I think that my palms are rough with the texture of never having worked a day off in your life. The scent of money, lush and heavy, obscures the scent of fear that fills the room with a foul and menacing undercurrent. Like oceans deep, things beneath your notice stir and twist, reaching out to grasp at the edges of reality. The storm is coming down harder now. Tentacles curl amongst the waves. Do you feel safe here? The ship may hide the rocking of the waves, but the storm drives them higher regardless.
Hand in hand, we'll walk this ballad. The steps come as if from a dream, automatic and mechanical. Forwards and back, matching the dance of fingers on piano keys, the sway of the invisible things in the corner of your eyes. I think it would be best if your eyes stayed rooted to me, such that you couldn't see past my face. Let my eyes fill your vision. Let my touch fill you as I guide you around the room, navigating the perilous path between the others.
Keep your head steady above and your hand still on the small of my back. Pull a little, if you like. We'll twirl now. The music is picking up. That's normal. Someone must've signalled that it was time. Catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as we spin, whirling by, your wet hair splaying out, the sweat clinging to the back of your neck. Your suit hugs tightly around that soft body, the image of your naked flesh hanging unspoken in the mirror.
Forwards and back, step and step. Follow my lead. Go when I push and come when I pull. Watch your feet, no need for the crunch of bones beneath my toes. We'll dance now and forever. The storm is growing higher outside. The windows creak and scream as the waves pound against the hull, great ringing hammers in time to the music, adding the driving pulse of the movement. What will you do when the lights dim and the chaos starts?
Feel the roughness of my palm against your cheek, rubbing salt into your bloody wounds. It all combines in your ear, the mad tapping drip of droplets on the wooden floor, the creak of the rapidly dissolving ground, the frenetic pace of the music. We're burning the candle at both ends, snuffing every match. The heat flows from the world like rats from a sinking ship, rats from this ship. Your gaze skips over the bared knives and sharpened fingers, unable to even process the threats.
Perhaps the snide laugh of old money can cure all ills. Throw another dollar onto the bonfire. We'll catch it in our teeth, picturing your throat the whole time. Link our fingers together for the dip, trust in my frail bones to suspend your weight. We'll hang for just a moment, just long enough, before you're back up and spinning under my arm, whirling around at my command. I'll weave my fingers into yours, an unbreakable bond. The stitches down my spine fray against shaking hands, against the screams dying in my throat. Back and forth we go, rocking and swaying. And in the background, that eternal music, that perfect tune, the sounds of misery poured through the most expensive instruments money could buy.
I cast you from my hands now for the trade. We'll shuffle you from person to person, stained dress to torn suit. We'll trade you down the line, hands clapping your back, pushing you in circles until you're too dizzy to stand. Fall back into someone's arms, anyone's arms, those you could never see. There are dark clouds in the corners of your eyes, whispers in the back of your head. Hands wrapping your arms, pulling you upright again, sending you forwards. Staring past lips sown shut, eyes squeezed closed. Tears rain from the windows, the pressure of the room already breeding cracks in the glass. Thunder crackles as god plays along. Exposed bones jab your hands and pull you along again.
Faster now, the music is going faster. Step forwards, step back. Watch tightly, the claws swing closer, threatening to rend your legs. His hands are blades, cutting your fingers. The grimace of pain is a perfect mirror to the one you already possess. Spin together. Touch each other. The way his flesh caves as your hands round his back, sinking inwards towards soft and blackened bones. Your touch is what will ruin him, what will consign him to an eternity beneath the waves. The rotting spirits, salty and dripping, burst forwards tonight.
And back to me, the safety of my arms, the gentle pull of safety. I'm familiar. Your eyes can rest on me, can avoid the darkness that surrounds the room. The mess vanishes behind the crowd, behind the swell of unfamiliar bodies, the pressure of social dynamics you cannot unravel. Reality is what we make of it. You might stop to wonder why I'm soaking wet, why the scent of salt and seaweed ripples off me. Why is the whole room choking in this miasma?
Don't think about it. Don't forget to rest, to drink, to be merry. The glass, now empty drops from my lips, shattering under the quick footfalls of the surrounding dancers. My lips, black stained and swollen find yours, enveloping your throat, ripping my way into your stomach. I'm pulsing inside of you, twitching with all the force I can muster. We're whirling faster. Back and forth, our feet narrowly missing each other, questions flying over my back and ignored. Do the others see it too?
The song is approaching the climax as I hold you yet tighter, the knife pressing into your back and you start to struggle. Perhaps you thought you could merely split me in twain. Perhaps you simply thought that I would be loyal forever. Trust, as all things, is as misplaced as your confidence that metal and wood could keep out the rage of the oceans. The acid bath that chokes the great propellers, that forces its way onto the deck, sweeping sailers into the depths is merely the start.
Do you think the pianist will stop as the water crashes through windows? Do you think the music will cease as the metal buckles sideways? Do you think the dance will end as the depths has its revenge? How much do you have to pay a person to keep you smiling as you die? How much do you have to pay for them to keep laughing as your life jacket inflates, carrying you away from their arms? Do you know what it costs to keep the salt out of metal, out of leather, out of skin?
The ship cracks in two and we lose each other in the waves. The rats, the shadows, the fleeing children, all of the dancing echoes collide. Kiss me now, kiss my lips. The waltz is perfection incarnate, music lost to the howling storm. The beast is roaring. The lightning is flashing. The boats dance in the waves. Sink, damned one. Sink with me. Sink into my arms. Sink into my eternal embrace.
I'm grinning, teeth bared, skull hanging out. My hair is long gone. A crab wrestles through my bones, the chattering of my teeth muffled by the water. I'm holding you close, your dissolving flesh plucked by fish and creatures vast. A tentacle curls through the room, pulling it tighter, pulling it shut. Feel the money rot, useless now. The waves caress us gently. Far above, the sky brightens. We're dancing to a song that only you can hear.