Eugene waited patiently, enveloped in darkness, savoring the moments of pure anticipation while Sasha Titov’s crew members slept unaware of his presence and oblivious of their impending fate. With their bodies still, no doubt dreaming peacefully, the men sleeping in their metal-framed cots had no idea that when they woke, he would kill them, slowly.
He had already assassinated Sasha Titov, the ship’s captain, despite coming dangerously close to liking him. He’d almost enjoyed his company. Almost. His human imperfections had hindered his likability far too greatly. Eugene had no choice but to dispose of him.
Though the exhilaration of Titov’s execution was fresh, the thrill of approaching murder energized Eugene anew, threatened to overtake him. His insides trembled violently. He fought to remain still.
Sitting with impeccable posture on an undersized wooden chair in a dormitory-style living compartment of the ship, he watched as one of its crew members stirred and groggily opened his eyes. The man’s gaze widened gradually, then froze, unblinking, no doubt shocked to see a figure seated before him.
The man did not waste time reacting. Without taking his eyes off Eugene, he immediately reached an arm out to alert his bunkmates.
Slowly, each roused and became aware of the stranger among them.
Eugene turned on the light switch just behind him. Stark, fluorescent light flooded the room and offered the men an unobstructed view of his magnificence. He briefly enjoyed the amazement etched in each face staring at him before he spoke.
“Good morning gentlemen,” he began. The rich bass timbre of his voice filled the small room. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Who are you and why are you in here watching us sleep?” a man asked nervously.
Eugene could smell fear seeping through the man’s pores. He delighted in the pungent aroma.
“Sasha asked me to wake you earlier, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it; you were all sleeping so peacefully.”
Eugene paused before adding, “We are already at sea.”
Confusion arose among the crew, confusion and questions.
“Where is Sasha? Why didn’t he wake us?” another man asked.
Eugene wished to toy with them, draw out his expectancy.
“He was very busy, getting prepared for our journey. I was simply doing him a favor. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.”
“Who are you?” an angry voice demanded.
“Oh, forgive me. I’ve forgotten my manners,” Eugene taunted. “I am Eugene. I’m hitching a ride with you. Thanks to Sasha, I’ll be riding with you to the Aleutians.”
He observed how his words affected each man, how they grew increasingly distrustful and agitated.
“I can see that you are all concerned. Please try to stay calm,” Eugene said extending his powerful arms out at his sides. “Let me get Sasha for you. Seeing him will explain everything, answer all of your questions.”
Eugene stepped out of the sleeping area and into the narrow hallway to retrieve Sasha Titov’s lifeless body he’d propped against the wall. Grabbing the rotund man by the neck, he dragged him to where the crew waited.
“Here he is, gentlemen. I apologize for not having him with me in the first place.”
The corners of Eugene’s mouth pulled away from each other and produced a sinister smile.
“It would have explained things more clearly,” he concluded as he released Sasha Titov’s neck, allowing his corpse to collapse to the ground unceremoniously.
There was a long pause as shock prevailed and the gravity of the situation failed to register with the crew members.
Eventually, however, four pairs of eyes gaped at him in horror. Eugene enjoyed their collective look of equal parts despair and dread. They understood they were going to die. The experience bordered on intense pleasure, the heightening sensation of excitement leading up to the actual kill, the release. The swell of eagerness was a challenge to contain. But Eugene knew control was crucial, that it bolstered the pure elation of the final act.
Eugene sat back down in the chair he occupied moments ago. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, watching intently as the men scrambled from their cots and moved frantically about the cabin. A tremor racked his body without warning, exhilaration overwhelmed him unexpectedly.
Men clambered to their feet and ran past him. He afforded them such courtesy as it would prove all the more entertaining for him in the long run. Once they reached the deck and realized he had released both rescue boats, the late Sasha Titov’s crew members would be faced with a choice: plunge overboard into the frozen waters of the Northern Pacific Ocean-a certain death-or take their chances with him, and fight.
The option Eugene longed for was clear.
He allowed the men several moments to decide, to either convince one another to unite and strike at him together, or to split up and hide. Either alternative would be entertaining.
Once enough time had passed and he was confident the men had chosen their fate, Eugene slowly rose from the small wooden chair he sat on and stretched before venturing out into the hallway to begin his hunt.