An old ship is set to be sunk for an artificial reef. An inspector makes a final round to make sure the explosives are wired and no curious souls are onboard. That’s when the inspector finds a locked compartment which does not open to the supposed master key. What could be hiding inside that someone wants buried in the deep? -- Deathshead419
It may surprise many to learn that it takes a lot of effort to sink a ship on purpose. It's not just where and when. It's making sure every last speck of hazardous chemicals aboard are gone. Making certain that nothing left aboard would tempt divers to risk their lives going to fetch it or going to look at it. And making sure no air pockets could possibly remain.
Pressure is a harsh master, and one implosion can ruin a lot of plans. Especially if that implosion is in a load-bearing section of the wreck. Or, for instance, filled with things that could tempt divers.
Any mystery can tempt a diver, not thinking that the default answer to "What's down there?" is "Death. Specifically, yours."
So of course it was Becker's job to make absolutely, positively, life-or-death certain that nothing had been missed. Checking each and every chamber and checking it off on my map. GPS couldn't help in that rusting iron maze. The signal strength was bullshit and the pinpointing capability was even worse.
Every door should have been removed. Every cable, every chain, should have already been on its way to a different foundry. Which was why Becker was so pissed to find not just a door, but a locked door that was chained and padlocked shut. The master key didn't work on either lock. Becker had to check off the entire level and then stomp up to the open air to radio for a plasma cutter.
"What the hell?"
"Some fucker left a door down in midships. Locked and chained shut."
The super said it all with, "Mother of fuck..."
It automatically added half a day to the schedule. More once they found out what the hell was in the locked room. When they found out which moron had done this, they would hang them up by their toes. If nadgers were not available.
Portable plasma cutter helicoptered to the deck, and the helicopter itself waiting for its return, Becker stomped back down to the locked door. Chains cut through and woven into the handle of the cutter, he started working on the door. Hinges first, because he would have to haul that fucking door all the way up for the helicopter to take off to a truck hired just for the occasion.
Lock cut out, Becker felt perfectly justified in kicking it out of its place.
He only got a glimpse of the thing inside before it lurched at him. An impression of swollen pustules, writhing, boneless limbs, teeth where teeth should never be and eyes in worse locations. There was a stench of blood, rotted flesh, and sulphur.
Then Becker slashed at it with the flame of his plasma cutter. The scream was so loud that he was effectively deafened for two hours. The spatter painted him and half the room, and what was left of whatever it was looked like a puddle of tar.
He cut the door into manageable pieces and set the remains on fire before dragging him, part of the door, and the plasma cutter up to the fucking helicopter. Where Davo the Pilot freaked the fuck out. "What the freewheeling flying hell was in that locked room?"
"Don't know, don't care, don't wanna find out. I'm clocking off."
[Photo by Vivek Doshi on Unsplash]
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