They'd set their alarms for 4AM to watch the sunrise from the balcony - the only reason they chose a starboard cabin in the first place. They didn't see the fishing boat at first, too busy staring at the beautiful hues dancing across the sky til that unfortunate little shape drew their eyes down.
The misfortune was about to begin.
There was no way they could have known at the time but as soon as that boat changed course to meet with their cruise liner, they were all as good as dead. Of course at the time they just thought the fishermen might need help and alerted the closest staff member to send a line down and help them board.
They might as well have killed the crew themselves.
It had scarcely been a minute since the first fisherman had boarded before first blood was drawn and teeth sunk into terrified flesh. The decks were bathed in blood within the hour and by the end of the day the whole ship had fallen into silence and the last body had fallen to the floor.
Some would wake up from this and join the others aboard the fishing boat, most would remain dead.
By the time the cruise liner eventually drifted into port, they'd been missing for nine years and while the blood had all dried, the flesh removed by ravenous seabirds and the bones thrown about by tumultuous waves, there was too little left for anyone to say what had gone wrong.
All they had were the final logs that vaguely mentioned a fishing boat in distress and then nothing.
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