Passengers screamed as the vessel tilted violently to the left. Pools of water splashed over the deck, soaking everything in their path.
In the casino, chips and cards flew into the air, and the once gleeful gamblers now stumbled over each other in a desperate bid to stand upright. Panic spread like wildfire.
Someone yelled, "The ship is listing!" despite it being obvious. The starboard side of the ship had dipped perilously close to the waterline.
The crew, fully aware of the gravity of the situation, ushered passengers below deck into designated safety zones. But nothing could be done, that much was obvious to Quentin.
The sheer magnitude of the disaster gripped the passengers in paralysing fear.
Inside the ship, people clung desperately to whatever they could find—railings, furniture, even each other.
In the hallways, chaos reigned. Screams filled the air as luggage, chairs, and broken glass skittered across the floors, creating hazards at every turn. The artificial calm of luxury was shattered.
In one of the lounges, a mother clutched her two children tightly, trying to reassure them as the ship continued to lurch beneath their feet. The lights flickered again, this time staying off for a terrifying few seconds. The ship's alarms blared, bathing the kids' faces in the eerie red glow of emergency lights.
The situation beneath the deck was even more dire. People waded through ankle-deep water that was rising by the minute, sloshing against their calves now as they frantically searched for an exit.
Quentin said a quiet prayer in his heart for Andrew because he figured being down there wasn't the best of options.
Some slipped in the fast-moving water, calling for help, their voices echoing through the metal corridors. Steam hissed from ruptured pipes, adding to the sense of claustrophobic dread.
A father carrying his young daughter on his shoulders pushed through the crowd, his eyes wild, darting between exit signs that led nowhere.
On the ship's elegant grand staircase, once the centrepiece of opulence, the scene devolved into pure anarchy.
People rushed up the stairs in a frantic mass, pushing and shoving, clawing to get to higher ground. A woman in heels tripped, and in seconds, the panicked crowd surged over her, too frantic to stop. She screamed for help, but her voice was drowned out by the stampede of people.
Above, a chandelier swung dangerously, glass shards raining down with each violent jolt of the ship.
The lifeboats that were still intact were few and far between, and getting into one was like a fight for survival. One man, barely able to keep his footing, tried to help his elderly mother into a lifeboat, but a rogue shove knocked him off balance, and he was swept overboard into the sea.
His mother's wailing was audible over the cacophony of passengers.
Finally, Quentin returned to Deck 1, yelling loudly for the strange girl he had encountered earlier.
There clinging to the legs of a piano was the fat man he thought was her father.
He looked pathetic now that his money was of no use.
Quentin rushed to his side and tried helping him up, but the fat man winced in pain. His ankle was twisted in a painful way.
"Stand up; this is no place to die," he said to the man.
"I can't," the man cried, gritting his teeth in pain.
"I'll help you. Where's Rose? Did you see where she went?"
"I don't know. I must have lost her in the commotions. Why are you still concerned about that freak? If anything, she's responsible for the terrible luck that has befallen us."
Quentin looked him in the eye and threw his arms off him like a piece of stale bread. The man stumbled back to the ground, tears streaming down from his eye.
"Why then am I worrying for you?"
Quentin abandoned him, disregarding his pleas for assistance and assurances of wealth beyond his imagination.
The ship's hull groaned, the sound of metal under duress cutting through the howling wind.
The crystal chandeliers in the grand ballroom swung like pendulums, shattering as they hit the ceiling.
People slid across the polished floors, colliding with overturned tables and chairs.
Outside, lifeboats were lowered, but the violent movements of the ship made them nearly impossible to board.
The lifeboats swung wildly, crashing against the ship, leaving some who tried to climb aboard stranded or thrown into the sea.
The weaker ones being tossed aside by the ones blessed with strength.
Below deck, water was growing with frightening speed. Crew members yelled for people to grab life vests and move back towards the upper decks, but the corridors were quickly becoming a maze of flooded passages.
Some passengers slipped and fell in the rising water, desperately trying to keep their heads above the surface.
As the ship continued to sink, Quentin realised the undeniable reality that Rose had told him: the majestic ship was capsizing.
A voice came through the intercom once more, his voice breaking as he issued the dreaded call.
"All passengers, evacuate immediately. Abandon ship."
Crowds surged towards the few remaining lifeboats, desperate to escape the ship that was now tilting at a dangerous angle.
Quentin was pushing through hordes of panicked people, tripping over some and stepping on others.
He was determined to find Rose.
He rushed to a section of the ship where crowds of people were struggling aimlessly to get onto a lifeboat that was obviously overfilled.
A child held onto her teddy as she cried and shrieked.
As the lifeboat descended into the water, Quentin instinctively grabbed the young girl and threw her into the lifeboat.
A couple of people saw what had happened and decided that was the best thing to do.
Lurching themselves over the railings, they landed...
One individual struck his head on the edge of the lifeboat, while the others fell directly onto the passengers, who were grateful for their escape from the sinking ship.
The lifeboat capsized under the weight of its new additions, spilling its contents into the icy waters.
Quentin winced at the sight of the little girl thrashing around in the sea. He cursed at the captain and instinctively knew the cowardly Major had been onboard with him too.
As the ship tilted further to its ends, the hull began to rise from the water. The sound of rushing water was deafening as it filled every available space below deck.
On the tilted promenade, a family clung to the railings, their eyes wide with terror. The ship was nearly horizontal now, with the bow beginning to dip below the surface.
People were slipping and falling into the dark, churning sea, their screams swallowed by the icy waters.
The sky was black, and Quentin was tired.
He found a suitable grip on the stern of the ship, which was the highest point, and held fast, his mind wandering back to the moments with Rose and how she knew about the disaster before it struck.
With a final groan, the ship split into two, its lower part sinking and electricity cackling in mockery of the doomed souls.
Quentin plunged into the water, going down with the vessel. The icy waters were digging into his skin like thorns from a flower.
'What happens when you die? Heaven? I think I'd go to heaven. I tried saving that kid; that has got to count for something, right?'
His body went limp as the cold took control. The muscles of his body were unwilling to move and fight against the freezing water.
'This is how it ends. The tale of Quentin Thorntrope. A rather climatic end, if I do say so myself.'