A Cold Smile
The captain holds up the little green bottle. His smile is cold, like wind off the sea. "Thank you, Tom," he says softly. "I'll take that."
Before you can run, he pushes you into the dark storeroom. The door slams. The lock clicks. You hear his boots walk away.
Your heart pounds. Above you, a tiny porthole lets in a sliver of moonlight. Below, you hear sailors coughing. There isn't much time.