Shattered Sanity

Written by the crew of the Sunken Cephalopod for their 2022 October/halloween event

CONTENT WARNING: GORE, BODY HORROR, CREEPY CRAWLIES SUCH AS BUGS AND RATS, MENTAL ANGUISH, DISEASE, AND GENERALLY A LOT OF MESSED UP HORROR CRAP

* * *

The beginning of the event - Luxor The night was calm, small waves gently rocking the ship as it laid in port once more. They had just returned from Havana and were catching some well earned rest.

Not all was as calm as it seemed though, as the clock truck midnight, the emerald embedded in the figurehead cracked. A pulse of red energy rocked the ship as it changed to a more fitting vibe. The sails were shredded, riddled with holes. The bowsprit snapped, the tip plunging into the water. Holes appeared along the hull, the cold October wind whistling though the hold.

It appeared that it had the same effect on the crew, turning them into monsters. Ranging from werewolves to ogres and all in between. Who knows what will happen to our dear friends onboard the Sunken Cephalopod?

* * *

Verlria It all started with a crack, a distinct sound like shells splitting open and scattering their fragments across the sea sand.

With a gasp, Verlria’s eyelids snapped open as she woke up from a dark dream of nothingness. At first, she wasn’t sure what woke her up, for she could not recall any stressing details in her dream that could arouse such a striking reaction out of her. The ship was calm, if not a little chilly from the newly formed holes in the hull that she had yet to recognize, and no loud noises were heard from within or without the wooden vessel. All seemed well in that brief moment of blurriness, lingering sleepiness muting her senses for a solid minute.

Then came the splitting headache. A slight throb at first that swiftly intensified into a pounding migraine.

With a hiss of pain, the sharkfolk raised a hand to the right side of her head where the ache was the worst. She squeezed her blue eyes shut, confused and distressed to find that the headache had no intentions of abating after a few minutes, and her fingers subconsciously curled as her entire body tensed to combat this awful agony. As her fingers brushed against her conch shell horn, the spiky smoothness that she had come to expect from its usual texture was there— except this time, she felt a split right at the base of the horn, where pale blond locks met a light blue shell.

Having sat up in her bed on the Ceph, she instantly froze on the spot once she sensed the crack. With wide irises blinking open once more, shock turned to horror as she used her hand to feel along the length of her once intact horn. A more thorough inspection revealed that the crack she had sensed ran along the entire length of her right horn, with smaller cracks splitting off from the main ravine and carving random paths like streaks of lightning along the striped shell. She even felt a few minuscule fragments from the conch brush against her cheek as they, dislodged from the cracks, fell into oblivion while the midnight murk muddled her vision.

At once, the shark’s thoughts ran wild. Wh-What?! But, how could—?! What just— What could’ve possibly cracked one of my horns in my sleep?! Verlria would have known if one of her horns was damaged before she drifted off, so it was no act of folly to assume that something had come to fracture her spiky horn in the night. Yet, it’s not as if some blunt object could have struck her from above: Nothing with the power to do so lay above her bed, and while such a conclusion would explain the intense pain, she surely would have caught a culprit or a weapon with how quickly she was yanked out of her sleep. Some other source had to be the cause… Magic? Curses? Spirits?

Verlria couldn’t even begin to resolve her bewilderment, for her migraine was simply too severe to allow any sensible thoughts to linger for long. It was as if she was stuck in the bottom of the ocean, pounds of pressure rocking her very being as the acute ache radiated from her horns and all throughout her skull. It wasn’t long before she had her jaw clenched to stall her whimpers, and her eyes would yet again flutter closed while she did her best to bear the brunt of this tremendous torment. She would have to figure all this out later, when the headache receded. If it receded. It was all she could do to hope that things would turn out well in the end, oblivious to the fact that this was a very rough start to an ominous transformation.

So, tossing her pillow over her head, Verlria did her best to fall back asleep, where the tortuous migraine wouldn’t follow her in the soothing numbness of dreams. Yet, it was wishful thinking on her part to assume this endeavor was possible at all: She would end up tossing and turning all night long until the sun rose upon a new Ceph. The Spooky Cephalopod, you could say.

* * *

Jane Barnaby A deafening crack woke Flitter up seconds before a powerful pulse of magic knocked it out of the rigging and onto the deck. The large fruit bat tried to crawl back up and gather its bearings, looking around the dark with wide, star-filled eyes. All around it, the magic was at work, corrupting and haunting the ship wherever the red mist touched. The wood groaned and creaked in inhuman protest. What in the stars' name was going on?

Then tendrils of mist reached out towards the bat. It scrambled back and away from them, but they were fast and with many. Flitter hissed as the red substance surrounded it and wrapped around his wings, effectively pinning him in place. No matter how much it thrashed or tried to escape, it wouldn't budge. In fact, it steadily gained ground.

Cursed arcane energy crackled between it and the mist, sparking crimson. Wherever it touched, Flitter could feel it burning him, changing him-- transforming him. Ligaments tore and snapped, bones broke and rearranged, its fur changed to sleek black hide. A tail sprouted at the end of its spine and grew into a pointed tip, thrashing around until it was trapped in place too. Its entire body rearranged in moments that felt like eternity in the agony.

When it was done, Flitter lay on the deck, panting from the pain and exertion. Its heart - no, hearts, he felt at least two - raced like he'd just flown at full speed for ten minutes. When it looked towards its body, it found a dark-coloured horror straight from nightmares, some sort of gargoyle with elongated talons and claws.

With a shudder, the creature passed out, distantly praying it was but a nightmare.

* * *

Lux Lux woke up from the red pulse, sitting up and looking around in the dark, he could feel something was off.

He got up and walked over to the candle he always kept near, lighting it just in time to reveal the flood of bugs fleeing from the red mist. The floor was filled with a carpet of legs and bodies. As soon as the candle was lit the bugs panicked, running into Luxors clothing trying to hide in the shade. Soon there was no space left in his clothing, and the bugs started forcing their way into his mouth, nose and ears.

Luxor collapsed to the ground, fire coursing through his veins, coughing up blood and bugs as slowly began choking.

Was this the end? Would his legacy end by choking on bugs? How sad...

He blacked out, mind in a state of panic. Overwhelmed by pain and the sensation of the bugs crawling under his skin.

* * *

Stonks Stonks was off the ship when the gem cracked, on watch. His company was a single vampire, one of the many mindless crew that had populated the galleon when it was still around. But now, Stonks was part of the Ceph, and despite the distance between him and his ship, the curse affected him nevertheless.

It started with an odd but simple sensation, a stomach ache. It was faint, but it made Stonks delay his step just a little. He put it up to a sharp rib he must've swallowed, continuing. But just a few moment later, it worsened, until eventually he collapsed on the ground, clutching his stomach.

The vampire leaned down to help him to his feet, and Stonks lifted his gaze to look at the undead. They possessed a look of pure confusion, tilting their head for a moment, undead weren't supposed to do this! The barely there mind of the blood sucker barely had time to think about what might have happened before Stonks coughed up a large and worrying amount of blood, the black substance staining the vampires face. The disgusting smell and taste caused the vampire to react with almost pain, and quickly, Stonks ran away, clutching his stomach without realizing it had begun to pulsate just a little.

* * *

Grey Elizabeth had been sitting at her desk, working on reports. The low candlelight illuminating the piles of diagrams and observations which littered her desk. The sudden pulse of red startled her into looking up, checking around her room. By this time she’d learned not to be too concerned about magical ongoings, and quickly snapped her attention back to her work.

But it was only a few seconds before she became aware of a sharp, burning agony in her spine. No stranger to such pains, Elizabeth braced herself and forced her hands to continue writing. A drop of black ink fell onto the page. Then another. Was her quill broken? By now the pain was getting worse, too. Admitting defeat and deciding to pause, Elizabeth put her quill back and hobbled to her bed to lie down.

The moment her head tilted back, though, her blood ran cold. The suffocating feeling of something running into her lungs, a steady trickle of some odd fluid. Elizabeth shot upright, biting her tongue to stop herself crying out.

By now everything burned, a hellish stabbing sensation attacking every bone, joint and muscle. She leaned over the side of her bed, frail frame heaving in a violent coughing fit. Dark ink-like liquid splattered onto the floor, but the suffocation didn’t stop. She coughed until she couldn’t breathe, sucking helpless breaths into her fluid-filled lungs. With every breath she felt more and more like the negative pressure would make her ribs cave. Her vision started to blur, the same inky fluid dripping from her eyes. Elizabeth collapsed into a heap on the floor, her head tilted forward as she watched the collecting pool at her hands.

Her hands… even beneath the bandages she could see the skin blister with necrosis, which progressed far more rapidly than she’d ever seen before. Towards her extremities it began to melt off, tearing off her bones and dropping onto the floor of her room.

* * *

Rippley Mericlén was awoken by a sharp and abrupt pain in her mouth. She sat up, with a groan.

As she looked about the room, she noticed that the darkness around her got significantly more clear to see in with the more time that passed. Her irises shone a blood red.

She rubbed her temples, staring a hole in the wall infront of her. Her gums only began to get more and more painful, she breathed deeply, opening her mouth. In the dim moonlight, she looked as if she was changing into something... else. When the pain reached an apex, a pair of sharp fangs peirced through the flesh of her gums.

She discovered a new desire that was stronger than anything she'd ever felt before. The incessant need for blood.

Roksana and Linus both changed into creatures. Linus was moved jnto a large bear, something beyond frightful, he was twice his size and foaming at the mouth. Roksana was a swan with dirty feathers, and wild eyes.

Aoki was turned into a candle, flickering ever so brightly on the deck.

* * *

Tonia The fever ravaged through Tonia, sweat dripping from every pore in her body. Leaving beneath her a rather large puddle which soaking into her bed sheets.

Yet something was strange.

Had her sweat always smelt so bitter? Has it always looked so dark? Little did Antonia know, her skin was turning to liquid, and blending into the sweat as it pored out of her

She groaned out in pain, slowly it turned into blood curdling screams. As her raw skin was left over, staying in contact with the cloth which stuck onto the raw skin.

All through the night, she panted as all the flesh and meat turned into jello. Until nothing but bone was left. Then began the transformation.

Cracking, snapping, contorting, until she was nothing like her past appearance. Skin like leather, colored in a gray purple tinge. Hair thin, yet wild. Hair roots were black yet grew into the palest blue. It spiked up at the end, yet her eyes were the most disturbing part. She was blind. Everything was nothing but blind noise. Even the slightest breath felt like someone breathing inside of her ear. The pain snapped her awake. Standing right up in her bed and half losing her mind.

She fell out of bed, pawing at the ground as her sense exploded. Antonia felt her mind crumbling, all that was left was fear. Which came out as madness. And anger.

* * *

Everett Everett awoke with a dull ringing in his head, and pains all over his back. In an effort to reach any- any form of painkillers, he good-as flung himself of his bunk. Old wounds ached tremendously and he gasped as he clawed at his back, two, tattered, hole-ridden wings erupted from his back, sinew and viscous black liquids dripping like oil and tar, drawing out a silent scream. The wings of midnight trailed on the floor as obsidian feathers glinted dangerously under candlelight.

His face crumbled into nothingness as the clay cracked and shattered, leaving the grey rings upon rings within, that slowly receded backwards into his skull. He grabbed onto where his face had been, drawing little lines in his face, as a potter would with marks in clay, with newfound black-tipped talons and fingers.

Swaying uneasily as he brought himself to his feet, he flexed his feet, golden talons wickedly sharp, already making a mark on the teak deck. His chest shuddering up and down in a feeble imitation of phantom breaths.

Everett could hear them. The laughter in the wind, sneers in the darkness, danger and malevolence leaking out from every closed flower bud, those that danced round and round in circles as mortals lost their feet, and dropped to the ground in exhaustion. The jeers and goading pullulated until he simply could not differentiate himself from the madness, the sheer noise drowning him, submerging him, hypnotising him. Yet, though his sanity flailed in the depths of dark desire, he almost felt it quotidian.

He took a moment to soak it all in, as a strange, humming of magic suffused through his veins. Fighting back against this tidal wave of new instincts was syphilitic at best.

Though Everett had once promised so avowedly to heal, to aid, to not unnecessarily cause harm to humanity - well. Well, a little part of him was beginning to understand his unseelie brethren. A little part of him wished to leave the milieu of honeyed falsehoods this so-called sentient species constructed.

He could not leave, he could not make them suffer in any way that mattered, he could not shirk his duties out of promise and honour.

But he would offer no charity. All relationships were a glorified version of equal exchange, and there was much on his end ripe for the taking.

And of the flock? Ravens and crows have always been death omens, and the feathery friends simply turned their gaze away from playful mischief, to return to the sides of the cadaverous reapers, following every swing of the scythe and feasting on unadulterated agony.

The haunting echoes of a mourning dove weeped not for life lost, but transformed into the cold, eerie booms of the death knell.

* * *

Alex The flame of a candle threw abstract shadows across the room as Alex worked deep into the night. Her gloves, blood-red colour amplified by the light, shook a little as she built. It took her a second to realise it wasn't her hands shaking - it was the ship. If she hadn't been awake before, she certainly was now. A deafening crack, and she was on her feet. The sound of metal on metal filled the room as the weaponry shuddered dangerously. She ignored the red energy that pulsed through the room, and payed no attention to the sudden drop in temperature. Her gaze was fixed on the candle, teetering on the edge of her desk. As she reached out to grab it, the candle finally reached its point of no return, and fell silently to the floor. There was a moment where time seemed to stop, as if the universe itself was laughing at her. A mound of parchment, in a careless pile on the rug, and the candle tumbling towards it. Alex, diving desperately, hand outstretched as the flames begin to rise.

Everything came crashing back to earth at once. The flames spread instantly, engulfing her work in its fiery embrace, just in time for her to land directly on top. She jumped up instinctually, but she may as well have accepted her fate. The rug was alight with the same glow that had been comforting just minutes before, and Alex soon followed suit. It caught at her boot and quickly rose, dragging her to the floor. She didn't remember screaming, but surely she must have. Her breaths shortened, throat closing up as the flames overran her. Vision blurring and delirious, the last thing she caught sight of was her body melting into the flames.

* * *

Jack Solaire Something's not right. Ori could tell as soon as he woke up in the middle of the night with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, a deep unsettling feeling that simply wouldn't go away. He threw on a shirt, not bothering to put on a vest, tucked his pistol into his waistband, and headed above decks for some fresh air. Instead of making things better, as he had hoped, his condition only got worse from there. Making it up the stairs was a struggle, standing up became a chore. He stumbled over to the railing, which seemed oddly corroded for such a well-maintained ship, and violently heaved his guts over the side of the ship. Once the last bits of whatever remained in his stomach had been forcefully evicted, he slumped down, shaking in the cool evening air.

Inside the navigator, perhaps even within the confines of what one might call a soul, two curses battle for dominance. The challenger, an ominous red aura, faces off against a stable bluish defender. The corruption tries to take him, but this body ain't big enough for the two of us, partner. For now, the previous curse takes precedence, but who is to say what would happen to young Ori if his defender were to be weakened? The Ceph curse may not have won today, but it certainly won't be gone for long.

* * *

Stonks It was poker night, it was always poker night with the 4 of them. Marshall, Simon, Sheldon and Rawson all played with each other, and for once, none of them were letting anything slip. Rawson was surprised and proud, and he just got through saying the world “fold” before the surge of energy happened. Simon stood up first, surprised, while the others were too shocked to stand. “Stay here.” He said, trying not to show his panic to the younger Marshall. “I’ll see what be up with th’ ship.”

Rawson, however, had already stood up and ignored Simon, pulling the door to open it. The pyromaniac sighed, and tried to shove him out of the way, to which he did with surprisingly little effort. Right as Simon reached for the doorknob, Rawson spoke. “It’s locked.” He said, his usually educated tone of voice replaced with one of fear. Simon tugged, and sure enough, it was impossible to open.

In the background, Sheldon tried to comfort the pale and scared Marshall by patting on the back, before the scared boy commented on a somewhat unnoticed part of their situation. “I-It’s hot.” Sheldon paused for a moment, and true to the others words, it did seem warmer then it had moments ago. In fact, the two were sweating hard, except for the fact that it wasn’t sweat.

Simons and Rawsons argument on who locked the door was cut short by a sudden scream by the people behind them. Both turned simultaneously to see Sheldons hand liquifying and sticking to Marshall. After a brief moment of standing in shock, both ran towards them, only to realize their mistakes when they found themselves melting with the same men they were trying to separate. Unable to split apart, all 4 began wrestling for control.

By now, the heat had gotten to the point that the poker table was lighting itself on fire, and the 4 melting men soon fell into the flames and smoke, surprisingly unbothered by it, too preoccupied with their current issues. Eventually, the flames calmed, and out came a 7 foot tall hunchback with 4 half melted faces, 4 arms on their sides, each to a different man, and 4 out the back with the same situation. All of them stumbled to the door together, their tears having mixed in with the rest of the body.

* * *

Alistair Kaspiare, who had been peacefully slumbering on his usual perch, was snoring softly. After quite a long trip to Havana, it was nice to be in his normal dragon form again and shake off what felt near damn close to betraying his own heritage by trying to blend in more with a human population. He was having a particularly pleasant dream about floating around in the depths of the sea with a bunch of bioluminiscent jellyfish and various other schools of fish... Well, until he wasn't.

As the red pulse washed over Kaspiare's body in the physical world, a tiny and shaky gasp that escaped the dragon was the only indication that something wasn't right with him. Meanwhile, in his dream, Kaspiare faltered as the pale form of the sun above suddenly shifted into a much more hostile scarlet moon without warning. Squinting with suspicion, the siren set himself into a more upright swimming position to get a better look at what exactly had happened to the sky, the jellyfish around him seeming to pause as well and observe the sky alongside him.

It was only then that even more changes began to occur. The schools of fish that had been traveling alongside Kaspiare all froze on the spot, their heads snapping in his direction and locking in on him and the jellyfish. Kaspiare stiffened as he noticed the strange lack of movement all around him, like the sea had begun to hold its breath. An inkling of dread welled up within his chest as he slowly turned his head back down to look at his surroundings, his breath catching in his throat as he saw all eyes on him and his glowing companions in all shades and colors. Then, they pounced.

The once peaceful school of fish reared their sharp, ravenous fangs and swarmed Kaspiare and his tentacled friends in overwhelming numbers. Kaspiare roared out with alarm and tried to swim away, though, was dragged back down into the sea of bloodthirsty fish without effort from a few particularly strong individuals. Though, the dragon didn't dare give up that easily. He flailed his legs and lashed out at anything he could manage to snag his claws on... The same couldn't be said for the poor jellyfish. The creatures, which once glowed plenty of different colors, were all being overwhelmed by the voracious fish; their tender forms being relentlessly torn apart and either being sent into the open ocean or being devoured by their predators. As if attempting to plea for mercy, their colors faded from their once vibrant shade to an ominous and forlorn red that, as the jellies continued to be torn apart, turned the blue ocean all around them a deep crimson red.

Kaspiare hadn't much time to even notice his jellyfish companions dying so rapidly before a few of the fish mercilessly wrapped themselves around his throat. The dragon gagged as his sources of oxygen was completely cut off, his flailing only getting worse - yet, little did he know that his struggling was all fruitless. The fish that were already snapping at him felt like nothing compared to the much more powerful chomps of the fish on his neck, his own viridian blood barely escaping the wounds that were created by the hostile beings thanks to them sucking it all up and making sure nothing escaped. This was it. This was how he died.

His vision began to blur and darken as he unknowingly lost an insurmountable amount of blood. His struggling ceased little by little as the monsters weighed his body down and dragged him into the darkness of the sea, never to be seen ever again. The last thing Kaspiare saw before he fully went unconscious was the now crimson sea closing in on him, and the almost mocking pale moon above shining down on him, which the dragon weakly glared at with pure, blazing hatred. He used the last of his strength to reach out to it with a paw, clutching at it despite knowing it'd do nothing to stop his impending doom... Then, everything went dar-

-

Kaspiare launched up from his sleeping position with a start, grasping his neck with a paw as he breathed heavily where he sat. He whipped his gaze out to the ocean and the beautiful night sky above in an attempt to seek any sort of comfort from it as he usually did, only to be swamped over with an overwhelming wave of agony and strife.

The siren roared out with shock and almost disbelief as he was met with the realization that his nightmare followed him into the waking world, and with another pulse of pain that spread from his head all the way down the rest of his body, he practically crumpled back down to the ground. He threw his claws over his head as he tried to cease the pain and figure out what the cause of it was, but not a single thought could break through the tyrannical rule that the emotion of terror had over his entire being.

Though, after a moment, the immense headache that he had began to focus in on his mouth... specifically his canines. Confused and bewildered, Kaspiare brought his attention down to his snout, only to groan as he felt said canines throb and swiftly shove the rest of his teeth to protrude out his mouth in the form of much, much sharper fangs. As if that initial panic wasn't already enough, Kaspiare sucked in a sharp breath as his claws, also, started to grow much sharper and longer - the ends of his mane in which he desperately tugged at to try and relieve himself of the overwhelming sensation being practically torn out by his talons.

As if that weren't enough, he shrieked out as his wings began to morph into something completely new. His bones crunched as they were forced out of place and into a completely new structure, alongside his feathers rapidly shedding and leaving a complete mess of the deck below and all around him. What was left in their place were a pair of much, much larger draconic and bat-like wings that practically draped over his body like a cape. He hadn't even noticed his fur darkening a multitude of shades in the process, leaving him looking a lot more like a hulking, demonic shadow in the masts if one were to look from below. Albeit, the one thing that'd give him away would be his inner wing membranes sparkling a harsh crimson, mimicking that of a blood red night sky. And his lure, which once glowed the same silver shade as the moon, now glowed a pale red - almost reflecting the same moon that was in his nightmare.

Thankfully, for him, those were the most extreme of his physical changes, yet his torment didn't end just there. As though he were afflicted by The Jester's spells once again, a deep pit of hunger opened up within his stomach. He slammed a paw over his mouth as he felt it salivate dramatically, practically drooling all over himself. Though, it wasn't an appetite for something he was familiar with... He wanted blood. Oh, that sweet, sweet, rushing red liquid that held the life force of both comrades and enemies alike... His fangs pulsated with more aching pain as his hunger intensified, as though trying to show the beast their new purpose besides tearing others apart. However, as much as new instincts tried to override him and urge him to seek out anyone around him to make his victim, his old siren instincts fought just as fiercely back and made sure to hold him steady to remind him of the people he loved and held so dearly to his heart. A valiant fight that let him stave off lashing out on his crewmates, thankfully, but would that hunger be staved off forever?

Glaring to the sky that was supposed to give him comfort once more, Kaspiare shakily pushed himself up to his paws, his large claws clicking on the pillar he stood upon. Panting harshly, he casted his eyes up to the full silver moon that shone innocently above - his usual lime gaze having shifted into a smoldering, fiery, reddish-orange hue. Throwing out his wings, he stumbled forth, all of his confused and furious thoughts reaching a boiling point, and the now vampiric dragon unleashed a ferocious roar into the night - a roar which caused the very waves around the ship to tremble under its might.