The Snakes of Eden

There was a splash. Then a thud, as Eric Bradley's body was flung back from the railing. His body twitched and jerked, convulsing as a small, snake-like beast slithered and slurped up his gray matter, consuming the very memories and final thoughts of the poor sailor. A cacophony of neurons fired in a symphony of pain and fear, and that was all that was left of poor Eric Bradley. A second later the disgusting creature slammed its coned tail through the dead mans brain stem and his body curled like a dead spider. The corpse shuddered as the strange beast pulsed within it's hollow skull.

The night hung like thick velvet, with dark clouds blotting the stars and a bone rattling chill blowing through the ocean air. Peter's footsteps pounded the deck, echoing off the black water as he ran towards his fallen brother. The corpse lay mostly still, though the head drifted slightly with the movements of the creature. Peter knelt by his brother's head, shocked at the gruesome sight. "Eric," he began, "what the hell did this?" He thought he saw movement behind the eye socket, and as he leaned in to see, the corpse's hand shot up and grabbed a tight clump of Peter's hair before he could jump away. He cried out in confused fear as the corpse brought it's face to his; it's face was slack and emotionless, blood seeping from the hole that was once an eye and the other eye had only the whites showing. Now that Peter was close he saw a bloody black snake coiled within his brother's skull. As he stared in shock and horror, the creature leveled a bloodshot, yellow eye through the hole, and the corpse began to speak slowly in a hollow, breathless rumble. "Hello, vessel. Would you like to meet my brothers?"

The Bradley brothers had done well for themselves since their father passed. All five of them pooled their inheritance and used it to buy a ship, which they then used to ship tobacco to England and bring tea back. If the brothers were honest, they hated the job, and constantly bickered about paying a crew to do it for them. The second oldest brother, Jamie, always resisted. He had always wanted to captain a ship, but he didn't trust a hired crew the way he trusted his brothers. Jamie was the de facto captain, although most decisions were generally made democratically.

Jamie was asleep in the Captain's quarters, dreaming of warmth, home, and all the things he rarely had. He was the only brother who had never married, and only one of two who weren't currently. (John's wife had died six months before the voyage they were on now.) Jamie worried about John ever since then. John's wife was sick before they left for one of their last voyages, and when they returned, she was gone. Jamie had convinced John to come, he had nearly had to beg him to. They were already running a skeleton crew, losing John for even one voyage could be deadly. When John discovered the fate of his wife he was distraught. He screamed at Jamie, blaming him for it and vowing to never work with them again. Jamie didn't blame him, but he couldn't stand to lose him, either; so Jamie went to the pastor and asked him to help him convince John to forgive them. It took a long time, but the pastor pointed out how much Mary had loved John's family, and how guilty she may feel if she knew that she was what drove them apart. Jamie still felt guilty, he knew using Mary against John was less than the Christian thing to do, but he couldn't stand to lose his brother.

Jamie awoke to the sound of a splash; then the thud of something heavy hitting the deck. He sat up quickly as he heard footsteps pounding the deck outside his cabin and put his shoes on. His lantern pierced the starless night as he stepped from his cabin. He wore nothing but his long johns, his shoulder length hair was disheveled and his boots loosely tied. He saw the shadow of Peter just outside his lantern's reach, crouched over someone who lay on the ground with a fistful of his hair. He heard a demonic whisper from the man and stopped in his tracks, with fear pumping through his veins. He watched in silent horror as the body rose, still holding Peter by the head, and dragged him screaming to the rail. Jamie wanted to yell out, and he wanted to run away before he was seen. The tug-of-war happening in his head kept him frozen in place. Peter screamed as he was pressed against the rail, and still Jamie stood. Then there was a splash as something flew from the water; then there was a thud, as Eric dropped Peter's twitching body and turned to look at Jamie.

John's dreams were feverish, haunted nightmares. He stood knee deep in snow, so cold he was certain he was frozen solid. The night sky was black with no clouds, stars, or moon. Behind him, he heard voices, those voices. Deep, breathless voices that spit gravel as they spoke. The dead speak at night, and he'd gotten adept at listening to them. "You've found us, puppet.. our brothers are here, and you'll see your Mary soon after they've done their work. Good job, puppet." The whispers swirled around his ears, quiet as to not spook their prey.

"John!" Mary's voice cracked the night air, whipping John's broken heart to pieces. Tears welled in his eyes. "What have you done, John? Do you know what these foul creatures are, whispering in your ear?"

"Foolish boy," his father's voice boomed all around him, "you promised to keep your brothers safe! Look what you've done!" Hot shame and anger burned John's frozen cheeks and he said, "they are safe! As safe as-"

"No John," Mary's voice was soft and scared, "these creatures parasites meant to destroy mankind!"

"You've failed me, boy, you failed them! Fix this, before you doom the colonies, too."

"No, puppet, the voices deceive you!" The voices hissed, "await on our brothers and you will be free! You will see those you love soon; but if you attempt to stop us, you will be doomed."

Tears flowed in rivers down John's icy cheeks as he screamed, "Mary, I just want to see you again," his voice was agonized sorrow, " I'd do anything to be with you!" He heard Mary quietly sobbing and his father's voice boomed with rage, "You've doomed your family, John! Your brothers die above you, you betrayed them! You betrayed my trust; Mary's too! If you allow these demons to control you, then you've betrayed God himself, boy!" John collapsed, sobbing in the snow.

Paul sat on a bench below deck. His journal sat open and empty in front of him. The lantern hung over the table swung with the sway of the ship. He stared at his journal, dazed and imagining his dear, pregnant wife. Their last conversation still left a pit in his stomach. She was crouched, stirring a pot of mushroom soup over the fire. The home was warm, and the soup smelled just like the soup his grandma used to make. He was sitting at the table and she asked him, "will you tell your brothers that you're done? When you're back, if you're back, our child will nearly be here! I need you home, Paul."

"I know," he said, "I want to be here. You know I hate that ship, my love. You know I'd rather be here, farming or opening my own shop in town. But it's not easy, Emilia! Jamie will never understand, he'll never forgive me, and he may not even be willing to buy me out." Emelia sighed deeply and-

Eric shook Paul from his daze, saying, "I'm gonna get some air, you should come with. It might help you organize your thoughts for that journal." Paul jumped as Eric touched his back and said, "thank you, Eric, but I'll stay here. I've got a lot to think about."

Eric held out his pipe to Paul and said, "come above deck, brother, tell me what's on your mind. I'll share some of my tobacco, I know you're out." Paul sighed, gathering his courage to say, "honestly Eric, I don't want to do this anymore. I want to go home to my wife and stay there."

"We're all tired, brother; Our journey is almost over, the last few days are always like this."

Paul shook his head. "Emilia will give birth soon, Eric. I can't keep leaving her like this.." Paul trailed off, scared of how his brother would react if he told him what he really wanted. "I felt the same when my boy was born, Paul, but it will pass." Paul was aggravated, he didn't understand how Eric didn't get it, "I don't want it to pass, Eric, I want to be there for my family!" Eric's smile turned to a scowl; he spoke in a growl, "we are your family, Paul, and if you want to be here for us then you'll stop saying such foolish things." With that, Eric stomped away. Neither brother knew that the last words said between them would be so venomous.

As Eric stormed up onto the deck he stopped, anger thundering through him as he saw John asleep in a huddle near the helm of the ship. Eric had a habit of taking late night walks on deck, just in case John needed some help. He often did, and ever since he had returned, John had developed the terrifying habit of falling asleep, sometimes even sleepwalking through the night. Eric barely slept at all, he was terrified John would crash the ship or sleepwalk right off the deck. Tonight, though, Eric's rage already thundered through him as he approached his brother, swinging a hard kick into his brother's thigh. John jumped from his dream and yelped in pain. "You'll kill us if you keep sleeping brother. If not us, then yourself when you roll right off the side of the boat!" John stared Flaming daggers at his brother and rubbed his throbbing leg. "Death would bless this cursed ship.." he muttered, still staring at his brother as he walked away. Guilt balled up in his throat as he leaned back to look at the starless night. He thought of his dreams, so cold they made this frigid night seem almost warm; he thought of the fear in his wife's voice, and the anger in his father's. His brothers didn't know what was going on, he didn't know what was going on. He thought he may be going crazy, but he'd do anything to see her again. These thoughts swirled like a whirlpool in his brain as he drifted back to sleep.

He stood again in the dark, snowy wasteland. Mary stood, frail and sickly in front of him; her eyes were red and puffy, shimmering with betrayal, "you're not the man I loved, John. The devil lives in your heart.."

"Don't listen, puppet, she deceives you! This is not your Mary, your Mary loves you!" The creature's whispers curled and licked at his ears like flames. For the first time he saw the beast slither over his shoulder, a snake with many sharp teeth and devilish yellow eyes that seemed to glow in the pitch of night. It's body was slim and scaleless, black with a coned tail and pointed snout. John tried to scream and found he could make no noise as Mary's crying form disappeared in the night, replaced by hundreds of these foul beasts. He tried and tried to scream, but no noise left his lips. They covered him, suffocated him and he heard a scream that wasn't his own.

He awoke to his brother's screams, cut short by a splash. He huddled on deck, curled into a ball while he gasped for breath. What have I done? His eyes were closed; footsteps rapidly approached him. He curled tighter, locking his eyes like a vault. Jamie grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and yelled, "John, something happened to Eric and Peter!" He shook poor, broken John by the shoulders, "The devil's infected them! You've got to get up!" Footsteps thundered from the other direction and Paul yelled, " Jamie, wha-" he stopped. Shambling up behind Jamie were Eric and Peter, no more than shadows on the velvet sky with one glowing yellow eye. He stared in confusion, he didn't know the horrors John caused, the terror Jamie felt. "What's happening, Jamie? John?"

Jamie looked behind him, then looked at Paul with wild eyes and ran without responding. Eric and Peter closed in, and though their evil voices were only whispers, all living men heard their words, "you cannot run, dear vessels. Our brothers hunger, and you have a true delicacy behind your eyes. Come, morsels, it will be quick." Jamie untarped the dinghy hanging on the side of the boat, and began to crank it down. Paul stumbled back in fear while John sat tight, the lord's prayer on his lips. Nightmarish laughter crackled from the back of Eric's dead throat and as he passed John, he placed a cold, bloody hand on his head and said, "thank you, puppet. Rise, so you may see your love again." John raised his head slowly, his lips trembling feebly over his prayer. His teary eyes briefly met the yellow eyed beast behind the skull, and then snapped back down as the last string of his sanity snapped. His prayers stopped and his eyes closed. Mary wasn't with him.

The dinghy was halfway down before Peter grabbed Jamie. He thrashed and kicked, screaming to his brothers for help. Paul ran and tackled Peter, bringing all three of them to the ground. Jamie wrenched himself free and rolled to his feet while Peter wrestled with Paul. Peter pushed Paul to the side and fought his way on top of him, pinning one arm with his knee. For the first time, Paul got a good look at his brother's face. His left eye was rolled back, a slightly yellowed white with red tracks running through it. The muscles and skin on his face drooped, and his right eyelid was torn with that terrible devil's eye staring coldly at him. Blood dripped onto Paul's face from the torn eye. He stared at his brother in horror as his emotionless face looked back at him. "Feel fear," it hissed, "fear is sweet and juicy. Your fear will taste euphoric, vessel." Paul could only whimper, "my wife.. My child.. Peter.. Think of my wife.."

Jamie stood at the edge of the rail, frozen again. He should help, he knew that. Paul saved his life, and he knew he should; they might be able to beat them together. He looked at John, who had again raised his face towards Eric. He looked at Paul, who was struggling against Peter, but clearly losing. A deep, fiery pit of shame engulfed his stomach, fear filled his brain with what-ifs. His mind swirled with wordless thoughts and he jumped toward the dinghy. He landed with a thud, the dinghy swaying and creaking under his weight. Terror filled him as he fumbled around the small boat, looking for the knife he kept under the bench. He heard the water lapping at the ship below as he began to cut at the ropes holding the dinghy, looking up, hoping he wouldn't see one of his brother's dead faces gaze down on him.

The creature brought it's fist down violently upon Paul's nose until blood poured from the broken mess, spilling over Paul's face and into his eyes. It lifted the dazed man up and drug him the rest of the way to the railing. Paul struggled limply, his body in pain, blinded by his own bloody nose, and his mind unable to process the horrors of the night. John looked at the corpse dragging his brother toward the rail, and stood as though to stop it. Eric grabbed him by his shoulder and hissed, "do not break our deal now, puppet." Peter got very close to the rail before John shrugged the dead hand off his shoulder and ran at him. He lunged at Peter, and tackled him over the railing. John hugged Peter tightly as they fell and said his last, hopeful prayer. Then, there was a splash.

There were a lot of splashes, as John flailed and slapped the water and Peter pulled him down and down until his head was submerged and he finally relaxed, imagining that Mary was very happy with his attempts to fix everything. There was a quick, sharp pain in his eye; then empty, quiet peace as the water tinted red and his body floated to the surface.

Jamie forgot himself as he leaned over the dinghy to see if his brother survived. The rope snapped and cracked like a whip; the dinghy flipped through the air and he fell back, reaching out to grab anything that would keep him on the boat, but his hand couldn't find purchase. He plunged down and froze, frigid in the winter water. Shame and fear burned Jamie Bradley as he sank into the frigid abyss. Lightning struck through his eye, and another creature grew fat on his cowardice.

Paul still lay on the deck of the ship, all but finished. Eric grabbed him, dragging him by the collar. He looked at the sky with bleary eyes, and then he was turned and bent over the rail. With no fight left, Paul gazed into the black water, at least this horror was over. Peace washed over him.

There was a splash.