by Kell Inkston
“Not exactly what?” Colette asks with a light, professional-looking frown.
“Rough an’ tumble, lass,” he explains, “She’s not really a rough sort like us, an’ th’ mission could get bad, y’never know what kinda crazy hoodoo’s involved on islands like these. She’d get herself killed.”
“Interesting,” The Captain says, in a tone that none of the group find pleasing.
“What’s interesting?” Colette asks.
“Just the thought. Someone might die! How thrilling! I’ll call for her at once.” He turns for the kitchen, behind a metal port door like most others on the ship.
Colette huffs and raises up her hand to get in a word to stop him, but The Captain’s not the sort that is often stopped once put in motion.
“Cookhand Vereyrty, Are you prepared?” he calls.
There’s a light snort from the kitchen. “W-yes. Yes sir!” The voice calls back amidst the clamoring of metal from the room
Dunklestein scowls, his white fortress of rowed teeth lining his jaws curving inhumanly downward, Colette sighs, Jim smiles, and The Captain ensures he looks as professional as ever.
Pressing the door aside under the weight of cooking accoutrements, ingredients, recipes, and what looks like a very small icebox is Grancis Vereyrty, the girl Colette joined The Nocturna’s crew alongside, and an all-around “good person”.
She’s a smidgen taller than Colette, with pretty brownish eyes, gloriously-long brown hair that falls down to her shoulders— that is, when she doesn’t have it done up into a bun or something of the sort for work, which is most of the time. She’s nice looking by young-lady standards. Jim in particular thinks she’d be a better model than a cook, and she’s become a fairly good cook. She’s dressed down in a chef’s coat, and has tons of little nicks and pockets in her clothes that one might think where she hides her knives, or magic, or what have you, but in fact, she has nothing to defend herself with but her wits and her friendship to the people around her. She smiles often, which gets her a lot of admirers, and she also often smiles when she’s scared, and that gets her even more.
“Hi there, everyone.” She lifts her pack with a smile, “So you just want me to use the portable utensils?”
The Captain nods. “It’s just that simple, Miss Vereyrty. Mind yourself during our outing, as it will be dangerous, so keep your head about you,” he says as he leads them along.
She nods. “Roger, sir.” She takes a position next to Colette as she fails to hear Jim’s weak greeting.
“G-good morning mis-”
“Heya, how you been? Boris too much to handle?” Colette asks with a swift nudge to Grancis’ side as Jim mutters on.
Grancis returns the nudge, but it’s far slower, and causes no discomfort to Colette, “I’ve been wonderful, thanks. Boris is a really nice… red… guy… thing once you get to know him.” She puts her hands in her pockets.
Colette raises a brow. “Yeah, well he also tried to eat you a few times I’m pretty sure. People do like their food so it’s not a surprise he’s friendly- probably just fattening you up.”
Grancis giggles uncomfortably as they turn a corner along a path of trees. “Naw, be realistic.”
Colette smirks. “He’s a giant lobster, Grancis. Pretty sure that’s not out of the book when talking about him.”
“Well you do know-”
“Hush up,” The Captain says, raising his finger gently as they pass through the boardwalk, “we’re here.”
The center plaza is alive with masked merchants, men, women, celebrating and having a fantastic time. The rows of dancers are alight with candles, colorful flags, paper confetti, and joyous music—but the town is in dismal shape infrastructure-wise, as if they haven’t been maintained in decades. Vines stretch across the crumbling majority of the town, and no one seems to acknowledge the alarming amount of human skeletons piled to the side of the streets in alleys or under benches.
“Damn, somethin’ smells nice!” Dunklestein says, spotting The Captain twitch as if he is about to turn around and chastise him, but decides not to. Sure enough, the scent of barbecue and the snapping of frying vegetables overcomes the five while other sailors of the Nocturna approach to admire the banquet of senses.
“Indeed,” The Captain remarks while he taps the shoulder of a masked party-goer. “Pardon me, you…delightful man,” he says.
The partier turns around to them, pulling a sizable, meated bone from out under his mask. “Ey? Oh, hello there, new friends!” he says with a heavy, murky accent.
“Hello, sir: we’re looking for one that knows about the local antiquity and legends of this island. Would you know of anyone?”
The party goer hums to himself a moment, scratches his mask as if it were his chin, and then jolts up in realization. “Of course! You should just ask Vuuya! She’s the witch that looks over the town. What do ya’ need to ask her?”
The Captain and his sailors exchange solemn looks. “Well,” The Captain starts, “we need a book of hers.”
Immediately the party goer stumbles over his words and looks around; a few other masked folks start taking notice to the conversation. “Well, I mean. Vuuya’s here, but not some silly book. You guys probably have the… the uh, wrong island.”
“I’m certain the book is here, my fellow- and I’m certain we will have it. I’m sure she’s here and so is her book,” The Captain says, leaning into the masked man’s space.
“But… Yes, I suppose Vuuya can give you that book of hers; she can do anything, after all. Please, but I can’t take you to her tonight. The swamp is dark now, and quite dangerous! Filled with swamp men it is! They’ll eat ya’, eat ya’ guts! You should wait ‘til tomorrow. Let us show you some of our hospitality!”
Colette nudges The Captain. “I don’t like this,” she says in a tone quiet enough for only him to hear.
“Ahh, but I do, my little biscuit,” The Captain murmurs before addressing the islander once more. “We’d love to spend the night here, is there an inn?”
The partier looks around and points out a petite, also-masked woman sitting by the side of the square. “She owns an inn, I think. Sort of hard to tell people apart here. So you guys have fun and let me know tomorrow once you’re ready to leave. I gotta go find my kids; make sure they’re not causing trouble.” With that, he’s off to an empty bench, leaving The Captain to talk to the others.
“This is incredibly peculiar. But I think it’s best we stay on the island to see if there’s anything else we can learn from the innkeeper. That being said, I would understand if you would feel safer on the ship— especially with so many suspicious masked figures running about. So if any of you want me to take away your ‘sailor card’ you only need to ask.” There is a pause amidst the celebration around them. “Well? Dunklestein? Do you want me to take away your sailor card?”
Dunklestein laughs. “No, sir.”
“I thought not. Colette?” Captain asks.
She scoffs. “No, sir.”
“Lovely, Grancis?”
“What’s a sailor card?”
The Captain pats Grancis neatly on the head. “Never you mind. So how about you, Jim?”
Jim twitches. “No s-s-sir.”
The group turns to Jim with alert gazes as The Captain speaks.
“Jim, is he coming?”
“No… I’m okay… I’ll be fine,” he says, pressing his hand against his right arm in pain.
The four others stare at him with suspicion, but again The Captain breaks the silence. “Well, nothing we can do about that, then. Let’s get to the inn.” The moment The Captain turns away, Jim looses a deep, bone-chilling laugh.
“You… You fool-ass sons’a’bitches!” He begins screaming and hollering to get the attention of everyone.
“Captain! He’s turning!” Colette yells as the music and dancing stops.
Jim’s eyes are overcome with what seems to be a violent black fire, but Jim seems elated, rather than distressed.
“Jim! Snap out of it, man! This is incredibly-inappropriate behavior!” The Captain barks to the writhing Jim who fills his chest with salty breath and screams.
“Jim is no longer with us, Captain. However I did hear that you’re trying to steal this island’s greatest treasure! What do you say of that, imperialist dog? You thief!” Jim, or something inside Jim yells at the top of his lungs.
A chorus of hushed whispers erupts from the frightened party-goers for an awkward moment as everyone on the island learns what the mysterious sailors are here for. Some duck down the streets and alleyways to get out of sight, and others give the subtle, flinching tells of violent urges.
“Son, quiet down! You’re being just horrible!” The Captain shouts as Dunklestein and Colette exchange looks.
“Son? Wait, Cap, Jim is your boy?” Dunklestein asks, crossing his broad, sandpapery, greyish arms covered in awesome seafaring tattoos.
“I’ll… I’ll tell you when you’re older," The Captain dismisses quickly before turning back to the possessed lad. "Now, calm down, Jim, or you’re in for a distinct beating,” he says, cracking his knuckles the way he does to remind the thing possessing Jim of the distance between their strengths.
Jim laughs. “I’ve done my damage. Later, salt-ass,” at that, Jim wavers and falls to the cobblestone ground, unconscious. The Captain takes up Jim and turns to the cloaked innkeeper across the square. “Come along,” he says over the confused, distressed voices of the townspeople. They get up to the shrouded innkeeper, and The Captain, piggybacking Jim, addresses her. “Greetings, madam, how much for a night at the-”
“I’m a dude,” the innkeeper says with a mountainously-strong voice.
“A-ahh, yes. Pardon me then, sir. How much for a night?” The Captain asks.
“For you visitors, free- I’m not an innkeeper either, but I’ll take you in for the night. This way,” he says as he leads them along through some less populated streets. “So… you’re lookin’ for a book?” he asks as he works through a key and lock to enter his home.
The Captain nods. “That’s right, a book that a long-dead sorceress was said to cast spells from.” They enter a dark, warm room.
“Gah, that smell!” Colette says, waving her hand to fan the scent away.
The man lights a lantern, revealing a full butcher’s shop, filled with the mutilated corpses of animals and cutting devices of all sorts. “Yeah, well you’re gonna’ have trouble with that. If you were to take my advice you’d just turn around and sail off to wherever you came from. I’ll let you stay the night, but I’d be a mistake on your part.”
The Captain hums. “And why is that, sir?”
“The people hold Vuuya accountable for all the fortune we’ve had in this desolate place. To take the book would be to take our prosperity… Is that really what you want?” The apparent butcher asks as he shows them into a fair-sized, open room with a single bed and no other furnishings.
“We are not after your misery, but we will need the book we’re coming for. I trust you will keep our location a secret?” The Captain says, shifting a few sins, the common currency of the Omniverse, over to the man.
The butcher’s silent a moment, and then nods as he pockets the coins. “ ‘Course I will,” he says. “Some meat’s downstairs if you want it. Ya’ poop outside. ‘Night.” he closes the door and the group hears him go down the steps.
“What a… warm person he is,” Grancis says.
The Captain rests Jim on the floor and presents the bed to Colette and Grancis, as it’s large enough to accommodate two. “We have a long day tomorrow, so we may as well turn in now. Grancis, Colette, you may both enjoy the bed as the fairest of us,” he says like a doting father.
Colette laughs. “Thanks, Cap, but I’m not going to become a real captain by being pampered. You outrank me, so you should take the bed,” she says, choosing a nice, hard spot on the wooden floor along with Dunklestein, who just plops belly down to sleep.
The Captain looks over to Grancis, who apparently brought an outdoors bedding set along with her. “I’m good, sir. Go ahead,” Grancis says.
The Captain sighs, “If it’s really not something you want, so be it.”
Colette laxes onto the floor. “Night, Cap.” She yawns and turns to the wall. The Captain gets on the single bed, something he has trouble enjoying thanks to his body, but decides he might as well not cause a fuss about. He lays down in the dark room with the others, resting soundly, only the slight window light illuminating their surroundings.
...
An uncertain time later, a figure climbs in through the window. Aided by shadows it crawls up to the foot of the bed, but feels what seems to be ropes around its inhabitant, as if the person lying there has already been tied up. The mysterious figure feels for a pulse, but feels nothing. It pauses in thought, and then crawls back through the window, presuming someone beat it to the job. It leaves, not seeing, feeling, nor hearing any of the four people lying about at the corners of the pitch-black room.
The Captain and his Posse are met with Considerable Difficulties
The Captain yawns as he rises to the light of morning and the screeching of swamp birds. “Ahh, what a lovely nap that was. Alright, my little ducklings, rise and-” The Captain stops when he attempts to move his unusually sedentary body. It seems as though there is something holding him down. “What’s this?”
“C-captain! I can’t move!” Colette calls over the snoring of Dunklestein, also tied up.
The Captain sighs. “Jim?....”
A long silence.
“Yes?” a voice from across the room starts. The Captain looks over and sees a quite-free Jim with dark, fiery eyes.
“For what reason did you tie us up?”
“So I could have everyone in town help me kill you, of course!” The possessed Jim replies with a wide grin as he steps over to the window, clears his throat, and leans out. “HEY, EVERYBODY!” he shouts triumphantly, "THE BOOK THIEVES ARE STILL ALIVE— AND THEY’RE TIED UP RIGHT IN HERE! HELP ME!” At that, Jim quickly collapses onto the floor and regains himself to his good ol’, mostly non-evil personality.
“Huh?!" Dunklestein cries outs, riling up due to the screaming. "What’s goin’ on?”
Grancis gives a long, sleepy yawn. “Breakfast… already?”
Colette snatches a knife from her thigh and starts working through her binds. “Jim did it again. The village is coming to kill us!” she responds over an uproar among the crowds below.
“What?! Dammit, Jim!” Dunks snaps as he strains against the ropes, quickly fraying them with his hideous strength before helping Grancis out of her own binds.
Jim wallows on the floor in half consciousness until Dunklestein kicks him. “Blu- oh? What?!”
“Your tattoo dude tied us up, you dumbass!” Dunks yells as his ropes break.
Everyone hears a rush of footsteps from below while Jim mutters for a response. “I… Uh, you know how it can be, man! It’s a s-serious condition. I mean, I’m sorry, but it really isn’t my faul-”
The door bursts open the moment The Captain takes to his feet.
“There they are!” The not-so trustworthy butcher says, pointing to the four, “They’re the ones that want to steal Vuuya.”
The Captain holds his hands up in peace. “As much as I hate disagreeing, I fear I must, ladies and gentlemen,” he interjects. “We’re not here to steal anything of yours. We only want an old, useless relic from a witch— one that could not possibly still be alive. So by all means, let’s just talk this out and-”
The crowd rallies forward with careful steps as they brandish their weapons.
The Captain hums. “Very well. If you insist on fighting I will have no choice but to deal with each and every one of you.” He cracks his knuckles, and while all the sailors save Grancis experience the Pavlovian nervousness trained into them, the villagers know not who they deal with— the fools.
The butcher is the first to rush the tied up Captain. He mak
es a quick slash with his cleaver— but The Captain, his arms tied down, uses his leg to deliver an immaculately painful kick to the butcher’s shin.
“GRAH! SHIIIIIT!” The butcher, his pain threshold only that of a common man, exclaims as he falls to the ground in agony.
“Watch your language. You should be old enough to be a respectable example to the younger generations,” The Captain says with a cross tone as a man and woman both come forward with pointy, rusty weapons. The Captain makes a deft, fluid swing of the feet, striking the young man in his nethers and the knife-wielding woman in her face. Like magic, The Captain temporarily displaces himself from the law of gravity to send one foot into each weak point. Again the two of them are reduced to cringing piles of human misery as The Captain turns to his crew.
“Dunklestein: get the others out of here. I’ll meet up with you in the nearest alley with cover.”
Colette, free from her binds, brandishes her knife. “No, Captain! Let me fight!”
“There will be time for your fighting,” The Captain says as he kicks someone again in the shin with a skillfully-strung combo, “now follow orders.”
“B-but si-” Colette is interrupted as she is picked up by the hulking Dunklestein and, along with Jim and Grancis, carried out the large window. “I’m going to kick your ass extra hard in training for this one, sir!” she shouts.
The Captain sighs as he trips another opponent and heels them in the stomach. “Playing quite the child, my injurious ginger snap. Answer me once I’m done with this: How do you expect to become a leader if you cannot be led?”
The Captain hears a loud scoff from Colette, and she answers sharply, “Because leading and being led are polar opposites! I’m only planning to become good at one! You keep holding me back! This isn’t what I signed up f—” Her words dissipate into the distance as Dunks leaps from the roof with the three of them in arm. Down below she defiantly finishes her answer with muffled words: “This isn’t what I signed up for! You need to let me loose! I’m not a kid!” She struggles out of Dunklestein’s grip and brushes off her clothing as Jim simply tugs himself down politely from the seasort’s grasp. Grancis sort of stumbles against a wall, the pack’s weight unfamiliar with her after resting for hours. “I hate it when he’s like that,” Colette says, ducking into an alley with the others.
