The Legend of the Ourang Medan Pt. 1

(Note that I basically write this and post it immediately when I'm done, no editing is involved  or else it'd be a lot better)

 

 

The rain fell in droves upon the waters of the Malacca Strait. Dipper scanned the undulating ocean waves from the doorway of the schooner he had booked passage on the previous morning, wary of pirates. On the ocean, it was always pirates.

"I've fought about half as many pirates as Indiana Jones," he said into the rain, gripping the railing as the ship bobbed and swayed, "and I'm only twenty."

“Dipper!” Mabel called out from behind him. He turned. She and three of the burly Indonesian crew members were circled around a small wooden table bolted to the floor. “Come play cards with us! I'm killing it over here!”

She wore a bright pink rain jacket, boots, and her ever exhilarating smile. The crew members didn't look nearly as amused as she.

“Mabel, please don't get us thrown off the boat,” Dipper said, “I don't know what bizarre creatures could be circling below us right now.” He shuddered. “Remember Crater Lake?”

“Nope,” she said, “suppressed it like a pro. Don't mention it again please. You playing go fish or what?”

Dipper sighed. “Tell them the game's over. I need to speak to you alone.”

Mabel frowned, but turned to the crew and spoke in fast Indonesian. As soon as she was done. The three stood and walked out, looking rather relieved.

“Look, Mabel,” Dipper said, pulling up a chair, “We can't trust anyone, okay?”

“You really hung onto your motto from that summer huh?” Mabel said.

“Mabel, hush. We've run into enough crap to stick to it. So please, don't just hang out playing cards with three strangers. One of them could be a spy or something!”

“Psssh,” Mabel said, rolling her eyes, “as if. Check this out.”

And suddenly on the table was a very large caliber revolver, it's matte black finish shimmering in the dim cabin light.

“Whoah!” Dipper started. He glanced at the crew quarters and pushed the gun back towards Mabel. “Where the hell did you get that?” he hissed.

“I swiped it from that guy you punched back in Malaysia? The one with the eye patch?” She giggled. “I also drew a penis on his face.”

“Well, I'd be more upset but frankly this is probably a good thing,” Dipper said. “The legend of the Ourang Medan is pretty damn spooky on it's own, but with what we know-”

“We're probably gonna blast some ghosts,” Mabel finished, raising the pistol and pantomiming aiming it at something behind Dipper. He flinched.

“Actually,” he said, gingerly reaching out and lowering the gun barrel, “there's a bunch of theories. Everyone on the ship just up and died for like, no reason. And when the rescue ship came along, the ship exploded right after the rescuers took a quick look around. So yes, maybe ghosts but more likely some crazy conspiracy.”

“And there's the word!” Mabel said, laughing, “You said conspiracy! You owe me ten bucks.”

Dipper sighed and fished for change in his pocket. A single quarter dropped out, clinked against the floor, and rolled across the cabin floor. “Shit, wait a minute,” Dipper said, standing up and running after it. It rolled quite a ways, finally stopping against the metal wall adjacent to the doorway leading to the crew quarters. Dipper kneeled down to pick it up. He stopped moving.

“Whatsup Dip?” Mabel said from the table.

“Ssshhh,” Dipper breathed, holding up a finger. There was quiet murmuring emanating from the crew quarters. Carefully, he crawled forward to take quick peek inside the room. It was dark. He could see the outline of bunks and personal belongings in the shadows. The whispering was coming from beyond, where the crew quarters exited to the schooner's deck.

“Dipper?” Mabel's voice jolted him.

“Mabel,” he whispered, looking back, “stay here and keep the gun handy. I need to check this out.”

“Gotcha,” she said quietly, once again drawing the firearm and donning a pair of aviators from her pocket. “James Bond mode bro.”

Dipper ignored her and crept forward into the dark room, navigating his way around equipment trunks and evenly spaced bunk beds. In a moment, he was close enough to discern what they were saying. He cursed. He couldn't speak or understand Indonesian. He was about to turn and head back for Mabel when another, English speaking voice joined the conversation.

“Quit it. I don't need your doubts, just cooperation. As I said, we're far enough out that we can get rid of them. Even if they resurface, no one would find their bodies.”

One of the crew spoke, his accent heavily lacing his words, “So you say, but it is simple for you. We arrive in Medan with no passenger, we deal with consequence. Not you!”

The other voice explained how the crew could lie but Dipper had heard enough about his death. He made to move back and rejoin Mabel but stopped and checked his footing. There, by his foot, stood a solitary alcohol bottle. Like every movie ever. He gently picked it up and placed it on one of the bunks, then stole away without a sound.

He was back at the cabin in a flash. “What'd you find?” Mabel said.

“Bad news is the crew is plotting to kill us,” Dipper said, running past her and grabbing his backpack on the floor. “Good news is we get to row the rest of the way to Medan.”

“That really doesn't sound like good news,” Mabel said as Dipper slipped on his jacket. She began sliding her winnings into her Hello Kitty dufflebag.

“Well, neither does a bullet in the brainpan.” From his backpack Dipper drew the 1911 Grunkle Stan had given him last year. He slipped it into the holster sewn into the inside of his jacket and made for the door leading to the stormy deck. “Come on Mabel, we're out.”

They crept outside into the rain, heading to the stern where the two emergency boats were covered in tarp and hanging above the churning ocean. The deck was slick with rain and lurched treacherously with every passing wave. Dipper grabbed Mabel's hand at a particularly violent drop, keeping her from sliding back. “Thanks bro,” she said, flipping her drenched hair out of her eyes.

Dipper pulled her ahead of him. “No problemo.”

When they reached the escape boat Dipper lifted the tarp and motioned for Mabel to climb inside.

That alone saved her life.

The moment she disappeared beneath the tarp, bullets smacked into the metal beside Dipper. He released the boat clamp and all tension dropped from the ropes as the boat and Mabel plummeted into the dark ocean below. The tarp flew off, revealing a wide-eyed Mabel looking up at Dipper, an image that flashed before him as she dropped into the darkness.