Dragon Raja

60 - The Plague

Johann watched from the window of Sasha's captain's cabin, as instructed, where he could see the full view of the helipad. A sleek black helicopter landed in the center while Sasha, Vincent, and some of the crew members he could only assume were followers of the Far North stood on standby to greet the guest.

From Sasha's gatherings, the visitor was the highest-paying investor of the Yamal, who had practically built the ship and its beliefs from the ground up. Without his money and dedication to attaining whatever goal he sought, the Far North would not be anywhere near the Arctic.

Sasha gave him an earpiece meant for one of his men but suggested that the intel gathered from the Yamal's highest investor should prove to be of use to his mission. Johann zoned in and narrowed his eyes as the door to the helicopter slid open.

Johann had heard from Reginleif that there were special, expensive, tickets passengers could buy to stay aboard the Yamal to reach the promised land. Apparently, this investor bought a major supply of those tickets and handed them out to the passengers who weren't even hybrids or aware of the existence of dragons.

He had been expecting a rugged older man with tight lines around his eyes and frail fingers. To his surprise, Johann's eyes narrowed at the sight of the man who exited the helicopter. Dressed in a long black coat, he stood tall with a bottle of whiskey in his hands. But what startled Johann more was the black plague doctor's mask that covered his face.

What came after the man made his eyes widen as he stared at a pile of coffins, stacked upon each other like a pyramid.

Through his earpiece, Johann heard a mess of static before it finally tuned in to the conversation down on the helipad. Though it was faint, Johann could hear the raspy tone of the new passenger.

He stretched his arms out, his hands covered with dark leather gloves. Vincent approached the man with a sly smile. It sent a chill down Johann's spine.

"Welcome, Mr. Macallan!" Vincent said in his usual shrill voice, making Johann's ears ring uncomfortably. Johann kept in mind that it must've not been his real name, considering the man with the plague doctor's mask was holding a bottle of Macallan Whiskey.

"Your room is all prepared, please, take as much time as you need to rest," Vincent urged, clasping his wrinkled hands together. "I know your journey here must've been long and tiring—"

"Mr. Vincent," Macallan interrupted, "if I was here on a mere vacation, I'd take you up on your offer to rest,"

Johann watched Vincent roll his wheelchair back slightly. He seemed wary, and Johann could only assume Vincent must've been the slightest bit afraid of him.

"But you know why I'm here," Macallan stated with a low tone, "I want to see the beauty of the ship,"

Vincent could only chuckle as he shifted in his chair. Johann watched cautiously as Sasha eyed him from the helipad.

"The holy maiden has fallen asleep, but as soon as I wake her I can take her to come see you—"

Again, Macallan interrupted Vincent and clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "I already said this once," and his voice got deeper, a more threatening tone overcame him and eventually, Johann watched Vincent cave in.

"I want to see Maria of the Stars,"

-

The grand hall was as lively as ever, but the parties and events frequented so often Johann had begun to find them mundane.

Of course, save for the spectacle Reginleif seemed to always pursue, every party always seemed to shine brighter when she entered the room. She wore a dazzling silver dress that swayed whenever she danced and Johann watched her surround herself with rowdy passengers, like always.