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Captain Leviticus slammed the splintered remains of the wheel to port. The Ark’s masts groaned under the strain. “We’re getting close”, he screamed over the diabolical winds. “Fifth circle,” yelled the navigator, gazing intently into the orrery. Down below all the supplies rattled in the lockers; oil lamps flickered; a sulphur-laden mist seeped into every nook and cranny, making grown men weep tears of fear. “This is Mephistopheles’ domain”, yelled the navigator again. His shouts ebbed away into the crow-black night.

On deck, the captain ordered the cannons to be readied. He knew not when the encounter would arrive. The Watchman and Protector dwelt in the fifth realm. “Load the silver shot — look sharp,” ordered Leviticus, squaring himself up as he did so. …


Adam D'Souza

Traveller. Teacher. Occasional writer.

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