Crew Only

By Jon Moray

This story was first published online and in print for Morgue Blvd in February 2026, and is about a man that gets far more than what he bargained for when he and his wife are on a Caribbean cruise. Enjoy!

My wife and I boarded a ship on an 8-day Eastern Caribbean cruise sailing out of Port Canaveral, Florida.  My name is Jack Conine, former police detective turned private investigator and little did I know that this sea escape would turn into a supernatural missing persons case.

It was day two en route to St. Thomas, a British island, when a message came over the PA system by the Cruise Director.

“Attention all passengers, will Jake Thompson please go to the information desk and reunite with your wife.”

Jokes of ’man overboard’ permeated the sports lounge on the fifth level where I was, enjoying a little baseball, while nursing a light beer. I rendered a patronizing smile to the guy next to me making light of the situation. Moments later, the same announcement blared again. The jokes continued as my deducting sensors had me staring off into the distance with a raised eyebrow.

I decided to make my way to the information desk on the third level and nose around for some dialog intel. When I got there, I noticed a lady with frizzy brown hair stuttering through her concerns to security with rapid hand movements. I learned the woman was Janet Thompson, Jake’s wife. They were on the cruise celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary. She had mentioned her husband broke away from her to gamble at the casino. He was on a losing streak with each drink and he stumbled out the casino and wandered over to the theater where he was last seen by one of the cleaning crew whom Jake had bumped into and spilled alcohol on in his drunken stupor.

I meandered over to the theater to do some investigating. The theater was designed with a dimly lit, Mardi Gras theme, adorned with masks, and court jester faces and figures. I found the venue to be slightly eerie, but interesting. There weren’t any events scheduled until after dinner, so besides security and the Cruise Director, I had the place to myself. I was in and around the aisles with my head on a swivel. I looked up to the second deck without a vibe of doing any further investigation on that level.

I walked around the perimeter and stopped a at pair of double doors that displayed faces of a smiling minstrel woman. There was a sign below her likeness that read ’Crew Only.’ The delightful smiling image piqued my interest as I curiously jiggled the door handle to find it was locked. I looked around and saw the staff had exited the theater.

What happened next is nothing short of fantastic and unbelievable. I put my arm out and rested my weight against the door and began to hear ghostly humming and moaning. Before I could react, I was thrust through the door as if by a vacuum and then was sent into some kind of a pitch-black chute that tumbled me down, knocking me unconscious and onto a wet concrete floor.

When I came to, I was welcomed by a man, with a thick mustache and dressed like a court jester, decked out in black, red and gold diamond designs.

“Where am I,” I asked, groggy as my double vision slowly cleared.but battling the stench of day old sweat that seemed to enter my mouth that I spit out instinctively.

“You are in the king’s dungeon. You penetrated a portal that leads to this maccabre underworld, as did I. I am to audition to be the royal family’s personal entertainment,” the man said, blandly in a trance-like tone. I looked about the dark, flame lit cage, The cast-iron bars were bloodstained and smelled of rotted flesh. I studied his demeanor as interrogating questions swirled my head.

“Who are you,” I asked. A blank stare on a tilted head was all I got as a reply.

“Is your name Jake Thompson?” I dug deeper. He blinked as if something in his possessed conscious caused a tremor but his mouth stayed shut. Suddenly, he turned from me and worked himself into a ball on the floor, nestled in the dark corner of the cage as if it were his sanctuary.

I looked around my new dark surroundings and through the bars down a long stone stained corridor. A blink of light illuminated the minstrel lady I saw at the door at the furthest part of the corridor. The light went out and went it lit again, the minstrel appeared closer. Like an on-off switch, she disappeared and reappeared two feet in front of me, causing my heart to skip and race.

“He is Jake Thompson, the man you seek.” she whispered, with a sad, but welcoming smile. Her name was Margreeta and her face was off-white, with thick dark eyeliner and black cherry lips. Her tentacle headwear was black, red and gold with gold bells that faintly jingled.

I nodded slowly, in disbelief of the paranormal experience and my impromptu intrusion into this strange world.

“He was lured here by the weakness of his intoxication. He is now under the queen’s spell. If he doesn’t entertain the royal family to their satisfaction, he will be served to the lions and suffer his death.”

She looked upon me with black, arced eye liner, although I sensed in her gaze a real sense of concern for my well-being.

“I can help you escape back to your world, but soon you will face the royals who will try to trance you into their spell.”

“Why didn’t you help Jake?”

“I could not penetrate his drunken state. He was child’s play for the queen. But you can beat the trance, or you will suffer the same fate.” She put my hands in hers, and her concern turned to desperation.

“How do I avoid their spell?”

“When the Queen fixes her gaze on you, do not look into her eyes, do not study her eyes. Look through her eyes as if you were looking into her soul. As if you were in deep thought, a deep day dream. Let us practice. I will act as the queen.”

She released hold of my hands and took one step back. “Ready?”

I nodded as she looked into my eyes as if lasers would beam out of them. I did as instructed, but her periwinkle marble eyes shifted back and forth, and my eyes followed hers. Suddenly, I was frozen in my stance and was now under the minstrel’s spell. She slowly circled around me, sizing me up with her thoughts and, with a gentle touch, freed me from her bond. She turned her back to me, playing a harp that soothed my anxieties. I closed my eyes as her vibrated music was a relaxing massage to my mental condition. She ended her serenade with slow ebbing notes.

“Shall we try again,” she asked.

I nodded my consent, as she fixed her eyes on mine. I gazed upon her, allowing her lingering soft music to be my soundtrack to lead me into a hypnotic gaze though her eyes.

“You are under my spell, repeat,” she commanded.

I said nothing, as she waved her hands over my eyes. She clapped her hands twice, and my day dream, locked-in focus came to an end.

“Very good, Jack. I believe you will do well when it is time to meet the family.”

Just then, the current royal court jester made his entrance with gymnastic-like calisthenics. He easily slid through the iron bars and was now in our presence. His golden glossed face featured black dots over his cheeks and royal blue colors accenting his eyes and mouth. His clothes were baggy at the knees and were striped in violet, gold, and red. His headwear was tentacled without bells. He was the royal’s star jester.

“Who is this sub-human,” he asked the Minstrel, with a glistening smirk.

“He is Jack Conine. He has yet to meet the royals.”

“Well, it’s just a matter of time. The King has expressed a desire for more jesters.” The jester danced around me as his eyes ran up and down my frame. “Yes, I will train you to entertain the royals in typical day activities. You and your friend‘s intrusion means my role will only include master events. The lowly citizen entertainment position will be left to you two.”

“Josten, Prime Royal Jester, this man has yet to come under the queen’s spell. It is our hope you can help prevent this from happening.”

“Me, what motive do I have to help you and your putrid friends?”

“These people do not belong here. They have family in the real world, on land. They found our world by accident. It is my desire to help them return.”

“I have no desire to help you, my lady of illusion.”

“My powers cannot break the queen’s spell. The extent of my powers are teleportation and invisibility.”

“I am well aware of your powers, my object of desire. I do not wish to help you. Their intrusion is a great benefit to me. I must go and take the spelled student with me to prepare for his audition. As for you, Jack, the sentries are near to escort you to the royal family, and it is only matter of time when I will train you too,” the prime jester said, and easily lifted Jake over his shoulder, the cage, and out of sight.

Suddenly a pair of loud clomping footsteps came from the dark corridor. The sentries, clad in metallic blue armor from headwear to boots, marched into view.

“Your moment with the queen has come, Jack,” Margreeta whispered. “I will be with you at all times. My power of invisibility assures you of that. I will be standing behind the queen. When she gazes at you, look through her and stare at me. I will be visible to only you.”

The two sentries forcefully unlocked the caged doors and bound me in rusted chains at my hands and feet. Both led me by my arms, as their long dirt filled fingernails dug into my skin. They dragged me through the corridor and pushed open heavy wooden, iron barred doors into chambers lit for a séance.

The glow of candles shown upon the three members of royalty, the King of Spades, the Queen of Hearts, and the Jack of Diamonds, brother to the King.

The King of Spades was the first to approach me. His attire was of scarlet red and gold. A big black spade was embroidered on his chest plate and his crown glistened of black pearls. His slow gait brought me to shivers and his devilish grin overwhelmed me.

“Yes, he will do nicely,” he said, while turning to the queen. “Let us make sure the prime jester reveals all of his talents.”

The Jack of Diamonds was the next to come forward. He was clothed in hunter green and bright red attire from head to toe. A bright red four-sided elongated diamond adorned his chest plate. His demeanor was more of a person deep in thought, as if plotting his next chess piece move. He rubbed his chin as he perused me. He paused, and without looking back at his family uttered, “Perhaps, he will do,” almost in resignation. He stepped back and took his place to the left of the queen.

As if by theatrical effect, the queen, with her face magically illuminated, sauntered forward towards me. She stopped two feet in front of me, tilted her head back as if garnering her power of persuasion and then tilted her head down as she began her gazing spell. A flash of my minstrel friend sparked behind the queen as I met her challenge.

With thoughts of perhaps never seeing my wife again as motivation, I fixed my stare on the queen and through her. My focus was strong as I imagined Margreeta slowly dancing with her arms flailing on each side of her body. Her movements hypnotized me so much, that I failed to see the queen’s demeanor volley from pleasure to rage. The stare-down continued until the queen exhaled a trance breaking yell in resignation.

“Return this filth to the dungeon,” she screamed, as she placed the back of her hand to her head. The king and jack, led her to her throne in her weakened state.

I was forcefully led back to the caged cell and thrown down to the floor. Margreeta reappeared, humming a soothing tune of victory.

“How do we break the queen’s spell on Jake?”

“Familiar words, objects, visions…I’m not quite sure. The queen’s spell, once cast, has never been broken,” she softly surrendered.

“There has to be something I can say, do to break the spell. I told him his name…nothing. I’ll try his wife’s name and then I am out of ideas.”

“If Jake’s performance is unsatisfactory, he will be killed. You are now an enigma to the royal family. You cannot be killed and therefore cannot be trained because only those under her spell can meet those fates. You will remain a prisoner until other options arise for you. The prime jester won’t help us. I am afraid his life lay in our hands, Jack. Soon his audition will take place. I hope the jester trained him well, to buy us more time to break the spell.”

The echoes of the sentries footsteps returned. They appeared dragging chains with my name on them. Again, I was bound at my hands and feet.

“Where are you taking him?” pleaded Margreeta.

“We are taking him to the theater to witness the sub-human’s audition,” said one of them, mechanically.

The sentries led me to the theater that was exact in detail to the cruise ship theater except for the dark colors and torched lighting. The theater was filled with characters in colorful outfits, and painted faces. I was led to a large cast-iron birdcage to the side of the stage and was ushered in. The birdcage was then raised high above the stage. The mass of characters whispered about and chuckled at my condition.

A band of musicians trumpeted the royal family’s entrance into the theater. The crowd quieted and rose in respect. I looked on, mesmerized by the eerie coincidence in entertainment venues between reality and fantasy. When the royal family was seated front and center, the master of ceremonies, the prime jester, inhabited the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my dear royal family, submitted for your approval, my protégé in training, Student Jester Searus.” A smattering of listless applause sounded as the purple velvet curtain lifted. Searus, Jake, in the real world, bowed to the royal family, nodded at the prime jester, and then began his routine with a juggling act using stiletto knives.

His beginning was impressive, garnering applause but he dropped one when he tried to catch a knife behind his back. Disappointed looks were traded by the royal family as Jake continued with ballet-like dancing aided by an eerie orchestral soundtrack that included pirouettes in several revolutions. He attempted a seven-twenty revolution and landed on his butt when his ankle gave out upon landing. Sarcastic laughter permeated the theater, as the royal family grew more displeased.

While the show continued, I racked my brain for something of significance that can break Jake from the spell. The music continued and Jake broke out in song, slow in tempo with several octave ranges. His attempts to stay on note impressed me until his voiced cracked at the highest octave. Black apples were hurled from the balcony level and made their mark on Jake.

“Enough of this shameful performance. To the lions he goes,” bellowed the king, as he rose and shook his fist at the prime jester.

“Janet Thompson,” I yelled, to no avail. Jake slumped to his knees, resigned to accept his fate.

“Silence that man,” ordered the queen, as the bird-cage enclosure was slowly lowered. I looked about the theater, defeated that I couldn’t find the words to break the spell. Suddenly, the double doors similar to the ones that led me here came into view. The sentries reached for the bird-cage as it made its’ descent.

In desperation, I blurted out, “Crew only.”

Jake quickly turned towards me as if he had just heard a bomb explode.

“Jake Thompson, answer me.”

“Yes, I am Jake Thompson,” he answered, in a raspy voice.

“Seize those two and send them to the dungeon. Their fate will be slavery for eternity,” commanded the king, as the sentries laid hands on us.

“Wait, King of Hearts. I offer you a challenge,” I said, with authority. The audience collectively gasped at the audacity of my offer.

“You dare challenge me, slave?”

“We are not under the queen’s spell, so we cannot be killed. I challenge you to a game of poker to decide our fates. If I win, you release us. If I lose, I will fall under the queen’s spell and you will have the will to do with me as you please.”

“A game with playing cards? These cards were created with me and my family’s likeness. You are playing right into my hands, slave. I accept your challenge, and you will be under my lovely queen’s spell in no time. Sentries, return these two idiots to the dungeon and supply them with a deck of cards to prepare for their impending defeat.”

The sentries chained us and did as the King of Hearts instructed. We were then unchained and thrown in the cage. Margreeta, our loyal companion, magically appeared. Her four aces neck band simultaneously illuminated.

“We can sure use those when I face the king,” I said to her, pointing at her jewelry.

“The prime jester, who is also the joker in playing cards is the only one that can save you from the king’s hand. I have no power of persuasions in this duel between you and the king.”

“The prime jester wants an understudy. If I lose, I will be his new protégé. No, I don’t think he will help us,” I lamented.

Margreeta searched the floor for answers. Her shifty eyes revealed her helpless feelings. Silence dominated the cage until Jake finally spoke.

“Jack, we must prepare. I am a pretty good poker player even though my luck was lost on the cruise ship.”

I peered at him and for the first time he had a look of determination. He broke opened the deck and displayed an impressive array of shuffling tricks. We both sat Indian style opposite each other as Margreeta knelt between.

As we played hand after hand, Jake tutored me on many strategies and card sequences. Between hands, Margreeta disappeared out of sight. We continued on, making idle conversation and getting to know more about each other.

“How long do you think we’ve been here, Jake?”

“I feels like I’ve been here years before you arrival.”

“But that’s impossible, because we were on the same ship.”

Suddenly, Margreeta reappeared. “Actually, Jake is right. For every hour on Earth is a year here in the underworld. I just teleported from the royal family’s palace. The King has dispatched his sentries to take you to the theater for the card game. They will be here shortly.”

“Thank you Margreeta, and thank you for all you have done to help my cause. You are now dressed in gold and white, within the same design. Your aces are glowing all at once. What’s happening?”

“This is my victory garb. I have complete confidence you will do well tonight,” she said, as she placed her velvet gloved hand to my face, rubbing my cheek.

The annoying clomps of the sentries gait dominated the corridor as they drew near. “It’s now time,” whispered Margreeta, aided by a soft kiss on my cheek. “I will be with you always.”

The sentries displayed their power by dragging us by our hair to the theater. When we arrived, it was Jake’s turn to inhabit the bird cage, while I was set on a thick rotted wood seat, similar to an electric chair. Between me and the king’s royal chair was a black marble table suspended in air. The theater was full, but the audience was blacked out. Trumpets alerted the royal family’s arrival, first the jack, then the queen, and then the king. To each side of the king were royal chairs where his family sat.

The king sat and studied me with piercing dark eyes. His dimples seem to wiggle as his fixation on me was unwavering. The jester danced over to the table and slapped down a deck of cards, whistling all the while. He shuffled the cards much the way Jake did, but with a lot more dramatic flair.

“A game of poker, between slave and king, and psalms of victory will the winner sing,” serenaded the jester.

The jester volunteered me to cut the cards. Without hesitation I picked up half the deck and placed it by the other half.

“Slave cuts the cards and the game begins, the audience shall now see who surely wins,” the jester continued, as he dealt out five cards to the king and I simultaneously. The king grabbed the cards at once and studied them like if he was reading a newspaper at a bus station. I picked the cards up one by one, without looking up. The jester’s head went back and forth at us as if he were watching a tennis match.

“The crowd is frozen in stance, marveling at this game of chance.” The jester was beginning to annoy me with his rhyming limericks. I studied my hand, which had some promise. I sported two kings, a five, a four, and a three. I threw down the three numbered cards and the jester accommodated me with three cards, as he hummed whimsically.

“Slave throws down cards and orders three, in hopes these cards will set him free.”

The king huffed at the jester’s rhyme, while requesting only one card. He looked up at me and grinned in confidence as the queen caught sight of his hand. She smiled in delight and licked his face in appreciation. The jack caught a glance and nodded silent approval.

“Only one card your majesty desires, in hopes this slave will belong to the sires.”  Without looking at his last card, the king ordered, “Reveal your hand, sub-human.”

“You first,” I barked, locked in a stare.

The king returned his stare and brooded for a moment before laughter overwhelmed him. “As you wish, scum.” One by one he turned each card over in the order he received them. King of Spades, King of Clubs, Queen of Diamonds, Queen of Hearts, and ten of clubs.”

“Two pair, king high, the imperial displays, now it is time to show the hand the slave plays.”

I mimicked the kings one by one reveal strategy. King of Diamonds, King of Hearts, Queen of Spades, Queen of Clubs. I paused a moment and reflected on the severity of the fate the next card would bring. I caught a glance of sweet Margreeta, who glowed of positive aura. The jester looked on intently, nary saying a word.

“I looked to the heavens for guidance, and then slowly revealed my last card.

“The joker card?” huffed the queen, “it can’t be…he is under my spell.”

“Not any more, my lady,” joked the jester, who was also the joker. “Jack, or former slave, released me of the spell also when he called out ‘crew only’.”  We are all free from your spell and now you must release us.”

“Never, swine. You tricked me. I will release no one. Sentries, seize these fools.”

As ordered, the sentries did the king’s will and  roughly returned the now three of us back to the dungeon. There we sat bloodied and beaten, at a loss of what kind of strategy can be mounted next.

“I traveled on the same cruise alone. That is why no one bothered to look for me. My lust for Margreeta was my undoing, I didn‘t focus on her saving instructions,” explained the jester, who’s name on Earth was Jerry. I got here before Jake on the first day on sea. I’m afraid I ruined everything by deceiving the royal family.”

“Without your joker card, I would’ve been fated to their mercy,” I said.

Suddenly, Margreeta appeared, laughing like a school girl. “Is everyone ready to leave?”

“Leave,” I asked, perplexed.

“Yes, leave…return to the ship to enjoy your cruise.”

We looked about each other and shrugged simultaneously.

“Since the queen has no hypnotic powers over you, I can teleport you all from this underworld and back where you belong.”

“You needed me to free them, so you can free us,” I exclaimed. She nodded, almost in a bow. “Still, the king had a beatable hand…”

“When I disappeared while you were practicing, I teleported to the chamber and saw Jerry replace a rigged deck with a legitimate one,” answered Margreeta, with a confirming nod from Jerry.

One by one she bid us adieu.

“How about a kiss?” Jerry pleaded.

“How about eternal slavery?” shot back the minstrel.

She then stepped in front of me and looked deeply into my eyes. “Thank you for helping me help you,” she whispered in my ear and followed with a tight embrace.

She released her hold and instructed us to each grab a card on her neckwear. As we grabbed hold, we were instantly transported back to the double doors that led to the underworld portal and gone was our hero, Margreeta. We broke from each other to find our loved ones but not without me looking back at the doors with minstrel’s likeness prominently featured.

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