Click the title ^^ to reveal the tale.
I think we’re ready for it. I’m sure we are. It’s for certain. I need to notify Ross, who hasn’t been out this way for awhile.
It’s Round Robin, Round Three. If you want to marvel at all the cool writers who haunt RtB, you can have a gander at Round Robins I and II.
Rules of the Game
- Only add a few sentences at a time — but you can add on to the story as many different times as you like.
- Don’t hit “Reply” under someone else’s comment. Rather, just start a new comment altogether. That way, the story will read down the page, and we won’t nest ourselves into a 1-centimeter-wide column.
- The Fink gets the last line of the story. Because Kody will simply write, “Everyone died. The End.”
Ready, steady. go. I’ll start.
It was a dark and stormy night…
And there was a fungus amongus
Or a lack thereof. The man stood on the dock peering into the gloom. It was a half an hour past now since the boat should have docked…since whatever was in “box number 3” in the cargo hold should have been safely in his possession. But the “Fungus Amongus”…an older rickety craft, was no where to be seen.
On the black, expansive sea, the first mate of the Fungus knocked on the captain’s cabin door. “Sir, a word?” he asked. “Enter,” spoke the captain.
“Sir, there are disturbing reports from the men below. It seems there is a box in the hold, and it’s glowing. Glowing red.”
Captain Marts scratched her head. She had been responsible for many boxes in her days, green boxes, oblong boxes, even a few explosive boxes, but never a glowing box. So she did what any good captain does in times of great strife.
“First Mate Swanson, please go and investigate,” She said. Swanson started to leave when Captain Marts said, “Wait, there’s something important I need you to tell Cookie for me on your way.”
Captain Kay Marts was a seasoned old salt. At 53, she had been in command for more than 25 years, and her reputation for integrity and seamanship was well-earned. But she had a dark side, and it was this side that kept her crew respectful and fiercely loyal. New sailors who signed on to her ship learned quickly that she was no trifling force; most stayed, and the few who left did so in a coffin.
Those unfortunate souls who dared insult Kay Marts were soon met with a terrible demise. An impending feeling of doom consistently loomed heavy on the hearts of the men, each wondering if they would be the next victim of Captain Kay Marts; a woman most feared.
As Swanson left the captains cabin, determined to reveal the secrets of the glowing red box, a terrible realization stuck him, “I called her Sir!” he screeched as he strode toward the hold. “A death sentence I’m sure! Perhaps this glowing box holds my unpleasant fate!?”
Swanson, deep in his thoughts about calling Kay Marts sir he almost forgot that he had to go see Cookie and give him a message.
Cookie was sitting alone on a barrel in the hall humming a low sailors tune and eating crackers. He saw Swanson walk through at the end and noticed right away the twitching left pinky…they had played poker before and the pinky was his tell…Swanson was about to lie to him. “Hey, Captain says you better go down below and check out that box…I’ll cover the radio.” Cookie didn’t answer and they spent a few seconds looking at each other. “Fine.” He would check the box himself…curiosity about its contents weighed heavier with him than Swansons white lies…the adventure of it. He walked off towards the lower decks
Cookie, named for the crumbs that littered his pocket, went walking towards the large glowing box. He touched the side and let out a screech of pain. It was freezing cold. He took a crowbar from the big box of crowbars that they were shipping and wedged it open.
Cookie has two wives, neither of them know about the other. and lived on opposite sides of the earth. Both of them let out a gasp at the same time and called each other by accident. Cookie’s oldest son fell down the stairs. His mother won the lottery. His cat barked. As for Cookie himself, no one know what happened to him. When Swanson came downstairs to check on him, he just saw a glowing box, undisturbed.
… and a glowing crowbar beside it. Swanson was shaken but found his curiosity piqued. He crouched slowly, hesitating before picking it up. He fell to the floor as his vision blurred and a voice that was not his filled his head.
“Stop the Captain….”
The Fungus never arrived at port. The man who waited walked the shoreline most of the night, absentmindedly fumbling with the skeleton key in his pocket that glowed red when handled.
On the other side of the world, a ship’s crew lies silent at the bottom of the sea, surrounded by dozens of crow bars. In a small, humid, dirty tavern somewhere in the West Indies, a woman sits at a table in the corner, cradling a small steam trunk in her lap, eyes darting about behind dark glasses.
The regulars at the bar don’t bother her. In fact, all cut a large swath around her; the frightening stranger with a box that won’t open despite hundreds of attempts, ignoring the “DO NOT OPEN EXCEPT BY KEY” sign. She of the blood-encrusted fingers. She of the increasing madness. She of the glowing red eyes.
THE END