Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 60: Red in the Deep

The ship moaned like a wounded beast as the storm intensified. Rain pelted down in sheets so thick it was nearly impossible to see, and the wind shrieked through the sails like a banshee’s wail. Every creak of the Sea Phantom threatened collapse. Still, the Captain’s voice roared above the chaos.

"All hands! Get to the mast! Hold her steady or we lose everything!"

From below deck, the group emerged one by one, drenched to the bone, slipping and stumbling up the soaked stairs. Liam led the charge without hesitation, his boots thudding on the flooded planks as lightning illuminated the world around them in sudden, blinding flashes.

"Move! Grab the ropes!" he barked, his voice cutting through the howl of the wind. "We need to keep the mast standing!"

Sophia, Eleanor, Jason, even Marcus—all of them surged forward behind Liam, joining the desperate crew. Thick ropes were thrust into their hands, and they strained with everything they had, wrapping the lines around their arms and shoulders to keep from being flung overboard. The mast, now swaying like a tree in a hurricane, cracked ominously as another surge of wind slammed into it. The soaked ropes burned into their palms, the salt stinging in open blisters.

As the mast groaned and threatened to snap under the force of the howling winds, Von had stepped in like a pillar of strength. With veins bulging and muscles straining, he held one of the thick ropes in place. Liam ordered Von along with Marcus, Sophia, and Eleanor. They quickly followed his lead—grabbing ropes, tying knots, and using all their strength to brace the mast. The ship creaked and shuddered, but together—with Von’s raw power anchoring them—they managed to keep the mast from crashing down. Without his help, it might’ve been the end of the Sea Phantom right then and there.

Captain Ander, his gray hair plastered to his skull, spared a moment’s glance at Liam—watching him take charge, shouting orders, steadying the others.

"He’s no soldier," the Captain thought, pulling at a rope of his own. "But that boy was born to lead."

But there was no time to admire. The sea was hungry. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

Amid the raging storm, Von’s relentless focus was on keeping the Sea Phantom afloat. As water poured in faster than they could throw it out, the ship’s weight was becoming dangerously too much. The crew scrambled, but it was Von who took charge. With a mighty roar, he ordered the crew to throw off anything that wasn’t bolted down.

"Everything! The cargo! Throw it all overboard!" Von bellowed, his voice barely audible over the storm’s fury.

He moved with purpose, tossing barrels, crates, and sacks of supplies over the side. The ship lurched as it lightened, but Von wasn’t done. He grabbed ropes, cut loose barrels of gunpowder, and shoved them overboard without hesitation. His movements were swift, calculating—he had no time for anything but survival. Each piece of cargo was flung over with the force of a man who had faced storms before.

Liam and the others followed suit, grabbing whatever they could. But it was Von, towering over them like a force of nature, who led the charge. The ship rocked violently as more weight was discarded, the crew working together in a frantic frenzy. His strength was unmatched as he threw another heavy crate overboard, eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of salvation.

The Sea Phantom groaned under the strain, but thanks to Von’s leadership and sheer willpower, the ship remained afloat, its weight reduced just enough to give them a fighting chance.

Another monstrous wave reared its head—taller than the mast itself—and slammed into the side of the ship like a hammer of the gods. The entire vessel tilted dangerously, and the scream of splintering wood rang out again. Men were flung across the deck like rag dolls, some disappearing over the sides in a blink.

Mariel had been helping at the main sail, her soaked red dress clinging to her skin, her hands gripping a support beam when the wave struck.

She never had a chance.

The water hit her with brutal force, lifting her clean off the deck. Her scream was cut short as she was thrown backward, her limbs flailing wildly. But by some miracle—or sheer desperation—she caught the railing as she flew past it. Her fingers locked onto the slick wood, and there she hung, legs dangling, the ocean below roaring for her.

"Mariel!" Liam’s voice cut through the night like a blade. He saw her—saw the terror in her eyes, the helplessness. Without a thought, he charged toward her, slipping and slamming into the wet deck more than once, but he pushed on. He reached out, his fingers brushing hers—

Another wave slammed into the ship.

Her grip gave out.

"No!" Liam shouted.

Mariel’s scream vanished into the sea as she was ripped away by the merciless tide, her body swallowed up by the chaos below. For a split second, Liam stood frozen, his hand still outstretched. Then came the silence—the kind that makes your heart sink.

She was gone.

Swept into the black, churning depths beneath them.

The moment Mariel slipped into the sea, time seemed to stutter. Everyone on the Sea Phantom stood in shocked silence as the storm raged on, unrelenting. Rain poured from the heavens like bullets, thunder shook the very bones of the ship, and the furious ocean kept slamming wave after wave against the creaking hull.

But all eyes were on the spot where Mariel had vanished.

"Mariel!" Captain Ander’s roar ripped through the chaos. His voice—usually rough, arrogant, and booming with command—now cracked with something far more human. Panic. Desperation. Loss. His boots thundered across the slick deck, his coat whipping behind him as he bolted for the railing.

"Don’t be foolish, Captain!" one of the crew shouted.

But Ander didn’t listen.

He threw off his belt and lunged forward, about to leap straight into the ocean, his arms spread wide like a man ready to surrender himself to the sea. His face contorted in anguish as he screamed her name again.

"MARIEL!"

At the very last second, two of his sailors tackled him, their soaked hands gripping his arms, pulling him back as he struggled against them like a madman.

"Let go of me, damn you! That’s my daughter!" Ander bellowed, his eyes red with rage and fear.

"It’s too late! You’ll die out there! The sea’s taken her—"

"SHE’S NOT DEAD!" Ander roared back, spitting water and grief, fighting like a beast possessed. But the men held him firm, anchoring him to the ship as the storm showed no mercy.

Then came a sound none of them expected.

A splash.

They turned just in time to see Liam’s body cut through the air and plunge into the black water below.

"LIAM!" Sophia screamed.

The group—frozen in disbelief—ran to the rail. Eleanor’s eyes widened. Jason’s mouth dropped open. Marcus flinched like he’d been punched.

"Holy shit—he jumped!" Jason gasped.

"Is he insane!?" Eleanor shouted over the roaring wind, her voice hoarse.

"Fucking idiot!" Marcus cursed, slamming his fist against the railing. "What the hell is wrong with him?!"

But Sophia... she didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Her chest felt tight—like the storm had crawled inside her ribcage and was tearing her apart from within. Her heart pounded in her ears louder than the thunder.

Below, in the freezing dark water, Liam fought to keep himself afloat. The cold stabbed into him like knives, instantly numbing his limbs, but he didn’t stop. He gasped for air between waves, blinking through the stinging salt as he turned frantically, searching.

"MARIEL!" he shouted into the void, his voice hoarse and breaking.

He dove again, kicking against the pull of the current. Deeper, deeper—his arms outstretched, his eyes wide but useless in the murky black. He saw nothing. Only darkness. Only water. Only the pressure crushing in from all sides. Panic clawed at his chest. His lungs burned.

He surfaced, gasping, spinning around. The ship loomed in the distance, rocked by wave after wave. "MARIEL!" he screamed again, louder this time, the name torn from his throat.

But there was no answer.

Only wind. Only water. Only rage.

Back on deck, Ander had gone quiet. The fight had drained from him. He sagged to his knees, his soaked beard dripping, his eyes locked on the spot where his daughter and now Liam had vanished.

The crew didn’t speak. The storm still howled.

The group stood frozen. The image of Liam, diving headfirst into a storm for someone he’d barely known, was burned into their minds.

Sophia looked down at the water with tears in her eyes and whispered under her breath, "You idiot... why would you do that?"

_____

Liam’s muscles ached, his lungs screamed, and the cold gnawed at every inch of his skin, yet he refused to stop. The storm had become a living beast, howling with fury, each wave taller than the last, crashing down with a vengeance that felt personal. The water threatened to pull him under again and again, but Liam’s arms never stopped moving, his eyes constantly scanning.

Nothing.

Nothing but darkness and foam and chaos.

He felt it creeping in—the fatigue, the hopelessness. His body wanted to give up, to surrender to the cold and let the sea win. But even as despair tried to sink its claws into him, something flashed in the corner of his eye.

A blur of red.

Far ahead, caught between the folds of the waves, was something bright—something vivid against the dull greys and blacks of the storm. Liam squinted. His heart jumped.

The dress.

He didn’t think—he dove.

Pushing his body past its limit, he swam with all he had, arms slicing through the water, legs kicking against the pull of the sea. Every stroke dragged him closer to that flickering image. He could barely see her now, the red of her dress vanishing beneath the surface as another wave lifted and swallowed her whole.

"No! No, no—Mariel!"

He dived after her, breath held tight in his chest, the salt stinging his eyes, blinding him for a moment before he adjusted. He descended fast, deeper than before, the pressure squeezing his skull. There—just a faint silhouette ahead, her red dress like a flame in the dark, fluttering gently in the current.

She was sinking. Arms spread out. Motionless.

Liam pushed down harder, his heartbeat hammering in his ears. He ignored the growing pain, the burn in his chest, the cold wrapping tighter around his limbs. He reached.

His fingers brushed fabric.

Then—he grabbed her.

She was limp in his arms, her head falling against his shoulder as he clutched her tightly. He turned, kicking upwards with every last drop of strength he had left. It felt like hours as he fought his way back to the surface, the weight of her body dragging him down, the water pushing against them both.

Then—air.

They burst through the surface with a gasp.

Liam choked, coughing seawater, holding Mariel’s head above the waves. Her face was pale, lips slightly parted, and her eyes shut. He fumbled to check her pulse with shaking fingers, his hand against the side of her neck.

Weak... but there.

She was alive.

A raw, choked laugh escaped him.

"You’re okay... you’re okay..." he whispered, barely above the sound of the sea.

Around them, the skies had begun to shift. The clouds were still heavy, the waves still crashing, but patches of gold broke through—light glimmering on the water’s surface. It was that glint of light that had helped him spot her dress in time. Without it, she might’ve been lost forever.

He adjusted his grip, one arm beneath her back, the other stroking through the water as he slowly began to make his way back toward the ship. The Sea Phantom rocked in the distance, crew and companions scrambling along the deck, frantically searching the waters.

But Liam didn’t see them yet. All that mattered now was holding onto her.