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Voyage of the RMS Melania

🇵🇭Powfoom
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Synopsis
Murder in the ship caused panic to spread throughout, encompassing the whole ship and its 2,000 passengers, crew. And day by day, the murders increased, brutal mortalities. Will the blood that seeps in the ship's every crevice be stopped? Will she ever even dock? William Foe, a third-class passenger involves himself and others in the determining of who this murderer might be.
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Chapter 1 - I - Boarding RMS Melania

<12:03pm> (Georgetown Dock)

Gorgeous, she was. Her three long orange-colored funnels spraying forth gushes of smoke into the air. The sleek black that the entirety of the hull was painted in, and the countless amounts of already boarded in 1st class passengers looking onward already towards the ocean horizon. It made her look elegant and busy. She was smaller than other cruise liners of the day, however what was not smaller, was the luxury and galore one would get in the first class's floors.

I, however, was not rich enough to buy a first class ticket. However in my whole boring life, I had dreamt to see and experience the other side of the world. England. The destination's rendezvous. The Americans built the RMS much to the favor of the rich elegant folks of the higher class. The lower classes, like I were enticed only because of the endpoint. Europe was, unlike America, much more developed. I had set my heart to go to England, to pursue a job that'd get me leaps and bounds over my fellows here in this country of I. There was simply more there than there was here.

There was a busy pier. Hundreds upon thousands of people were there to come aboard her aft. Trust me, in the thousands I saw, there was only so little that looked by any so means poor. All were middle classed, and to the handsome and elegant looking folks, they were ones who paid the damned teller what looked to be 100,000 bucks! I'd never dream of holding such a crazy lot of money like that in my life. It made me jealous, yet father told me that jealousy's always been the downfall of kings in the past. I do not want to be like those kings.

I walked to the teller, as I was next in line.

"You are of what class... Sir...?" He looked at me with the eyes of a rich man looking down on the poor. As well as the confusion of whether I was a girl or guy.

I'm not one to observe my looks, however, my pale white appearance, a normal build, no muscles really. My clothes were quite dirty however that was because of a fall I had to endure as I ran here not knowing of the pedal that was on the pavement. And who could forget my long blue hair. Even though I was twenty, my Adam's apple was rather small, and my neck was not really reminiscent of a man's.

"Third-class, sir." I answered bluntly.

"Hmm, yes. That'll be thirty dollars, tell me," he snickered. "Do you even have that much money to begin with?"

I had hidden my anger inside, however, looking at his smug face, I wished to punch him for running his mouth. "I do."

I quickly snatched my ticket off from the teller. After handing him, painstakingly, my lonesome 30$. I had prepared myself for the expudenture. But my, was I in tears looking at my money waste away like that.

With a smile, I walked over to the bridge into the Melania, I gave the guy my ticket, he stamped it and gave it back to me. "Welcome to RMS Melania, sir, enjoy your stay."

---

My luggage was much heavy, three suitcases worth of weight, to be exact. Only the rich had their paid henchmen to do their bidding. Carrying their luggage for them whilst they mire with each other in conversation.

I looked at my ticket. My room was at F Deck, which was two decks down the ship's entrance. Passing the royalty of the first class passengers, I made my way down and towards my room. Opening the door, I was suprised. It was rather small, yes, and for a single room of one man, I was delighted with what I have. The bedding was unsuprisingly the same bedding I'd have back at home. Sack and cotton. The room I bought came with a small bedside table too, and also a small lonely stool. The window to the outside was nice, and close to the water, it was as if I was in a submarine of some kind.

I could not say nice however to the weird noises I'd hear. As I was in the F deck more at the stern, the engine roared with all it's might. I wondered if sleepign in the Melania was even a feasible idea! Well, I paid thirty dollars, I should not've complained that much. "You got the good one." Someone part of the crew welcomed me. 

"What?"

"The good one." He smiled at me. "The other rooms in F deck are for four people. By god, they look like damned prison cells those rooms. This is the only one in F deck that differs, offering just a bed."

"Well, isn't that good for me." I went closer to him. "Hello, I'm William, William Foe." 

We shook hands. "I'm Hank Pent. Part'a the crew, you're a guy? You looked more feminine."

"Nice to meet you, and yes, I'm a man. Never cared've my looks, I'd looked like a goblin weren't it that my parents kept me in the dark of the house."

We laughed. 

"You should go on and toward the poop deck, the only view the third classes are offered ere. Since, we're about to depart and all, say, I'll lead you there."

"O-oh, thanks. I'll be up with you, I just need to put some things on." I discarded my vest and up came my good ol' hat. I too put on my suspenders, he just watched me silently. "Lets go?"

"Yes." 

The hallway was quite crowded, as would it be when the passengers were coming inside their rooms. We on the other hand were going against the crowd. We banged heads and shoulders with some people along the way. And right at the stairwell, we saw where the crowd was most busy. There were hundreds going into the deck and a couple tens going out and upward. We were, of course, a part of that ten. We were getting pushed back as we tried pulling ourselves up. Like a raging river we were trying to cross. And the staircase was also rather cramped and small, the people there didn't really 'respect' others, it was just whomever can go forward, goes forward, and whoever gets in the way? Push them back until they aren't in the way anymore.

As we climbed, deck by deck, the amount of people dwindled, and getting up was not so much a hassle any more. We reached the end of our allotted space and went up to another stairwell, leading far up to the poop deck.

There were already alot of people up at the deck, they were at the edges, clinging onto the fence and waving with little towels with their left hands. Waving at, what I thought they were waving at, family members and loved ones. No one really knew me. So what good would I if I were to also wave my hand back and forward. I'd look like an isane person.

"Haven't got any family to say bye to? Not even a friend?" He looked to me.

"N-no, not really." I looked to the edge, sullen.

"Well? Does that matter? Just wave at the crowd! Wave at the journalists by the side! Wave at the sky, wave at the sea. No-one really cares." He picked up my hand and threw it to the air. I'm forced to wave as he too was waving, and was quietly hiding my shyness. I just randomly waved at the crowd. I smiled.

A horn blared!

"Oh!" Hank was immediately alarmed by the horn. "It's time for me to go, goodbye, William."

"Goodbye too." I waved goodbye at the man who was running for the staircase. He bumped at some people along the way.

I looked up at the funnels, spewing more black gas into the air than before. And, looking down at the bottom of the hull, at the waterline, the waves were making way for the ship. And the propellers were whirring awake. The people at the dock were celebrating, saying goodbye. The ship was moving. And move away I was with two thousand people along, move away and up to England.

( * )

I was at my room. Wasting way reading a novel I've been reading for some days now. However, as I was reading, the sheer amount of noise I'd been hearing ever since I opened my door and read this book. Was, in words acceptable, unacceptable. The thick iron walls of this ship was not enough to shield me from the noise of the people down the hallway, next to my room, and a room beyond the one next to my room, and the room beyond three of those rooms. It was like I was in a market, or a bazaar. I heard muffled conversations there and back, and I couldn't even focus on the words I was reading.

Oh? And God forbid, the engine, the propellers? They were of a loudness that even I couldn't have had anticipated. If only I had earplugs, or no ears at all, that I could have enjoyed myself some peace.

I looked at my watch, it was two in the afternoon. The sun made moody light inside my room, and I used her light to read rather than the light bulb above my bed. I liked it that way. But I was interrupted when someone knocked my door. I opened it.

"Hank?" I saw him, he was newly showered and smelled quite nice. "What's new?"

"Nothing's new." He smiled. "It's my break, let's go and grab something to eat."

I walked out to the hallway. "Sure. Where to?"

"You don't know?"

"Know what?" I asked, so much so confused by what he enciuenated.

"The cafetria. Lunch at noon?"

I remembered, my ticket! It had some long wall of text I did not bother to look at longer than a second. But I did infer food.

"Do the workers get something special to eat?" He chuckled lightly.

"W-well, not really. Those first class guys get all the luxury. We guys just eat the same thing as the guys lower class."

"I see." Our eyes met and my eyes meant go.

He took the step forward and soon I followed. The deck was lit up by the industrial lights suited only for prison cells and the most rustic of Russian warships. And though it was day time, I for one could not agree less on that fact whilst we two walked the halls. The very same halls where there were still an abundance of people going in and out. But for all's sake; they too might just be going the same cafeteria Hank had said to me.

"What's for lunch?" I tried making up small talk whilst on the walk.

"I don't know really. Didn't bother to check."

We kept walking.

"What do you do exactly?"

"Nothing much, just a crewman for a ship."

This guy couldn't just extend his thoughts!? I guess I was the only one feeling awkward on the long walk since he just kept walking and evading my questions, which should, if answered the way I want them answered, be long conversations. But he just blurted out single sentences. And sometimes, even just a word! Like; 'yes.' Or, 'no.' Irritating , he is.

We made it to Melania's cafeteria. The abundance of people made it certainly look like a school cafeteria, the boarding school I had enrolled in, in courtesy of my loving aunt. Was one full of students, sleeping there was quite the hassle as I fondly remember little mischievous kids, same age as I, would pull pranks. Telling me this and that about my appearances or that the girls were jealous. But I've pulled out my own self out of such things, and've gotten a knack for it.

There were a line of people awaiting food trays. It was most quaint whilst we waited, and the delightful light that shone from the open window illuminated the whole place. It was our turn. I picked out a stew of some sorts, I think it had meat, but I left it for my tongue to decide what it would be. And some bread. I liked bread, it's been my companion for a long time.

Hank had gotten the same thing as I. Maybe he liked the food I took? Or maybe he just wanted to copy me. Either way, we walked to a semi-vacant table and set our trays down. The stew was hot and from a glance, appetizing from the smell. But it's bland appearance could've had used some work.

"Expecting a five-star dine?" He smirked looking at me.

"No, not really." He smiled back. "What big could one expect in third class even?"

He turned his eyes to the food.

At first bite, the stew had this savoury-like taste, palatable. Yet it left this almost burning aftertaste with the spices. It wasn't meat, I realized, it was chicken! I did not get water, sadly enough I thought it'd be self service. Hank looked at me, looking around for something aimlessly and finding nothing with my two front eyes. He abruptly stood up.

"Water?"

"U-uh yes!" I was overjoyed. "Thank you, kindly."

He walked over to some station of some sort. And a man popped out from nowhere. They talked a bit before he got what he needed. He held a glass of water in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. I saw him hand the man a couple dollars too.

He came back to the table in a light jog. "Red wine, great for any occasion I say."

"Y-yes." He gave me my water, and I drank it in quick succession.

"Thirsty?"

I did not respond.

Before long we finished our meals, it was nice. However, even through my every conversation starter, not one of them made him talk paragraphs. The same 'phrases' kept on the utter. We parted at the staircase, as he said; "I've gotta go to work now, thanks Will, for joining me."

"To you too." He ran off.

There wasn't much of a crowd at that time, and it looked like the sun was nearing dusk. Then a thought occurred in my mind. That I wished to see the night sky. Knowing that I wouldn't be able to see anything at my room. I took the staircase up, towards some crowds, thick and thin, and as I made my way to the final doorway towards the poop deck, there was no-one. And as my hand pushed the door ajar, I saw a beautiful scene. The sky was bright red and orange, and the contrasting black of the ocean was beautiful, like a portrait's frame, capturing the sky and all her beauty. My eyes were mesmerized and could not stop staring at it.

Alone I awaited, for the moon to dawn upon me. It's reflected sun making the dark ocean light.

The seabreeze, I took into. My lungs were full of fresh air unlike that of the streets of New York. It was relaxing, calming. If I could just keep on piling synonyms after synonyms I'd do so. For I could not get used to this peaceful atmosphere, it was just too good, too relaxing.

Then as my mind wandered in it's peaceful space, I opened my eyes looking at the sky; white stars, the bright galaxy. Loud yet silent. Purple streaks and white twinkles. I cried a tear, my eyes fixed on that far out star I will never be able to touch, never be able to smell, never be able to think of again as it will dwell in the monotony of space, forever forgotten, forever living.

"A once in a lifetime moment."