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⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ Do you think the ship is seriously damaged ? ❞
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⠀⠀ This fateful question escaped his lips before it could be stopped, but even then, Bruce knew that his utterance was inevitable. Nothing less than outright denial of the aforementioned situation’s severity from Captain Smith would soothe the dread brewing within Bruce’s soul, nor stifle the sensation that his heart has sunk down into his stomach.
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⠀⠀An iceberg collision ! How utterly unfathomable a concept, how utterly bizzare! Bruce was well aware of the many potential dangers the sea held, yet like many, was lulled into a false sense of security by his status as a passenger on the mighty Titanic . All knowledge of man’s mortality vanished from the very moment that one boarded the ship of dreams, to the point that an occurrence as common as iceberg sightings seemed to him a mere fantasy.
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⠀⠀ Was he still dreaming, and trapped within the ironclad grasp of a nightmare? It certainly seemed so. Titanic was the largest and safest floating object in the world; surely, this collision would be no cause for concern. In just a few minutes’ time, the matter will be repaired, and 𝘛𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤 once again shall continue her journey to New York. His wondrous creation — the mighty palace within which he held court as the King of Maritime Shipping — wouldn’t be bested by a mere iceberg! Captain Smith needn’t worry about a thing!
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⠀⠀ Despite his confidence, Bruce couldn’t shake the peculiar sentiment that tonight’s events were crafted entirely by the hands of Fate. His mind was governed by an immense daze; for all intents and purposes, he was certain he would awaken within a few moments’ time. When his awakening inevitably came to pass, he’d be safe and sound in his own bed, nestled in the warm embrace of a blanket cocooon. The shiver traveling down his spine would be long forgotten. All will be well.
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⠀⠀ Captain Smith unflinchingly held his gaze, and the grave seriousness present upon the elderly man’s face gave Bruce pause. His heart began to pound, the anxiety within mounting with each passing second. Dear God, does EJ want to torture me with this silence ?! If torture was the intent, then it certainly was a success! The ever-impatient White Star Chairman crossed his arms, preparing himself to speak when his captain at long last granted him mercy.
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⠀⠀ ❝ I’m afraid she is . ❞
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⠀⠀ Beneath the many layers of the pride he held for White Star’s mighty fleet of marvelous ships remained a healthy dose of skepticism, embedded within his soul by the calloused hands of reality; however, this aspect of his character did not lessen the blow dealt by Captain Smith’s words.
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⠀⠀ Bruce blinked, genuinely stunned by his answer. A sensation akin to a stabbing by thousand of the sharpest of daggers pierced his heart, and were he a man of weaker fortitude, he would have staggered back as though slapped. Instead, he merely swayed as though he were a leaf blown about in the breeze. Was he on the verge of fainting ? It was difficult to tell, but such an assertion certainly seemed reasonable given his current state.
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⠀⠀ He parted his lips to respond, yet no words came out. His mouth was as dry as sawdust, parched to the same degree as the Sahara Desert. “Unsettled” could hardly even begin to do justice to his current state of mind, yet it seemed the only word worthy of this aforementioned task. Everything felt familiar about this situation — too familiar.
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⠀⠀ It was too familiar, because he has dreamt of this night before. In fact, he has dreamt of this nightmany times throughout the course of his life.
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⠀⠀ Bruce took a step back, shuddering. He wrapped his arms around his chest, as though this gesture could protect him from the horrors which evidently awaited them all.
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⠀⠀ No; this was far too eerie for his liking. Perhaps the dreams — he prayed they weren’t premonitions — w ere merely situational , produced by some other occurrence within his life at the time.
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⠀⠀ Bruce had no idea how long he stood there in that position, his mouth agape like a fish. For the first time of many more to come that evening, his entire world collapsed, ending in a cacophony of terrible, wretched fear . The fear was crawling through his body like some sort of demonic entity, but at the moment, it was not all-consuming. Not yet .
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⠀⠀ There was still hope. Perhaps the damage wasn’t entirely fatal, or another ship could be near enough to rescue his stranded vessel.
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⠀⠀ He must cling to this hope during these next few hours. Hope is his only means of survival.