Death #25:
Number 7
By Sagar
Blue Skies. Blue Ocean. A gentle breeze
in the air.
"Just like the old days", thought Nick,
as he steered his boat out into the open sea off the Florida Keys. Living in LA
for a few years now, Nick missed his old hobby. On vacation after a big tour,
he decided to fly off to Tampa and meet a few old buddies. Today, he felt he
needed some time alone and rented out an old Sea-ray. This was his idea of
alone time: just him and the ocean that he loved.
He had gone a long a way out into the deep sea, when
he heard the boat's engines making weird noises. "Damn it! Not now!"
he said to himself. And in a few moments, as he feared, the engines gave up. He
played around with his wrench for a while, but to no avail. Exhausted, he went
up to grab the mic on his radio, when he spotted another boat coming towards
him. "Guess I'll be getting a ride home", he thought and waved out as
the other boat pulled up beside him. He was pleasantly surprised to see a woman
come out, she motioned him to climb aboard. "Need a lift?", she asked
and Nick just smiled back.
She was in her late 30s, blonde, nothing
strikingly beautiful about her, but Nick did find something strangely
attractive about her. A woman out at sea just like him: could well have been
his dream girl.
"You're Nick Carter, aren't you?", she
asked peering closer at him. "Yes I am" he replied, "Wow, you've
got a collection of knives and harpoons there", he continued, pointing to
the open case kept in a corner. "Yes, fishing is my hobby", she
replied, "You look exhausted, have a drink." She handed him a bottle
of orange juice and moved up to start the boat. Nick gulped down some of it,
and noticed her turning the boat back out to sea. He got up to ask her about
it, but was overcome by a numbing sensation through his entire body and fell
unconscious. When he woke up, he found himself choking on some pungent liquid
being forced down his throat. Gasping, he tried to fight his way free, but his
hands were weak, he felt paralyzed. He tried to shout out, but that liquid had
caused some inflammation in his throat, choking his voice. He could barely let
out a whisper. He saw the woman looking at him with a cold, emotionless stare.
She reached back to drag her weapon-case. She first gagged his mouth with
cloth, staring at his horrified eyes, and said "You rich people think you
own the ocean. Do nothing but pollute it" Nick wanted to tell her he
wasn't like that. He just wanted this nightmare to stop. His pleading eyes
began to well up with tears.
"I'm teaching you all a lesson one by one.
You're number 7", and Nick let out a muffled scream as he felt a searing
pain in his abdomen. The harpoon left a deep gash, blood starting to pour out
from the wound. She didn't pull it out. Instead, she twirled it around watching
Nick scream and his body arch in agonizing pain. After being satisfied with her
game, she pulled the harpoon out, leaving a gaping wound, with blood flowing
out. Reaching into her case, she pulled out a large knife, first playing with
the blade, leaving cuts all over Nick's arms and chest. Then she stabbed him
violently several times, puncturing his lungs, leaving him a bloody mess. Nick
was fighting to keep his breath, noticing her getting up to torture him more.
She brought out a rope to tie him up. As she went about this, the rope dragging
across his wounds made his agony unbearable. She pushed him over to the side of
the boat and raised him up against the edge.
She could read in his eyes that he was pleading
for mercy. Pulling up a knife to his neck, she showed her first sign of
emotion, a smirk as she whispered in his ear "I liked NSync more
anyway", slashed his throat and pushed him into the water. Nick was
help;ess. Bleeding, drowning, he was seeing the end getting closer. Breathing
his last in the very ocean he loved so much.
His worried family & friends had called in for
help. The Coast Guard found his stranded boat, but no sign of Nick. A few days
later, coastal authorities in the Bahamas reported a dead body found at the beach:
male, Caucasian, early 30s. It didn't take too long for the body to be
identified. The headlines flashed: "Backstreet Boy Nick Carter missing for
3 days, found dead at sea".
***