Fearful Fathoms: Collected Tales of Aquatic Terror (Vol. I - Seas & Oceans) Read online

  FEARFUL FATHOMS: Collected Tales of Aquatic Terror (Vol. I – Seas & Oceans)

  Copyright © 2017 Mark Parker

  Published by Scarlet Galleon Publications LLC

  ASIN: B073YL5PVP

  Edited by Mark Parker

  Cover design by David Mickolas

  Illustrations by Luke Spooner

  FIRST EDITION

  Abandon used by permission – copyright © 2017 Brad P. Christy

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever, by photography or xerography or by any other means, by broadcast or transmission, by translation into any kind of language, not by recording or otherwise, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in critical articles or reviews.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author(s) and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author(s), and all incidents are pure invention.

  This publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the original (or reprinted) works as follows:

  “Widow’s Point” copyright © 2017 by Richard Chizmar and Billy Chizmar

  “The Gray Man” copyright © 2017 Mark Parker

  “Fear Sun” copyright © 2017 by Laird Barron (originally published in Innsmouth Nightmares, PS Publishing, 2015)

  “Carnacki: The Lusitania” copyright © 2017 by William Meikle (originally published in Carnacki: Heaven and Hell, by Dark Regions Press, 2013)

  “Floodland” copyright © 2017 by Cameron Pierce

  “Sirens” copyright © 2017 by Dallas Mullican

  “Draugar” copyright © 2017 by Bryan Clark

  “Old Bogey” copyright © 2017 by Lori R. Lopez

  “The Lighthouse” copyright © 2017 by Annie Neugebauer

  “Port of Call” copyright © 2017 by W.D. Gagliani (originally published in Extremes 3: Terror on the High Seas, Lone Wolf Publications, 2001)

  “Beneath the Surface” copyright © 2017 by Stuart Keane

  “Once Tolled the Lutine Bell” copyright © 2017 by Jack Rollins

  “She Beckons” copyright © 2017 by D.G. Sutter

  “Cape Hadel” copyright © 2017 by Brad P. Christy

  “Seastruck” copyright © 2017 by John Everson

  “Alone on the Waves” copyright © 2017 by Eric S. Brown

  “Band of Souls” copyright © 2017 by C.M. Saunders

  “A Thousand Thick and Terrible Things” copyright © 2017 by David Mickolas

  “Maelstrom” copyright © 2017 by Doug Rinaldi, (originally published in Tales of Salt & Sorrow, Static Movement, 2011, and Purgatory Behind These Eyes, Doug Rinaldi/Mayhem Street Media, 2016)

  “Hallowed Point” copyright © 2017 by Andrew Bell

  “Wanderer” copyright © 2017 by Shane Lindemoen

  “Canned Crab” copyright © 2017 by Nick Nafpliotis

  “On Ullins Bank” copyright © 2017 by John Linwood Grant

  “The Way We Are Lifted” copyright © 2017 by Aric Sundquist (originally published in New Tales of the Old Ones: A Cthulhu Anthology, KnightWatch Press, 2013)

  “Surviving the River Styx” copyright © 2017 by Paul Michael Anderson (originally published in A Means to an End, edited by Eric Beebe, Post Mortem Press, 2011, and reprinted in Bones are Made to be Broken from Written Backwards/Dark Regions Press, 2016)

  “The Water Elemental” copyright © 2017 by A.P. Sessler

  “The Paper Shield” copyright © 2017 by James Lowder (originally published in Sojourn: An Anthology of Speculative Fiction, edited by Laura K. Anderson and Ryan J. McDaniel, 2014)

  “Seascape” copyright © 2017 by Jack Ketchum (originally published as a limited edition chapbook, Shocklines Press, 2005)

  “Corbett’s Cage” copyright © 2017 Shawn P. Madison

  “Jonah Inside the Whale: A Meditation” copyright © by 2017 Jason Sechrest

  Contents

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  DEDICATION

  INTRODUCTION

  WIDOW’S POINT

  Richard Chizmar & Billy Chizmar

  THE GRAY MAN

  Mark Parker

  FEAR SUN

  Laird Barron

  CARNACKI: THE LUSITANIA

  William Meikle

  FLOODLAND

  Cameron Pierce

  SIRENS

  Dallas Mullican

  DRAUGAR

  Bryan Clark

  OLD BOGEY

  Lori R. Lopez

  THE LIGHTHOUSE

  Annie Neugebauer

  PORT OF CALL

  W.D. Gagliani

  BENEATH THE SURFACE

  Stuart Keane

  ONCE TOLLED THE LUTINE BELL

  Jack Rollins

  SHE BECKONS

  D.G. Sutter

  CAPE HADEL

  Brad P. Christy

  SEASTRUCK

  John Everson

  ALONE ON THE WAVES

  Eric S. Brown

  BAND OF SOULS

  C.M. Saunders

  A THOUSAND THICK AND TERRIBLE THINGS

  David Mickolas

  MAELSTROM

  Doug Rinaldi

  HALLOWED POINT

  Andrew Bell

  WANDERER

  Shane Lindemoen

  CANNED CRAB

  Nick Nafpliotis

  ON ULLINS BANK

  John Linwood Grant

  THE WAY WE ARE LIFTED

  Aric Sundquist

  SURVIVING THE RIVER STYX

  Paul Michael Anderson

  THE WATER ELEMENTAL

  A.P. Sessler

  THE PAPER SHIELD

  James Lowder

  SEASCAPE

  Jack Ketchum

  CORBETT’S CAGE

  Shawn P. Madison

  JONAH INSIDE THE WHALE: A MEDITATION

  Jason Sechrest

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  TITLES BY SCARLET GALLEON PUBLICATIONS

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Many thanks go to:

  Richard and Billy Chizmar, father and son, for entering into a landmark collaboration to write a wonderfully haunting story for this project.

  Jack Ketchum, for sharing his talent with us in a story that has been out of print for nearly a decade—and for permitting us to bring it back for readers within this volume.

  Luke Spooner, for offering his incredible talent, once again, by creating original artwork for each story (and for surprising me by creating color versions for the digital eBook).

  David Mickolas, for once again creating an incredible cover design—but this time for two books!

  Jim Braswell, for a wonderful job of interior book design and layout.

  Doug Rinaldi, for offering his reading skills to this project early on.

  Dallas Mullican, for his support and guidance in shaping this herculean double-anthology.

  To each contributor, for their talent, support, and patience throughout.

  DEDICATION

  For my mother, who first introduced me to the wonders of the sea, and taught me the importance of respecting her many mysteries.

  O abandon!

  Lost is the promise of childhood’s dreams

  The kiss of ocean spray on my lips

  And the feel of the trade winds

  Ushering me into the vastness of
possibility

  How I craved the freedom of the open sea

  To discover the exotic, the taboo

  O wretched, ruinous abandon!

  Lost is the promise of a life well-lived

  Helplessly, I reach up toward the sun

  Its rays breaking through the wavering surface

  Sparkling ghosts that I cannot grasp

  Blue fades to crushing black

  Dragged down into these fearful fathoms.

  —Brad P. Christy

  INTRODUCTION

  The sea has always called to me.

  I don’t know about you, but it both fascinates and terrifies me in equal measure. When I was fourteen years old, JAWS was released into theaters and I must’ve seen that particular film at least twenty-five times that summer—each trip to the movie theater funded by the hundred-customer paper route I had at the time. JAWS changed everything for me. I don’t know why it held such power over me, but it did. Spielberg and his crew hit the shores of Martha’s Vineyard, and turned a tiny island community into the backdrop for one of the most iconic films of all time. Of course as soon as it hit bookstore shelves, I ran into my local Waldenbooks to purchase a copy of THE JAWS LOG, wanting to know every secret behind the making of the film. But I think it was the chord of inexplicable fear that the story itself planted deep within me that affected me most, and kept me obsessed.

  After my marathon summer of movie watching, I remember taking a friend’s skiff out for an afternoon of sun and spray, only to be haunted by memories of those shark-shadows—and, of course, that terrifying dud-dum…dud-dum…dud-dum music that continued to play over and over again inside my head. It was the same music, you might remember, that swelled each time another appearance from the shark took place in the movie. Even if ‘Bruce’ was merely a mechanized stand-in for the real thing, I was chilled to the bone every time its dorsal fin cut the surface of the ocean.

  I suppose it was seeing that movie all those many years ago, that had me wanting to do an anthology like Fearful Fathoms. I thought it was a cool concept—one that had teeth, I guess you could say. But mostly it was about that chord of fear. That inexplicable spear of terror that rose up in me each and every time I permitted my thoughts to turn to whatever might be lurking beneath the water’s surface. I mean, any number of truly horrible things could swim up to greet me, tug at my leg, or, hell, even bite it off, if I allowed my thoughts to drift deeply enough.

  What about you? How deep does your fear go?

  I know that’s been a question I’ve asked myself many times over while compiling the stories for this collection. Sometimes, the answer comes back: Not too deep. While, other times, it’s a resounding: All-the-way-down deep!

  Contained here are stories that will touch on almost every experience a reader might have had on—or in—the sea. Hopefully the stories will chill you—some subtly, some directly—but all in ways that are as frigid and fearful as memory allows. Enjoy!

  Mark Parker, Editor

  July 2017

  WIDOW’S POINT

  Richard Chizmar & Billy Chizmar

  Video/audio footage #1A (5:49pm, Friday, July 11, 2017)

  The man holds the video camera in his left hand and grips the steering wheel with his right. The road, and calling it a road is charitable at best, is unpaved dirt and gravel, and the camera POV is unsteady. Mostly we see bouncing images of the interior dashboard of the car and snippets of blue sky through a dirty windshield. The Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil” plays at low volume on the car radio.

  After another thirty seconds of this, we hear the squeal of brakes in need of repair and the car swings in a wide circle—giving us a shaky glimpse of a stone lighthouse standing atop a grassy point of land—and comes to a stop facing rocky cliffs that drop perilously to the Atlantic Ocean below. The ocean here is dark and rough and foreboding, even on a clear day like today.

  The man turns off the engine and we immediately hear the whine of the wind through his open window. Off in the foreground, an old man, thinning gray hair, glasses, and a wrinkled apple of a face, shuffles into view.

  The man exits the car, still pointing the camera at the old man, and we see his hand enter the top corner of the screen, as the driver flips the old man a wave.

  “Hello,” he yells above the wind, walking toward the old man.

  Up ahead, we watch the old man shuffling his way toward us through the blowing grass. It appears as if the wind might steal him away and send him kiting over the distant cliffs. At first, we believe he is smiling. As we draw closer, we realize we are wrong, and the old man is scowling. It’s not a pretty sight; like a skeletal corpse grinning from inside a moldy coffin.

  “Turn that damn camera off,” the old man growls.

  The picture is immediately replaced with a blurry patch of brown and green grass, as the man lowers the camera.

  “Okayyy, we’ll just edit that out later,” the man says to himself off-camera.

  And then in a louder voice: “Sorry, I didn’t think it would—”

  The screen goes blank.

  Video/audio footage #2A (6:01pm, Friday, July 11, 2017)

  The screen comes to life and we see the stone lighthouse off in the distance and hear the muffled crash of waves pounding the shoreline off-screen. It’s evident from the swaying view of the lighthouse and the intense howl of the wind that the camera is now affixed to a tripod somewhere close to the edge of the cliffs.

  The man walks on-screen, carrying a knapsack and what looks like a remote control for the camera. He appears to be in his mid-forties, shaggy blonde hair, neat dark-framed glasses, artfully scuffed boots, pressed jeans, and a gray sweatshirt. He stares directly at the camera, green eyes squinting in the wind, and sidesteps back and forth, searching for the proper positioning.

  He settles on a spot just in time to witness a particularly violent gust of wind defeat the tripod.

  “Shit,” the man blurts, and sprints toward the camera—as it leans hard to the left and crashes to the ground.

  There is a squawk of static and the screen goes blank.

  Video/audio footage #3A (6:04pm, Friday, July 11, 2017)

  The video switches on again, and we see the man standing in the foreground of the lighthouse, pointing the remote at the camera. The image is much steadier this time around. The man slides the remote in the back pocket of his jeans and clears his throat.

  “Okay, only have a few minutes, folks. Mr. Parker is in quite the hurry to get out of here. He’s either playing the role of hesitant and anxious lighthouse owner to the extreme and faking his discomfort, or he’s genuinely unnerved and wants to be pretty much anywhere else but here on the property his family has owned for over a century now.”

  The man leans over, his hands disappearing just off-screen, and returns holding the knapsack, which he places close on the ground at his side. He stands with an erect but relaxed posture and folds his hands together in front of him.

  “My name is Thomas Livingston, bestselling author of Shattered Dreams, Ashes to Ashes, and eleven other bestselling non-fiction volumes of the supernatural. I’m here today on the windswept coast of Harper’s Cove at the far northern tip of Nova Scotia standing at the foot of the legendary Widow’s Point Lighthouse.

  “According to historical records, the Widow’s Point Lighthouse, originally named for the large number of ships that crashed in the rocky shallows below before its existence, was erected in the summer of 1838 by Franklin Washburn II, the proprietor of the largest fishing and gaming company in Nova Scotia.”

  Livingston’s face grows somber.

  “There is little doubt that the Widow’s Point Lighthouse led to a sharp decrease in the number of nautical accidents off her shoreline—but at what cost? Legend and literally centuries of first-hand accounts seem to reinforce the belief that the Widow’s Point Lighthouse is cursed…or perhaps an even more apt description…haunted.

  “The legend was born when three workers were killed dur
ing the lighthouse’s construction, including the young nephew of Mr. Washburn II, who plunged to his death from the lighthouse catwalk during the final week of work. The weather was clear that day, the winds offshore and light. All safety precautions were in place. The tragic accident was never explained.

  “The dark fortunes continued when the lighthouse’s first keeper, a by-all-accounts ‘steadfast individual’ went inexplicably mad during one historically violent storm and strangled his wife to death before taking his own life.

  “In the decades that followed, nearly two dozen other mysterious deaths occurred within the confines—or on the nearby grounds—of the Widow’s Point Lighthouse, including cold-blooded murder, suicide, unexplained accidents, the mass-slaughter of an entire family in 1933, and even rumors of devil worship and human sacrifice.

  “There have been many other detailed accounts of additional mysterious and supernatural incidents, not only inside the lighthouse, but outside on the grounds and even upon the stormy waters below.

  “After the final abomination in 1933, in which the murderer of the Collins’ family left behind a letter claiming he was ‘instructed’ to kill by a ghostly visitor, the most recent owner of the Widow’s Point Lighthouse, seafood tycoon Robert James Parker—yes, the grandfather of Mr. Ronald Parker, the camera-shy gentleman you glimpsed earlier—decided to cease operations and shutter the lighthouse permanently.

  “Or so he believed…

  “Because in 1985, Parker’s eldest son, Ronald’s father, entered into an agreement with the United Artists film studio from Hollywood, California to allow the studio to film a movie both inside the lighthouse and on the surrounding acreage. The movie, a gothic thriller entitled Rosemary’s Spirit, was filmed over a period of six weeks from mid-September to the first week of November. Despite the lighthouse’s menacing reputation, the filming went off without a hitch…until the final week of shooting, that is…when supporting actress Lydia Pearl hanged herself from one of the catwalk guard railings atop the lighthouse.

  “Trade publications reported that Ms. Pearl was despondent following a recent break-up with her professional baseball playing fiancé, Roger Barthelme. But locals here believed differently. They believed with great conviction that, after all those long years of silent slumber, the Widow’s Point curse had reawakened and claimed another victim.