Story 207: The Ghost Ship

Damien Rook stood at the edge of the Blackwater Marsh, his boots sinking slightly into the wet ground. The air was thick with the smell of decay, and the distant call of crows echoed through the fog. A storm had rolled in from the west, and with it, a rumor had reached him—an ancient shipwreck, long thought to be lost, had been spotted drifting just off the coast. But this was no ordinary ship. It was said to be cursed, haunted by the spirits of the dead, doomed to sail eternally in the murky waters of the Blackwater.

Damien wasn’t one to ignore a curse. The ship, known as the Sea Widow, might hold the answers to the curse of the revenants, a piece of the puzzle in this relentless hunt for the source of the apocalypse. If he could reach it.

Beside him, Lena adjusted her pack. “A ghost ship, really?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “This just keeps getting better.”