[DarwinMorgan]

It has been several days since Darwin Morgan had first stowed away aboard the large shipping freighter bound for the United States. During that time, he has managed rather amazingly, to avoid detection by the crew by constantly moving his location. Finding his way below deck under the cover of nightfall, Darwin is holed-up in the cargo area of the vessel, periodically changing his location when members of the crew perform their routine inspections of the cargo to remain hidden. Salvaging only what edible scraps he can from refuse, he has become slightly malnourished as the pains of hunger coupled the withdrawl symptoms of his addictions to alcohol and nicotine ravage him daily. Now, as the withdrawls return stronger with each subsequent attack and his health seemingly deteriorating, he begins to doubt whether he will survive to reach his destination. As the ship rocks back and forth in the throes of an unforgiving ocean voyage, he hears the cold October winds howl above deck. The pain returns, twisting his stomach in knots and inducing vomiting. His head spinning, and struggling to keep his eyes open, Darwin reaches into his small knapsack for his penknife, one of the few remnants of his military life he has held on to, and begins to scrawl a message onto a nearby container, almost certain that he is on death’s door.

To Whom It May Concern,
My name is Darwin Morgan, and I am different. Some would say that makes me special, others shun me as if I am some cursed beast. It is only now, in my most desperate hour that I offer repentance for all the sins I have committed against my fellow man. I spent many years questioning why I was different, why I was chosen, but endless questions don’t change who I was, or who I have become. I search to understand the true nature of my condition, but it seems, sadly that I will not live to see those answers revealed to me. Whatever will become of my soul beyond this point is irrelevant, for I have never been one to concern myself with such things. Whatever nature has planned for me, I am deserving of. Perhaps its my past indiscretions that have lead me to this fate, whatever the case, this seems that that which led me to believe I was special, has led me on a quest for answers that will almost certainly be my undoing…

As the pain in his stomach grew, his hand became shaky and the knife he had been holding scraped against the metal as his unfinished message trailed off, and the knife fell from his hand, hitting the ground with a dull thud. The pain overcoming him, and his head starting to spin at an increasing rate, Darwin keeled over on the ground, curling into a ball, and slowly slipping into unconciousness.

[Kylixer]

Shadow

The past week had been uneventful for Shadow. Besides stealing from the kitchen, he had most of the crew believing the ship was haunted. Actually, that part was somewhat fun. His powers would automatically kick in when he slept, and since his room was on the bottom floor of the ship, it was always plenty dark there.

He would be able to sneak into the kitchen at night and get his food for the next day. He would sleep under the bed, so if anyone would check his abnormally dark room, they wouldn't feel him when the stumbled.

The oddest thing to the ship workers? They're flashlights didn't even work when they entered his room. This is what started the rumors of it being haunted. That, and the occasional noises from the crates outside.

This started piquing Shadow's interest. The noises had nothing to with him. One night he decided to see what was causing them. He was wandering the ship's deck, his backpack slung over his shoulder, which held some pilfered food, and two canteens of water.

He found a man in one of the compartments. Kneeling over him, he dumped the contents of one of his canteens over the mans head.

"Time to wake up, bud." Said Shadow.