Huff darts across the hallway, keeping out of sight. After having put the two powerful females down, from fear of what actually might have happened, her only choice was to escape the room. She peers back in the direction of her room knowing that Mejo and Tarnaa won’t be down for long. She continues to wonder about these feelings she had, before and after, feasting on Kat’s body. She shivers momentarily, the realization that she has taken a life, beginning to break her spirit. With another peek, she takes off again while this area of the ship is unoccupied.
Coming up to the entryway to the above decks, she hesitates. She doesn’t quite know why, and stares at the stairs that would lead her above sea level, the last rays of the day’s sun washing over the wooden steps.
Snapping out of an unknown funk, she takes a step forward, her hand reaching for the railing, her limb breaking through into the sunlight.
She instantly pulls her arm back, inspecting her arm, feeling the warmth clearly. There are no markings, no burns or blister, but she cannot deny the irritation she felt and slightly still does. Extending out her fingers, Huff slowly reaches her arm out again, a balled fist entering the sunlight.
It still burns!
She grits her teeth and keeps it in the light for as long as she can, using the pain as a conduit for the guilt that racks her body. Through teary eyes, she finally reaches her threshold and has to bring her hand back into the safety of the shadows.
Putting her other hand over her fist, the palm wrapping around her knuckles, she can feel the residual heat and burn. When she looks at it, her whole hand, that which contacted the sunlight, is red. Like a sunburn, even though she has been out in the sun’s rays before, her skin very much ‘sun kissed’. She suddenly feels so alone.
“It will only get worse.”
Huff, wiping the tears from her cheek, turns to regard Mejo, arms raised once again in innocence. Tarnaa is not with her, Huff glad that the angry warrior is not present.
“I didn’t mean to…” She says through a few calming breaths.
“I know.” Mejo nods slightly, her hands slowly coming down to her sides. “You do not have to take responsibility for what has happened.”
“I killed her!” Huff shouts. “I killed her..” She repeats, after Mejo motions for her to keep something like that quiet. “How can I not be responsible when it was I who drank Kat dry? I, who didn’t relent until she was void of all life?” She looks into Mejo’s eyes, Huff’s own filling with moisture.
“I agree.” Mejo consoles. “But, you were not this way. You were forced into this…” she ponders the correct term. ‘…lifestyle because of that shade who has taken over Torr’s body. HE is the one who is responsible. HE is the one who killed, what did you say her name was?”
“Kat..” Huff replies sniffing. “She told me her name was Kat.”
“Ok than.” Mejo, still keeping things slow and deliberate, places a hand on Huff’s shoulder.
“How is Tarnaa?” Huff suddenly asks, remembering nearly crushing her throat. She looks to Mejo with a sudden fear in her eyes.
Mejo responds with a pat on the shoulder. “Tarnaa… Will be fine. It will take a lot more to bring her down. Give her time. I believe she is only fearful that you will be unable to control your urges and act out upon someone else.” She begins to usher Huff back to the corridor, leading her back to her room. “I, WE, will figure this out. How do you feel at this moment?”
“Fine?” Huff answers after a moment of thought.
“And the urges?” Mejo continues the questioning.
“There are none.”
“Good.” Mejo smiles, but the next question will not be so easy to describe. “And the thirst?” They stop, the seriousness of the question needing an answer.
Huff closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Its there…” She opens her eyes to stare at Mejo, a frown creasing her lips. “It’s always there.”
Mejo, beginning to walk once again, nods knowing full well that it will never truly be sedated, only postponed until the next wave comes.
“What is going to happen to me?” Huff asks, a hint of remorse in her voice.
Looking off in the distance, Mejo cannot say for certain. She looks back at Huff and can only shrug in response. “I do not know what the fates have in store for you, but rest assured you have people aboard this ship who will be there for whatever comes.”
“Oh!” Huff, stopping her walk, gasps. “What about the body?”
“It has been taken care of.”
“Tarnaa?” Huf asks, knowing no one else is aware of this predicament.
“No.” Mejo answers, shaking her head. “I had Mighty take care of it.”
Huff does a double take. Never in her wildest dreams would she believe that the most quiet, inconspicuous crewmate would find his way into all this mess. She takes a moment to consider all the help she is getting, and will continue to get, and knows deep down she would do the same for anyone else. With no response available to relay her thanks, she smiles warmly and continues down the corridor with Mejo.
* * * * *
The day goes by and the ship pulls out of port without any more incident, the new crew members getting put to their new jobs, the others about in order to not tip their hand and let them know this ship probably wasn’t the best choice to join with.
But, after the next few days come and go, the sails full of wind, ocean as far as anyone can see, the captain is in the navigation room plotting out their next course. He stands hunched over the table, a protractor in his hand, turning it in an ‘S’ to calculate how far they have traveled, and how far they will continue on before the next stoppage.
“Aye.” Pirate answers as Alex enters the room, the man taking a seat and pulling it up to the table. He looks over the map once more and then looks to Alex, the frown on his face a dead give away.
“Speak yer mind, boy..”
After a moment to gather his argument, Alex notices something. “I don’t have to really tell you.”
“Ye do!” The captain answers. “I can’t be readin’ yer mind! If ya got somethin’ ta say to ole pirate, then speak it!”
“Fine.” Alex slams his hand on the table. “I know you can see how close our course puts as to Chum Waters.”
Pirate nods, knowing full well how close they will be to the shark infested island chain. The sharks being the least troublesome.
“What’s yer point?”
“My point…” Alex reaches over and taps at a specific island. “That is my point! You remember what happened last time we were on that island.”
“Aye.” The captain agrees. “I have no plans ta make a return trip, that be sure!”
Alex sits back, unnerved by the close proximity of their course. “As long as you know it is there, or rather WHO is there.”
The captain nods his understanding and continues to mark their course, staying left of the island chain. Going around a peninsula and continuing a run up the coast, he circles the next port. “Seven days. Six if we keep this wind.” He declares.
* * * * *
Another day passes, Huff’s absence played off as a ‘busy planning period’. Regardless, things are relatively normal, as can be…
“Watch.” Tarnaa explains, placing a piece of canvas up to the mirror, the article unable to pass through the mirror. Mejo nods, Huff, sitting quietly some distance away, watches as well. “But,” Tarnaa continues. “If I leave it out…” She places it down and backs away. Sure enough, through Torr’s side of the mirror, he can grab the canvas, the item now gone from their side.
“There!” Tarnaa exclaims, clearing her still tender throat, tossing a glare Huff’s way, but stops as she sees Mejo’s unrelenting stare. “Like I said. We can give him things without actually giving them to him.”
Mejoltman ponders the mystical properties of the mirror. To her understanding, she believes the ‘prison’ is magnificent. If there was a way to replicate it…
All three of them look at the mirror in horror as Torr, mid word, drops the canvas. What is odd is the fact that the hand holding the canvas has disappeared! To about midway to his forearm, there is nothing! Mejo shakes her head, one line from the shade playing in her thoughts.
“Every passing hour, he will become less and less…”
“He is running out of time.” Mejo, answering the riddle, states as she stands up. “The shade warned us of this.”
“Yeah..” Huff interrupts, taking a step towards them all, Tarnaa watching her, the warrior’s hand twitching as it is ready to grab her weapon if the need arises. “But that was nearly a week ago?”
“He has some fight left in him.” Tarnaa says, her vision back to the mirror where Torr’s hand has returned, the man flexing his fingers of his hand.
“Good.” Mejo claps her hands together. “As long as it returns, we still have time. Now,” She looks to Tarnaa. “I think you had better check in with the captain on the ‘party planning’.”
Reluctantly, Tarnaa not wanting to be relegated to a messenger, stands and leaves. When she is gone, Mejo turns to Huffette.
“Is it time?” Mejo asks.
Huff, not liking what she is about to do, nods. “It’s getting worse.” She frowns. “I don’t think this will continue to work much longer.”
“I agree.” Mejo confirms. She, too, feels the thirst isn’t going to be held in check much longer with their methods. She walks over to a blanket covered crate and opens up the lid to grab whatever is inside. She holds it tightly with both hands and sits next to Huff, a look of dread on the young woman’s face.
“Here you go…” Mejo says handing her the item in her hands.
Huff’s nose crinkles up, but she can feel the rodent’s heart being, very rapidly, in her hands. She looks to Mejo, her lips in a frown.
“Here we go…”
With a flick of the wrist, Huff snaps the rat’s neck while simultaneously bring it up to her mouth. With closed eyes she sinks her teeth into the fur, the pointed fangs finding the blood supply. She continues to feed, the thirst, for now, vanishing, and motions Mejo to grab another. Five rats later Huff wipes the blood and bits of fur from her mouth, repulsed by what she has to do.
The alternate however…
“Seven that time…” Mejo confirms with a worried tone. “Three more than the last time. I believe you are right, this will not work much longer.”
“We could make an excuse to sail into another port?”
“And do what?” Mejo asks, her eyes wide with shock.
Huff smiles briefly and nods. “I know, I know… But I will need to feed… for real.” She replays the emotions of her fist kill. She can still feel the excitement as if it was only seconds ago. After opening her eyes, she looks to Mejo with all seriousness. “And soon.”
“Come.” Mejo, changing the subject, suggests. “The sun is low. I think we can make an appearance soon.”
“But Tarnaa has already gone to tell the captain?”
“She has.” Mejo answers. “But I did not want her to see you like that.” A frown finds its way to her face. “She doesn’t like what you have become. With the attacks from the shade, she is on edge. I didn’t want her to explode in anger at the sight of you feeding, so I sent her away to spare her more pain.”
It is an understandable notion, Huff thinks, her thoughts going to the wall of anger when she had threatened her with that sword. She has to admit though, it felt good.
“Lets go.” Mejo says once again, seeing Huff rekindle the memories. “Some fresh air will do you some good.” She stands and begins to exit, calling over her shoulder, “And take that thing off. Your bite marks have healed themselves.”
True enough. Huff, reaching to remove the scarf, thinks. She could feel the skin sealing them shut days ago. She looks at the scarf, in her hands, and thinks of a time before all this happened. With a heavy sigh, she leaves it and takes her first step that will take her up above.
Once above, Huff hesitantly steps out, relieved to see the last remnants of the sun vanish on the horizon. She smiles as she feels more alive, more accustomed to being out here among the stars.
“Aye, there’s a good wench.”
Huff chuckles, turning to see the captain for the first time since the party. She curtsies slightly and walks over to join him by the rail.
“Glad yer sickness be ended and yer lazy bones has graced us.” The captain slyly continues. “How be the next party plannin’ goin’?”
Huff, confused since there is none, quickly remembers Mejo telling Tarnaa to do just that. “Its.. It’s going to be the best one yet!”
The captain nods, but watches her out of the corner of his eye. Something still doesn’t quite sit right with him and he wants to find out why that is. Before he gets a chance to do just that, Jazz, the young lad growing comfortable up in the crows nest, calls down.
“Ship ahoy, captain!”
The captain looks up to the crows nest to see Jazz, spyglass in hand, pointing in the vessel’s direction. “And closing fast!” He calculates the distance using the prefered method, unsure of his accuracy. “We will come to pass her in less than an hour.”
“Colors?” The captain asks, referring to the flags they are flying up on the mast, hoping that it isn’t a large warship all the way out here.
“There are none!” Jazz calls down. “Three masted, full o’ sails, skimming the water something fierce!”
Mulling over some of his options, the captain’s face is stern and unreadable.
“Mighty!” He bellows, getting the helmsman’s attention. “Take us to port!”
The mighty vessel begins its lean to the left, the prow cutting through the choppy water, spraying it up onto the deck. After the turn has been made, the captain eagerly waits to see what will happen.
“She’s matching us!” Jazz confirms moments later.
Alex looks to the captain, the two of them figuring out that this ship is not a coincidence. “I told you.” Alex says, unintentionally mocking their earlier conversation a few days prior in the navigation room. “We are being herded. SHE, is the sheppard.”
It seems that way. The captain’s knuckles turning white as he clenches his fists. He was baited in coming this way. The shade had made it happen, pulling the strings in order for them to dance.
“Aye.” The captain, finally acknowledging Alex was right, looks up to the nest. “Keep me posted! If she be moving, I wanna know!” He looks back down to Alex. “Ye were right, boy. Ye were right to be weary. We be walkin’ right to her.”
“Then let’s give her one hell of a fight!”
Pirate laughs, a hearty one, one not felt in ages, and quickly begins preparations. Orders fly, people scatter, and the ship continues on its collision course.
“Something in the air!” Jazz cries, all the crew stopping to come to the rails, a fireball soaring through the sky. It falls well short, the other ship firing to gauge their distance. They will be with in range soon than they believed.
“All right, ya scurvy rats!” The captain yells. “Ya gonna stand by and watch em sail in, or are ya gonna make me ship ready to blast that hunk of wood down into Jones’ locker!?”
The crew cheer as one, cannons ready, buckets of water fill, and then they wait.
“Another pitch in the air!”
The flying projectile, a ball of flaming pitch, soars in, but is off target, landing to the left of them, but dangerously close, the water spray just catching the tip of the boat.
“Hard starboard, Mighty! Lets see how many they got!” He knows what they are doing, corralling them, shooting the pitch so they will have to turn, right into Chum Waters.
The ship leans into the turn, the small islands dark silhouettes ominous in the distance. That isn’t the only thing visible.
“Fins!” Arlynne calls out at the rail. “Captain, there are fins in the water!”
“Curse my hairy bum.” The pirate says under his breath. Perhaps his luck has finally run out? Everything indicates a meeting with HER once more, and to top it all off, it is playing out the same as all those years before.
This time will be different.
Or will it? He thinks, another ball of pitch hitting the water, the hissing protest caught in everyone’s ears.
“Twenty five hundred meters and closing!” The call comes down from the crow’s nest.
Stuck somewhere in between the past and present, the captain looks around at the crew, wondering if he could do to these sea hags as he did to his first crew. He shakes his head after careful consideration. No, he decides. He was young back then, but now, looking at Alex -the man who is nearly like a brother – then to Huff, the woman who has broken away the hard crusty exterior and allowed him to have fun in this life, after all, we only get one.
“No.” The captain says out loud, others standing by awaiting what will come next. He focuses his attention, a grin coming to his lips.
“Put us alongside her, Mighty!” He ignores the hard, exasperated stares. “That ship wants a fight? Then let’s dance!” He looks up to the crows nest, Jazz almost reading his mind.
“Two thousand and closing!”
“Lemme know when she be five hunnered out, my boy! We be fillin’ her so full o’ lead them damn sharks won’t be knowin’ what to make of it!”
It goes on for several tense moments. The silence on deck, except…
…is deafening, only the lapping of the waves telling them that they are still moving at a swift pace.
“Fire a warning shot, Taybug!” The captain commands, the new deckmate lighting the cannon’s fuse. When it burns down they all brace for impact, the loud explosion making a few, who are near, ears ring.
The cannonball soars through the air and plummets down into the water.
“Again!” The captain bellows.
* * * * *
On the deck of the other ship, the crew stare blankly, unblinking, unmoving, as the projectile falls to the dark waters. One of them, not a mindless zombie, raises his fist into the air.
“That’s the spirit captain!” Malakai states as he watches the second shot, too, comes up short. “Look alive men!” Malakai chuckles, the men undead creatures, at his own wit. “The crewmates on the other ship have something you want. Brains! Intestines! It is a real buffet over there!”
That starts a murmur through the deck, each zombie groaning and grunting.
“Come and get it captain, come and get it.”
* * * * *
“She’s in range captain!” Jazz cries, nearly dropping his spyglass.
“Fire away me hearties! Fire away!”
One after one, another after another, the cannons fire off their wicked death balls, each one traveling the distance to smash into the hull, the mast, sails, and decking of the ship. Even a zombie or two are taken out by the missiles. After the initial volley, a second one comes at them, doing even more damage.
“She waves the white flag!” Jazz states.
“Prepare boarding planks and grapple hooks! Prepare to board!”
The crew, eagerly awaiting protocol, watch as the damaged, and taking on water, vessel is alongside of them. Planks go out, grapnels are fastened and the crew begin boarding the ship.
To find no one.
The captain, as well as the others, weapons in hand, are ate a loss. How was this thing moving at a tremendous clip if no one is aboard to man the helm?
A slow, methodical clap begins, Malakai coming out from the captain’s quarters. He continues to clap, grinning and walking to stand several feet away from the captain and crew.
“Well done, sir! Well done. My little ship didn’t stand a chance against your vessel, captain.” He bows dramatically. “I commend you and your crew on a job well done!” He opens his arms at the completion of the sentence, Malakai spotting Huff, still present, but keeping her distance.
“Huffy!” He motions for her to come closer. “Please, join us, wont you?” His grin fades when she shakes her head. “I insist.” The grin returns moments later, nearly in his ears. “After all, don’t you have something to tell the good ole captain?”
All eyes turn to Huff, Mejo and Tarnaa knowing exactly what he is hinting at. The captain laughs, bringing everyone back his way.
“Yer tricks aint gonna work this time.”
Peering over the captain’s shoulder, Malakai glances at Huff, still unmoving and hanging towards the back. “Maybe we should show them what you really are?” Malakai teases, still grinning.
Huff inches back, mouthing ‘No’.
“Now that be it!” The captain growls, grabbing Malakai’s shoulder. “Get yerself back Torr’s body and get ye gone from here. Never to see ye again.”
Malakai, enraged that the captain would be so bold as to lay a hand on him, slowly reaches for a concealed dagger on his hip.
“…And damn that witch too!” The captain finishes, the first part lost with in the shade’s rage.
In what seems like a blur, Malakai slashes the captain’s left arm, the one holding him, drawing a gash from elbow to wrist. The captain lets go and clutches his torn arm, blood running down its length to drip onto the deck.
“Ye bastard!” The captain roars.
“Oh just you wait, captain!” Malakai proclaims with a sadistic glee. “The show is just beginning!”
Instant and oh so alluring, is intoxicating to Huff, but what sets her off is the view, just as a crewmate shifts to the side of the flowing blood. She hungrily licks her lips, her eyes beginning to fill with red spider web like veins.
“Huff!” Mejo calls out, trying to bring her back in control. “Huff, resist it! You can do this!”
The words, so distant, go unheard in her ears. All she can hear are the droplets hitting the wooden deck.
Thoughts of feeding on Kat assault her, this human blood far better than the roden blood she has been using. Inside her mouth she can feel the teeth beginning their transformation.
“HUFFETTE!” Mejo screams, trying to break through.
A feral growl escapes Huff’s throat, the woman no long Huff, but the vampire she has become. With what will power she has left, she stands there only watching the blood.
Seeing Huff turn before his eyes, the captain, still holding his bloody arm, cocks an eyebrow. “Aye now. What be this?”
Malakai bursts into laughter, clapping his hands at a job well done. “What, captain? You didn’t know, Huffy there, was a blood sucking demon of the night?” The captain turns to regard the claim. “Mejo and Tarnaa knew about it as well!”
The proclamation causes the captain to turn back, catching Mejo and Tarnaa’s gaze, Mejo’s apologetic, Tarnaa’s a mask of anger since she had wanted to speak out about this.
“It appears this ship, no this whole crew, has been keeping secrets from you, captain.” A chuckle ensues before he stops and eyes the captain directly. “But they are not the only ones keeping secrets, are they, captain?”
The captain’s lip twitches as he feels the cat is nearly free from the bag, his only thought at this moment in time is shoving his fist down this thing’s throat. Subconsciously he knows Torr would suffer because of it.
“Ladies and Gentlemen…” Malakai begins with a dramatic sweep of his arms. “Your captain has lead you all to your inevitable doom. A fate that has been repeated some years before. It was near this very spot where your beloved captain abandoned his old crew, all of them dying horribly. All so he, and…” He looks at Alex, mockingly pouting. “Big, brave, Alex..” he returns to normal. “So they could escape and live another day.” He begins clapping once more. “Bravo! Bravo, captain. How is that working out for you, by the way? Hmm?”
Fed up with all of it, the captain takes a swing at the laughing face.
It is stopped halfway as Huff, quicker than anyone had noticed, grabs the limb, the force of her grip causing the captain’s face to grimace slightly.
“Aww. That’s too bad.” Malakai frowns, his bottom lip stuck up as he mockingly pouts once again. “I can feel how bad you wanted to slam that fist into my face, but thankfully for Huff here, she saved Torr the pain and suffering you would have caused. I tell you this, now and only once. If you cherish Huffy’s life and want her back to normal, than you know what you must do.”
Looking at Huff, a profound sadness washes over the captain. This new ‘slavery’ is not befitting a future Queen of the Seven Seas.
“Come to the island, Greg.” Malakai, using the captain’s real name in order to get his full attention, pleads. “You have someone there who could help reverse the… condition she is in.”
Huff, shaking ever so slightly, lets go and grabs the bloodied arm, the fresh scent filing her nostrils, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. She opens them suddenly and licks the red liquid from the wound, savoring the sweet, sweet taste of his blood.
She then screams in denial as a sword enters her kidney, its tip exiting through her front near her hip.
Tarnaa, tired of no one doing anything to stop this from happening, no one doing anything at all, acts out in denial of the abomination that is Huff. Without hesitation, and Mejo’s proximity to stop her, she did what she has been trained to do. She looks down at her sword, buried to the hilt in Huff’s lower back, thinking it will be over soon.
“TARNAA!” Mejo calls out as the action had taken place, the woman totally shocked at what has transpired.
A growl, one of pain and absolute anger fills their ears and can be felt in all their chests.
Suddenly Tarnaa looks down at her blade once again to see it slowly sliding back out the way it had came in!
With a rage too powerful for Tarnaa’s braun, Huff grabbed ahold of the blade in both of her hands, her strength no match for the warrior, and had begun to push it back through the wound in her body.
Everyone, totally shocked and unable to do, or say, anything, gasps at what is happening.
When the hands are close enough to her stomach, Huff suddenly yanks and turns away from the weapon, the blade slicing through and out of her body. She instantly turns to face Tarnaa, the bloodshot eyes signaling that her death draws near.
“Ah, ah, ah.” Malakai interjects, placing a hand on Huff’s shoulder, the woman’s hand still holding onto Tarnaa’s sword blade. “Lets let them go, for now.” He whispers into Huff’s ear. “I promise you there will be more bloodshed to come.” He removes his hand and backs away from her, bowing deeply.
“This has been fun and oh, so entertaining! But, alas. We must make our exit.” Huff, still eying Tarnaa with hatred, releases the blade by throwing it downward, Tarnaa’s overbalanced stance causing her to stumble forward.
“Besides…” Malakai continues, Huff standing beside him. “The crew of THIS ship doesn’t take kindly to the fact that you have ruined their fine vessel.”
Slow at first, but rising in volume, a groaning and grunting, snarling and foreboding sounds are heard throughout the ship, through the decking, deep inside.
Malakai laughs at the growing volume, and at the crew who are nervously looking around. With a snap of his fingers he opens an extra dimensional doorway as the first score of the zombie crewmen begin to emerge from doorways, holes in the decking, and inside, behind crates.
“I’d, WE’D, love to stay..”
The captain, looking, never really leaving, at Huff, watches as Malakai boasts, both of them walking through the doorway, the portal closing and blinks from existence.
Sounds of metal ring out, the battle underway, filled with the continuing drone of the undead. THe captain, oblivious to the scene around him, continues to stare at the spot where the door once was.
He never registers the voice, his mind fixed on the thought of never having those exotic, elaborate parties ever again. Sure, he would argue, bitch and complain, even threaten punishments, but deep down he enjoyed them thoroughly. He would love to wake up, knowing the reason his toes were painted pink was because of her, the closest thing he has had to having a daughter.
“GREG!” Alex yells, his ax slicing through the stomach of the zombie poised to take the captain down. He spins around, the trailing axe in his other hand scalping the thing, its body crumbling to the ground atop its spilt entrails.
“Greg!” He yells again, stepping in front of him so he can look him in the eyes, the sounds of fighting beginning to register in the captain’s mind. “We…”
He kicks straight out, to the left of the captain, hitting a zombie in the chest who would have taken the pirate down from behind. Alex follows it up with an over head chop of one axe, burying it into its skull with a loud CRACK!
“We have to get back to the ship.” Alex finishes, seeing that he is still not moving. He puts his axes into their leather holders and grabs the man’s shoulders, shaking him violently. “Snap out of it man! She’s gone! Huff is gone..”
The mention of that all true confirmation brings the life back into the captain. His once distant stare replaced with a steely resolve. He pushes Alex to the side, impaling his rapier into the face of an attacking Zombie, pulls it out and cuts its head from its shoulders before the body has a chance to fall to the ground. He turns around to see Alex’s grin.
“Lets get em..”
“There he is!” Alex shouts, the two of them running in to join the massive melee all over the deck. Screams of death echo in their ears as the brave souls give their lives, each of them doing it with the honor, and privilege, of sailing with such a man.
Blood splattered, covered, and wounded, the remaining crew members join up together, as one, while the endless horde of undead still file out from the depths of the, now slanting – the ship taking on A LOT of water – vessel.
“It’s been one hell of a ride.” Alex says, the captain standing shoulder to shoulder beside him.
“Likewise ye damned, stubborn mule..”
Outnumbered by a ratio of four to one, they all back into the middle of the deck, the large center mast at their backs.
“If this truly be the end…” The pirate begins, seeing the overwhelming odds. “Ye are all lumps of worthless barnacles!” The jovial attitude, joking in the face of certain death, brings a smile to his blood covered face. His last thought is of Huff, the woman exiting through the dimensional doorway, the disappearance like a door being slammed inside of his heart…
Buried At Sea by Matt Wright is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Based on a work at https://www.atramentous.net.