CROSSING (standard:horror, 1458 words)
Author: Danny Raven	Added: Feb 13 2006	Views/Reads: 3629/2288	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A man wakes up and finds himself on board a boat. How did he get there ? Where is he going ? When he finds the answers, he wishes he hadn't.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


The man finished cleaning his damned pipe then slowly looked round. He
stared at me for a time before speaking. “You don't know ?” he asked. 

“Know what ?” 

“Why you're here ?” 

“Of course not,” I told him.“ The last thing I remember was the pain in
my chest then I must've passed out. When I came round I was....” 

The look of understanding that came into my eyes must've told him I
suddenly knew. He turned away and started filling his pipe. 

I gripped the rail tighter, the realization of what had happened
stunning me. “So I died !” I muttered aloud, gazing out unseeing over 
the dark water. “Back there in my study – I died !” I glanced at the 
stranger for a reaction but he said nothing so his silence confirmed 
that I had guessed correctly. 

Fear and wonder ran through me at the same time  Dead ! I was dead !! My
life had ended !!! At least it had happened quickly and I was grateful 
for that. There had been no long drawn out suffering. 

Then something else occurred to me. I was dead yet still felt,
well....alive. I mean I could see, hear, think, feel. If there was 
supposed to be nothing after death, I wouldn't be capable of these, 
wouldn't be here now. 

“So there is life after death !” I muttered in amazement. 

“For some,” the stranger muttered, tamping down the tobacco in his pipe.


I didn't really hear him. I was still staring out over the river, still
getting used to the discoveries I'd just made. 

We were nearing the opposite bank now and I could make out some of it. A
jetty pointed towards us, stcking out into the river like a long, bony, 
beckoning finger. There was a figure standing on the bank watching us 
approach but I couldn't make him out from this distance. 

I glanced back at the stranger. He had filled his pipe and was now
lighting it, holding a match over the bowl and puffing out small wisps 
of smoke. I smiled at him, suddenly understanding his earlier attitude. 
He was puzzled and afraid, just like me. 

“So you died too ?” I said, still smiling at him. 

He shook his head and continued to puff on his pipe. 

I frowned. “Not dead ? Then who--.” 

“I'm the Ferryman,” he interrupted, taking the pipe from his mouth. 

“The Ferryman ?” I repeated, frowning. “You mean this is your work ?” 

He nodded. 

It all seemed strange, unreal somehow but I decided I had to play along
with it all till I got to the bottom of things. Then I thought, if this 
chap says he's the Ferryman I suppose I ought to humour him. I felt for 
my wallet but it wasn't where I usually keep it. I searched through my 
other pockets but they were all empty. 

“I'm sorry,” I said to him, “I can't seem to find my wallet. I won't be
able to pay.” 

He glanced at me. “You will,” he replied. 

His pipe was well lit now and he seemed satisfied with it. The smell of
the tobacco was strong and sweet as the soft breeze wafted it past me. 
He turned and started back to the door he'd come out of earlier and I 
could see now that it was the wheelhouse. I caught his arm as he walked 
away. 

“If you're the Ferryman you'll know where we're going,” I said. 

He jerked with his pipe in the direction of the approaching jetty.
“There,” was all he said. 

“Does it have a name – this place ?” I asked. 

He didn't answer, just stared at me in silence. 

“Well the river then – do I know it ?” 

He continued to stare at me. It was a strange look. Not pity or contempt
or anything like that. More puzzlement. Like I should have known. 

“It's called the Styx,” he said eventually, then jerked his arm free and
went back into the wheelhouse. 

I staggered back against the rail then turned and looked down at the
dark river. Something started gnawing away at me then. Cold and black. 
Like the water. 

The boat started to slow and I glanced up. We were nearing the jetty and
the figure I'd seen earlier was strolling along it. He seemed in no 
hurry, like he had all the time in the world. 

It was with a sickening comprehension that I realized who he was and why
he was there. He was coming to meet us. 

To meet me. 

The throb of the engine died in the boat and it coasted slowly in the
last few yards then bumped softly against the jetty. 

The figure walking along was closer and I could make him out quite
clearly now. Quite clearly. 

And he was grinning. 


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