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Dr Arnold sat the man down on his bunk and began an examination. “How old are you, Mr Dahlen?” he asked in English, checking the man’s pupil reaction.

“Thirty two,” the man replied, before turning his gaze on Captain Krauser. “I am gracious for your hospitality, Captain; but I regret that it has been a very long day, and I am very tired.”

“You can sleep when the doctor is done examining you,” replied Krauser. “And I do apologise for the loss of your friends and crewmates. That was one of the most aggressive sharks I have ever seen.”

Dahlen laughed, once, derisively. “You are not joking. Captain Krauser, I am not convinced that thing was not the devil himself, sent to punish the crew of the Freyr for whatever dark reason known only to itself.”

Krauser leant against the wall on the other side of the corridor and folded his arms. “Today wasn’t the first time you had seen it, then?”

Dahlen shook his head. “It started following the ship three days ago. At least, that is when we first noticed it. While we were working on deck, Øystein, another crewman, spotted the thing’s wake. He was excited at first, as he thought it might be seals or dolphins. He was a simple, young man, not long to the ocean, and such things were still a novelty to him. I remember he grabbed my arm and pulled me over to the boat, keen to show me. I saw no dolphins or seals, however. I did see a giant wake, and then, sliding up through the surf like a bayonet, that thing’s monstrous fin.

“I clapped Øystein’s arm and told him that it was a shark, probably a basking shark, which I knew were native to the area. Øystein was just as excited by this news as he was when he thought it was a dolphin. We watched for a moment, until the fin slid from sight, and then we returned to our work. At first I thought that that would be the end of it.

“It was later that evening that it attacked us for the first time.”

Dr Arnold hesitated as he prepared to take Dahlen’s blood pressure. “The shark attacked the freighter?”

Dahlen nodded. “Yes. It must have been about eight o’clock in the evening when there was an almighty clanging noise from down below. It was like a church bell, only underwater. My first assumption was that we had struck a sea mine. We knew that… German… submarines were operating in the area, and that some of them were capable of laying sea mines. Myself, the captain – a grey-bearded man by the name of Otness – and some of the men went down into the hold to examine the damage.

“We were not taking in any water but the hull was… it was definitely damaged. The metal had been pushed in and then pinched together, jutting and stretched about six feet into the hold.”

“Pushed in and pinched?” asked the doctor. “You mean the shark…?”

“Yes, doctor. The shark had attempted to bite the boat; and had managed to twist and bend steel in doing so. Of course, at the time, we did not even consider the possibility of the shark being responsible. Truth be told, I had almost forgotten ever seeing the beast.”

“What did you think had caused the damage?” asked Krauser.

Dahlen shrugged. “We are… were… not military men, Captain Krauser. For all we knew, that was what sea mine damage looked like. After asserting that we would not be taking in any water – at least for a little while – we left it until the following morning to take a look at the exterior damage, and carry out any repairs as necessary.

“The following morning, two of the engineers went out in a life boat, and went underwater in scuba gear. You know scuba gear, yes? Good. They came up and reported that the metal was buckled, but there was no sign of heat damage, which ruled out the possibility of a sea mine, as far as we could tell. One of the men, Marcus, held up something he had found, though. It was a tooth.”

“A shark’s tooth?”

“It looked like the tooth of a shark, but…”

“But what, Mr Dahlen?”

Dahlen fished a sodden packet of cigarettes from his pocket and flung them aside with disgust. “Once I met a sailor who had the tooth of a Great White Shark polished and made into a pendant. He claimed that he had killed the shark himself, although I have no doubt that he actually picked up the thing in a tacky marketplace somewhere. Shore leave, most likely. It was large, Captain, probably seven or eight centimetres long.”

“I have seen such teeth.”

“The tooth Marcus held out that day was easily twice that size. It was… monstrous. Captain Otness paled when he saw it, and muttered that it could not be possible.

“The next day continued without any sign or sound of our shark, until finally, again at around eight at night, we saw it. Marcus – the man who discovered the tooth – and I were having a cigarette on deck, when we heard an almighty splash, and turned just in time to see the creature’s fin break the water. Captain, this thing must be nearly thirty metres long. We saw it swim in a broad circle before submerging again.

“‘Should we tell the Captain of this?’ I asked.

“Marcus was rattled, but simply shrugged. ‘What is there to tell him? And if we do, what can he do with the information? There are sometimes sharks in these waters, and this is just a large one.’

“I knew he was just attempting bravado, as we both knew this was no ordinary shark. About half an hour later, the thing attacked us again. Why it chose to follow us, and to attack us, I don’t know. Maybe it could sense or smell the food in the cargo. Maybe we were just in its territory. This attack was much more aggressive than the first. It must have rammed us two or three times. I lost my footing with each strike, even when I managed to grab a hold of a rail or other fixing. Some of the men grabbed rifles and harpoons in the hope of killing the monster, but I do not think that such a thing can be done with weapons so small.”

“When, at last, the attack subsided, some of us once again went below decks to examine the damage. It was much worse this time. We were taking in water; slowly, for sure, but enough to cause concern. The metal of the hull had been mangled, chewed… Captain, the power in that thing’s jaws is simply unbelievable. Can you imagine trying to crumple the steel of a freighter with your teeth… your bare hands? I’d not hesitate to say that you would struggle to do it even with tools of your choice at your disposal.”

“A G7a steam-driven torpedo seems to have made short of work of it.”

Dahlen laughed. “After all I have told you so far do you still think that your torpedo is what sunk the Freyr, Captain? Maybe one of your torpedoes did hit us, but I can assure you that none of us noticed. We were all rather preoccupied, you see.”

“What happened?” asked Dr Arnold, breathlessly. The doctor had stopped his examination of Dahlen, completely enraptured in his story for now.

“At about nine-thirty, nine-forty five this evening…” he checked his watch, only to find it was busted. “What time is it, please?”

Krauser checked his own wristwatch. “Eleven pm, or thereabouts.”

“My god, has it only been an hour or so? How so much can change in so little time. Around then myself and Øystein were in the cargo hold, jerry rigging some repairs to stop the water coming in. It was secure, but still required some upkeep. The night was calm at first… but then it came.”

-SIX-

Dr Arnold had finished his examination of their captive, having found no injuries beyond scrapes and bruises. He was concerned about the possibility of cold and shock, however, and had helped Dahlen out of his soaking wet clothes before wrapping him in a woollen blanket to stave off the chill of the North Sea. An ensign arrived with a mug of warm coffee which he handed to him. Dahlen nodded his thanks and sipped the exceedingly bitter liquid with a grimace.