Writing Prompt: Werewolf on a Cruise Ship

in Writing Prompts

You were bitten by a werewolf a year ago. You have just gotten used to having to lock yourself up every full moon. You are on vacation with your family. Your cruise ship has gone from Nassau to Coco Kay, but on its way to Key West you have had engine trouble. Everything on the ship in fine, but the unthinkable has happened, the cruise will last 3 extra days.

You are stuck in the middle of the ocean with your wife, daughter and 3000 people. Some are a bit grumpy about the delay, but most are very happy that they are getting extra vacation time and a full refund.

The cruise ship has had a party on the deck every night you have been at sea. You have nowhere to go and no place to hide. The buffets this morning are full. Everything that you could possibly want, but you are just sick thinking of rampaging through the ship, unstoppable, killing everyone in your path including your wife and child.

Last night while your wife and daughter were sleeping, you searched the ship. You looked everywhere for a place to lock yourself up. You found a couple closets that might work, but the doors do not look strong enough.

When you first transformed you didn’t believe you would change. The morning after the first full moon you work up in the woods beside the body of a man you had been eating. The news said that a wild animal hand attacked the city, rampaged through the streets, killed 10 people, and was now being tracked in the wood where you woke up, naked and completely sick to your stomach.

On the ship, through the narrow corridors, on the decks there will be no escape for the passengers. The door to the cabins are not thick enough to keep you locked out or in. You could easily rip your way out.

You sit at the table with your wife and child. They are eating breakfast. You have explained to your wife you do not feel well, but at this moment, the captain comes up to you and says you have been chosen to be the guest of honor at tonight’s party. You will get to sit in a chair above everybody on the deck. You will get to go into the Bridge with the captain. It is an honor, won by lottery, and today is your lucky day.

You are sitting looking up at the captain, dressed in white. You look up to him and start to speak. You know tonight is the full moon. What are you going to do?

If you want to write a 500 word story, inspired by this prompt in the comments below, we will consider it for publication.

Richard Edwards has a BFA in Creative Writing and Journalism from Bowling Green State University and an M.S. in Education from the University of Akron. Managing editor of Drunk Duck, poetry editor for Prairie Margins, reporter for Miscellany, Akron Journal, Lorain Journal...check our About Us page for more. Also here is info on our On Classic Articles

1 Comment

    by Kit Steward

    McQuaid reluctantly accepted the Captain’s offer, understanding that if he was to imply an illness, he ran the risk of quarantine. His heart sank, and his stomach swirled all the more. The Captain had the crewman stay behind to relay the details while he ambled off to survey the other passengers’ morale. The droning crew member became a distant buzz as McQuaid ran dozens of scenarios through his mind.

    The bottom line was dripping red, all options ended poorly for the 3,000 bodies on board.

    After breakfast he ensured his wife and daughter were well occupied with onboard events, then he went off and made his way through the vessel for a desperate once over.

    “How damn it? There’s gotta be some way…” His thoughts trailed off.

    Dejected, he plopped down on a reclined deck chair and stared for hours at the moving sea. After a while something dark and inviting began to whisper from within, he shuddered.

    Suddenly his tract of thought veered; spying a fishing vessel way off starboard; he took a gamble. He grabbed the navy blue blanket from the wooden chair and swiped a life preserver; he quickly leapt over rails into the blue-green water. Hoping his absence wouldn’t immediately be noticed, he used the blanket for camouflage from ship-bound eyes. McQuaid knew the risks, he’d either make it to the fishing boat before nightfall (maybe two more victims would pay the price for being good Samaritans, a better number versus the hundreds of passengers he’d quickly dispatch on the cruise.) or he would drown.

    Kicking and paddling towards the tiny boat he was somewhat consoled, the cruise liner’s insurance policy would pay off nicely for his family. A scenario he found more appealing with each arm stroke.

    The luxury ship chugged off into the sunset, long out of view; the fishing trawler approached closer and closer by the meter. Screaming frantically for help, waving, he was confident he’d be spotted. But the oblivious boat banked, cutting slowly northwest; further away from the man and onward to a distant port.

    Flailing, splashing and yelling, to no avail, McQuaid eventually stopped; his buoyant eyes narrowed in the dusky silence. Alone, in the middle of the Caribbean at nightfall, the man was resigned to the conclusion of his story.

    “At least there’s an end to the bloodshed,” he paused.

    The triumph was short-lived, as twin dorsal fins appeared off in the distant blue, riding through the low swells; he knew they’d picked up on his scent, the beasts were circling him, tiger sharks from the looks of it. He almost laughed.

    For a moment he’d wondered if a werewolf had ever done battle with a shark before, heck, if it were even possible for that matter?

    The moonrise seemed almost a lifetime away. A small part of him didn’t want that curiosity resolved; while something else was prodded inside of him and as it grew, he nearly foamed at the mouth with a hunger, dying to find out.

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