WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE

"Hannah, I don't think this is the right place," I said, fear lacing my voice.

"Well this is the address Corey gave me," she snapped. "Calm down, Jessie. It's fine. We'll just ask someone for directions."

We were supposed to be at the the docks closer to the country club, I was sure of it. That was where all the rich people kept their yachts and sailboats, like the one Corey had. Hannah was walking off towards one of the fishing boats parked by the rickety dock, her blonde ponytail swinging back and forth.

"I think he gave you the wrong address," I said quietly. The poor girl was so head over heels for this guy, she couldn't even see that he was pulling a prank on her. This was a trap and the party he'd promised us was the bait. He was probably waiting somewhere in the bushes, planning to jump out and scare us and put the video on YouTube.

"He did not," she insisted. "Now hurry up." She waved a hand for me to follow her as she carefully stepped onto the fishing boat.

I breathed out a heavy sigh and followed, gulping as I heard the sound of water underneath me. It was deep and black, even this close to the mainland. I didn't even want to think about what sort of fish were lurking under it.

Hannah was impatiently waiting for me on the deck of the ship and she outstretched a hand to help me up from the dock. I gratefully accepted the help, holding tightly onto her hand as I stepped up and across the small gap between the wooden docks and the water.

"Is anyone even on this boat?" I asked, voice wavering slightly. The sun had set a few minutes ago and the last rays of light were starting to disappear with it. "I think everyone has gone home by now."

"I thought I saw a light on. Someone has to be here," Hannah responded.

I hadn't seen any light and I was wondering if she had either, but I wouldn't argue with her right now. She'd search the ship and then they could leave once she saw that no one was here.

There was a sudden metal clanking, followed by a few thuds of footsteps coming from the lower deck. The footsteps grew louder and louder, making me grab Hannah's arm and tug her towards the edge so we could get off the ship. She yanked her arm out of my grasp and stepped closer to the door, waiting on the mysterious sound to reach the top and open it.

The rusty door opened with a creak and a rather large man holding a couple of fishhooks and a metal bucket appeared in the doorway. He wore a flannel shirt and large brown boots. His yellow apron was splattered in what looked to be fish blood.

"What can I help you girls with?" He asked, his voice deep and gravelly.

"We need directions," Hannah stated. She was never afraid of anything, but even this blood splattered man who smelled strongly of fish and death.

"I have a map down on the lower floor. Follow me." Without another word, the fisherman turned and went back through the doorway he'd come through.

"Hannah, I don't think we should go down there. Let's leave and try and get some cell service so we can-"

I was cut off by her walking away and following the man down the stairs. I stood there a moment, considering my options. I looked back towards the exit, the safer option in my opinion. After taking a deep breath, I turned and walked down the creaking stairs leading to the lower deck. What was the worst that could happen? It was just a fishing boat after all.

I hurried down the stairs to catch up with Hannah and the fisherman. The lighting was dim and the stench of fish and blood was even stronger down here.

"Where is this map of yours?" She questioned as we were led down a hallway and down another set of stairs. This ship was much bigger than I had first thought. We must be on the lowest floor by now.

"Right through here," the man grumbled. He pushed a door open and we were led into another room. Fish were everywhere, in buckets and barrels, ready to be cleaned and processed. Hanging from metal rails were larger fish, tuna and swordfish. Towards the back there was something else, but I couldn't quite tell what it was, perhaps some sort of eel or shark.

However, nowhere in the room could I see a map. That was when it became very clear to both me and Hannah that we were not down here to look at a map.

The fisherman set down his metal bucket and gripped one of the large fish hooks tightly in his hand. Raising up his monstrous arm, he swung it. Blood splattered across the floor as the hook connected with Hannah's face, splitting open her cheek. A shriek of pain escaped her and she reached up, pressing a hand against the wound.

I stumbled backwards, eyes wide and mouth gaping open. It only took one more swing of his hand, again aimed towards Hannah's head, had her on the ground and apparently unconscious.

The fisherman turned to me next, and I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. My feet were stuck in place as I stared at him in shock. The last thing I saw was a metal hook flying at my face.

When I woke, my head was pounding and blood was trickling down my face. The world seemed to spin when I opened my eyes, so I closed them again. When I reopened my eyes, something felt off about the room. It took only a few seconds for me to figure out that I was not standing, but rather hanging upside down alongside the large tuna. Metal cables were around my ankles, keeping me hitched to the railings.

I turned my head, every movement sending searing pain through my jaw and neck, but I needed to see. Beside me stood the fisherman and I could see he was working on gutting one of the fish. I squinted, trying to get a better look.

I instantly regretted that decision.

Hannah's blue eyes were open and lifeless, just like the rest of her body which hung upside down beside mine. Her throat had been cut and blood was running down her face, dripping off her skin and onto the tile floor.

My throat felt like it was closing up and a small whimper escaped me.

The fisherman hummed a jolly tune that sounded out of place in this cold and smelly boat.

My gaze travelled from Hannah's face to the fisherman and what he was doing. He was holding what looked to be a knife, but it was hard to tell since it was currently buried in her chest cavity. Whatever it was, he was using to gut her, tossing out what he didn't want and saving some bits for god knows what.

Suddenly, his humming stopped. I met his dark gaze briefly, and a shiver ran through my body. He tossed another life of my friend into a bucket.

"Sharks love livers," he muttered, turning his attention back to his work. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you and your friend are useful."

Tears slipped out of my eyes and dropped onto the floor, mixing with Hannah's blood.

"Fish bait gets a little expensive. So we make use of everything we can get our hands on," the fisherman went on. There was a sickening 'plop' as he dropped something else into the bucket.

More tears began to spill out of my eyes. "Please, please, please," I whispered. "Let us go. Let us go home, please, sir."

My begging didn't seem to faze the man, and he kept on singing his song. "Fisherman are pitching pennies, in the sand beside the sea. The sunrise hits their oilskin boots..."

Sunrise. That was a nice thought. I focused on the sunrise, knowing that I'd never see one again.