Ghost Ship – Sunday Photo Fiction

AnElephantCant write something scary
Just because Al’s photo is a creepy old fog
He decides to have fun
Spread some jam on a bun
And run around happily like a multi-tailed dog

This is a weekly invitation to write a short piece of fiction (c. 150 words) based on a photo prompt (below) provided by Alastair.
Just click on the link to meander mistily through clouds of clever contributions.
But please first read AnElephant’s little feeble fumblings in the dark.

Copyright Al Forbes

Ghost Ship

Confusion and fear start to spread.
The men, brave men, battle-hardened men, are reluctant to venture into this fog.
Because The Medville, the pride of the fleet, lies becalmed, the crew nowhere to be seen.
They had full radio contact until it entered the fog, and then nothing.
The misty clouds have receded now and the ship has been thoroughly searched.
There are no signs of a struggle, no evidence of any hostilities having taken place.
But, like the Marie Celeste of long ago, it appears to be totally abandoned.
Its crew and auxiliary forces, over 200 men, seem to have just vanished into thin air.
Now, as the rest of the ships approach the fog, no one wants to lead the way.
Captain Partin, skipper of the Emerald Isle, wants to prove herself as brave and as competent as any man.
She gives the order.
Her crew take up action stations, the engines are full ahead.
She realises with surprise that the air is not cold and damp as expected.
She has no way of knowing that she has just encountered the weapon of the future.
She does not recognise that the air is swarming with carefully programmed nanobots until it is far too late.