the floor.

‘What do you want, Granny Grook?’, the doctor whimpered.

Again the monster laughed, chilling everyone that heard it. ’My name is Gran'h I G'ruk, mortal,’ the monster started, ‘I rule this waters since before time itself.’

‘Neptune cursed you,’ the captain moaned.

‘Don't be ridiculous,’ the monster spat, ‘Neptune needs the existence of sailors, while I will gladly consume them as they trespass on my domains. Neither of us wanted a war, so we made a pact. Every seven years I choose a ship, and feed on the souls of those on board.’

‘But you destroyed Miss Mallon's ship.’ Michael said, ‘The tribute is paid, you can go.’

The monster laughed, ‘Imbecile, do you imagine for a moment that you can command me? I laid Ms Mallon on the path of the Felix, and I made sure she was taken in, making this crew hers while she lives.’

Realisation flashed across Michael's face. He reached for a scalpel and lunged at Cassandra, but hesitated. He couldn’t take an innocent life.

‘Do it.’ she pleaded.

The black talons stabbed deep into Michael's back, puncturing the shoulder blade as if it was paper. The next instant the doctor was flying across the room. The monster was now between the men and Cassandra and she didn’t intend to let them pass.

Gabriel flashed his knife, and Michael understood. He grabbed a bronze paperweight from the desk and struck the monster in the face, as hard as he could. At the same time, Gabriel ran around the horror, trying his best to reach poor Cassandra. His desperate run was stopped by a gelatinous hand, its talons ripping at his entrails. Despite the burning pain he threw his knife at the lying woman but missed her head by a foot.

Gran'h I G'ruk slapped both wounded men away, turning her attention to the woman trying to dislodge the blade from the wall.

Severely wounded, Gabriel whimpered to Michael, ‘The lights... the gas lights...’ Michael nodded, got up, locked the infirmary door and hit the lights with the bronze weight. His fingers ripped in the jagged copper tubes, but he just moved to the next light as soon as the pipe hissed.

Cassandra had the knife in her hand, trying desperately to open her own throat, while the monster effortlessly kept her in a repulsive embrace.

‘You are mine, Cassandra,’ the monster gurgled, ‘My key to unlocking these hundreds of souls. If you behave, I might even let you live.’

Unable to bring the knife to her, Cassandra pushed it away, yelling savagely as she slashed deep into the monster. Her hand got stuck into the gelatinous flesh, and she started thrashing, trying to free herself.

‘This is not behaving,’ the monster said with a smile, ‘I guess I will have to lock you somewhere while I feast.’

‘You killed my family, demon!’ Cassandra shouted, kicking at the monster, ‘I’ll behave when you are in hell!’

‘I’m an Elemental,’ Gran'h I G'ruk said, ‘The gods themselves could not kill me, mortal.’

The struggling woman saw the two dying men sprawled in the dark on the other side of the room, looking at her. There was one remaining gas light on, just beside her, and she could hear the faint hissing.

When the smell reached her, she smiled, ‘Maybe the gods can’t kill you, but we’ll take a shot at it.’

Gran'h I G'ruk puzzled at the smiling woman, and her world turned white.

‘Ladies and gentlemen…hmm… this is the First Officer speaking. We have investigated the strong sound that startled all of us a few… recently, and there is no reason to panic. I repeat, there is no reason to panic. The noise was caused by… by an accident in the infirmary, that I’m sad to report has caused the death of Captain Briggs and Dr Jones, as well as…of an unidentified woman... the one that was rescued yesterday.

I… hmmm… I will be taking over the duties… the duties of captain temporarily… just until we make the next port of call. If you have any concerns or… hmm… require any further explanations, please do not hesitate to approach one of the crewmembers. Thank you for your attention, over and out, ah cr…’