The Captain's Stand

by Kat Mandu

  “The shrines? Those are the sacrificial places the captain has to use, right?” Richard asked, waving his other hand.

  “They are not for sacrifices!” she roared while a blast of wind knocked him off his chair. “But, yes,” she continued, her voice as sweet as honey. “Just one is all I ask and I shall give you the key and place to get into the castle undetected.”

  “That seems very trusting,” Richard commented. “What’s the catch?”

  “As you can see, I am not bound to this island and my influences only reach so far. However, I have just dragged you out of your body and into my little corner of creation. Do you want to know what I do to people who betray me?” she asked.

  “I am curious,” Richard admitted, rubbing his chin. He could see a cold glare cross her face beneath the hood. “However,” he drew out, “I don’t much care for Pirate Lords or ma former captain. In fact, it would give me great pleasure to spilt his corpse in half and feed it to the sharks.”

  “Excellent,” she said, tossing something at him. Richard caught it – it was a necklace. The pendant was a metal circle engraved with a large dog, horse and a snake between them. “When used in even the smallest shadow of moonlight, this will open up a door into the castle. From there, if you are careful, it will give you access to the fairy. She will regain her wish in two days. If you can get her before the Gargoyle does, it’s all yours. If not, enjoy your stay on the island.”

  “So,” Richard said, flicking the necklace in the air, “how is this coming with me?”

  “I will have a friend deliver it. Now, off you go.” With that, she disappeared along with everything else.

  “AH!” he cried out as blinding pain shot into his legs. He opened his eyes to see Tray grabbing at the Chimera.

  “Well, that was interesting. You seemed fine, but for whatever reason, you just wouldn’t wake up,” Laurella said, standing up.

  “That’s nice and all, but now that he is clearly alive, can I have a hand here?” Tray asked. Richard began to shove at the creature as well.

  “Fine, James stay back. I don’t need you straining your injury,” Laurella cautioned as he put his sword away.

  “We may need to take a rain check – I can’t really stand up,” James admitted before he dropped to the ground.

  “Damn it!” she cried out. Richard managed to wiggle his way out from under the corpse. Tray went to his brother, picking him up with one strong heft.

  “Sorry, but we have to get him someplace safe,” Laurella said.

  “Of course,” Richard said with a strained smile. “Look, I think I can find it. I appreciate the help, but I have a feeling that having a stranger like me in your group is just going to cause trouble.” With that, Richard turned back onto is trail, Jill moving alongside him in silence. He paused when Laurella called his name.

  “Richard, we’ve got a crashed boat on the northern shore,” Laurella called. “It’s a go to safe house if we ever get spilt up. If you are still alive, you can head there and wait for us,” she informed him. He nodded, turning back for his chosen path.

  After a few moments, he rested his hand on Jill, rubbing her head. “I am starting to think I took a bad hit to the head,” he said, glancing at the dog. A swirl of fog played in front of him. He could see a large tower looming over the castle wall in the distance.

  The dog tilted her head, as if not understanding what he had said. Richard rolled his eyes. “I am talking to a dog. Now I know I am going crazy,” he said, standing to his feet.

  “Who?” came a cry. Richard felt the hair on his neck stand straight up.

  “Who goes there!” he shouted, pulling out his cutlass and shifting his gaze in hopes of finding the interloper.

  “Who!” He spun around to see a horned owl with big yellow eyes looking at him. Richard glanced up to see that, despite the morbid setting he found himself in, the sun was still high in the sky. A low jingle caught his attention.

  “Are you who?” the owl asked. Richard went silent, feeling his eyes widen as he glanced down at Jill. The dog looked back and just panted. “Are you who?” it asked again in a clearly male voice. “Damn it mortal, answer the question!” it shouted.

  “Who, what?” Richard asked, completely dumbstruck.

  “It’s how. Talk, who the fuck are you? Man, I have better things to be doing than hunting down some new tool for my goddess,” the owl griped.

  “Ma name is Richard Robert Zane,” Richard informed. The bird threw a talisman at him. It looked the same as the one in his dream, albeit, a bit duller.

  “‘Bout time. Mortals, such an uneducated lot,” the owl said before taking flight.

  “I guess even the – ahem – gods cannae get good help,” Richard said, nodding his head. The dog just sat there. “Come on, we have to get moving. The sooner we get in, the sooner we can get out.” Jill lowered her head and trailed after him.

  The fog swirled around them thickly. His sight was all but killed, but even in the thickest spots, he could still make out the massive tower. Jill began to growl and Richard could hear something whispering around him. Jill barked and he went for his blade. With his hand resting on it, he could hear something whispering right next to his ear.

  “AHH!” came an unmistakable battle cry. A massive man ran out of the fog, charging at Richard. Jill leaped to the side while Richard reached for his sword. But a shield on the other man’s shoulder and chest crashed into him. The air rushed passed his lips as he was tackled to the ground, his sword still hanging in his sash. The man stood back up to his full height, easily half a foot taller. His hair was long and he had a thick beard to match. His eyes were wild and when he roared into the fog, it seemed to run away from him.

  “Burn monster!” he roared. Richard got his blade out in time but the man’s fist met the flat of blade, bending the steel as the blow was caught. Richard pushed back but soon realized the wild man’s arms were packed with a lot more muscle.

  Richard began to lower the cutlass, feeling his strength start to wane. Jill growled, leaping onto his back and biting down on the shield while shaking her head. The man looked back, only for Richard to pull back on the blade and bash the side of his face with the hilt. The surprise knocked the wild man off him and Richard rolled to the side. Richard pulled the blade all the way out and pushed himself to his feet. Jill scrambled back to her feet, growling at the man. He had a sleeveless tunic on with a tan shield over his shoulders. The front ended in a point with a skull engraved on it. He had leather gauntlets around his wrists and a baggy pair of dark tan pants that sat around a rather big belly.

  “A sword shall not stop me!” he roared, charging again. Richard swiped at his face but the man twisted, letting his shielded shoulder take the blow. He bashed into Richard again, slamming him into a tree.

  The man twisted his grip and tossed Richard over his head. Richard felt the world spin when he was slammed into the ground. He tumbled to a stop and tried to find his lost sword. The wild man charged at him again. Richard got to his feet just in time to bring his fist up in basic defense. The man’s meaty fist smashed into his meager defense. His own arms slammed into his face, while the man left a blinding blow to his gut, knocking the wind out of him. With one uppercut, Richard was slammed onto his back.

  “Jill,” he moaned out, his mind reeling from the strength of the blows. He felt for anything as he grabbed onto the sheath, he swung the blunt object at his attacker. His mind was still in a panic, trying to bide some time but his wrist was caught.

  Richard watched as the wild man twisted his hand until he felt a cruel snap. Richard’s cry of pain was cut off with a head slamming into his before an arm was rammed into his neck, cutting off his air supply. Richard grabbed at the man’s arm, his fingers digging into anything his could find but his grip was weakening. The other arm slammed into his ribs and he could feel his bones straining under the blow. He reached out and grabbed the man’s neck with his left but the effort seemed useless.

  “T
he nightmare is weakening. It is almost over,” the man said in glee, as if Richard’s death would end his own torment. The man’s feet dug into the dirt and Jill bit into his leg. The man snarled at the dog, shifting his feet and alleviating the pressure on Richard.

  Seeing his only chance, he kneed the man in the groin. The man staggered back, Jill leaping and biting at his wrists. “I have seen scarier shit in my nightmares, bitch!” he roared at the dog. Richard spotted his sword. Holding his broken wrist close to his chest, he grabbed the blade with his left.

  “I would have imagined ma nightmares would have been a bit less hairy,” Richard said, pressing the tip of the blade to the man’s neck.

  “Heh, heh,” he rumbled. Suddenly, he started to laugh, a loud roar that echoed all around them. Jill peered back, confused at the man. “I suppose it would be safe to say that you are flesh and blood?” he asked, looking at Richard.

  “Well, ay, since an unarmed man – nae matter how big – is not what I would call nightmare fuel,” Richard replied. “You got a name?”

  “Nope,” he answered with a smirk.

  “Nope, well that is a weird name,” Richard admitted, the back of his neck twitched at the taste of the name.

  “No, I don’t have one. I’ve been here for so long, all I can remember is fighting,” he admitted, as if it was a matter of pride.

  “Okay, well Boss,” Richard said, the first thing that came to his mind when he thought of wild man. “Care to call this a draw and let me pass?”

  “Do whatever you want,” he said, laying back down on the ground. “This is the most peace I have gotten in a long time. Are you a wizard or something?”

  “Hardly,” Richard replied, pulling the blade back but refraining from putting it away. “Jill,” he ordered and the dog sat at his feet.

  “So now what?”

  “I am going on a suicide mission in hopes of getting a trip off this island,” Richard admitted.

  “Sounds interesting. Mind if I join you?” Boss asked, sitting up.

  “We will probably die in the process,” Richard warned.

  “Sounds better than hanging out here,” he countered, extending his hands around him.

  “Fair point,” Richard said, grabbing onto his sash. The man frowned and snatched it out of his hand. Richard gasped while Boss picked up a few branches and bound the broken wrist, using the wood as a stint. Richard’s mind was still screaming but he refused to let it show. “Well, this is going to hold me back.”

  “It’s only a fracture. Keep it stinted and cool, you should have it back in about four weeks. Nothing crippling,” he explained.

  “How do you know that?” Richard asked, frowning.

  “Not sure, just seems right. And I did the damage, sorry about that,” he admitted. “Let’s get going. Try to bring me up to speed on what it is exactly we are doing.”

  “Sure thing, Boss. This is a little weird, but it’s our best hope – outside of trying to take over the ship that is anchored a good ways outside the island,” Richard started. The two walked on towards the castle, Richard explaining the events leading up to Boss’s attack. And all the while, he was trying to keep his screaming to himself.

  Chapter 6 Over Coming Fears

  “So, Boss, what should I be expecting?” Richard asked, glancing over at him.

  “Um, not sure. So why is Boss my name?”

  “It was the first thing that came to ma mind. Speaking of, I don’t think we are getting any closer to our target,” Richard said, stopping and folding his arms.

  “Seems so. I am not the best judge of distance, but we are relatively the same distance away that we started at. I hope you are ready for a parade of fears,” Boss said, looking over at Richard.

  “Ma fears are strictly of the non-physical dilemma. More like daddy issues,” Richard said with a shrug.

  “You want to talk about it?” Boss asked.

  Richard took a deep breath. “No,” he said suddenly, tapping his chin. “There has to be a way in. It would do little good if I get stuck in this whirlpool of terror,” he said, fingering the talisman around his neck. “It has to be an illusion, which means something has to be sustaining it.”

  “Or it could be a natural phenomenon,” Boss pointed out.

  “I doubt it. No matter how thick fog is, it cannae bend light in circles,” Richard explained.

  “For a pirate, you sound fairly educated,” Boss commented. Richard remained silent, stabbing his cutlass into the ground. Then he plucked at the end of his sash. “What are you doing?” he asked, watching Richard pull out a long thread.

  “I am going to see how this works. Help me unravel this,” Richard ordered, tying the thread to the hilt of the cutlass. “Now then, let’s see if we can get moving when we have a bit of direction.

  “I don’t think this is going to work,” Boss said casually, watching Richard work.

  “You don’t say,” Richard said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Tell you what, let me know what will work and we can try that.” Boss didn’t respond. “Look, I don’t expect it to work. Now keep the sword in place.

  Boss watched as Richard dashed into the trees, loping back around. He was gradually making his way around before coming back with the end of the thread. “Grab the sword. Something tells me you will make better use of it,” Richard said. Boss pulled it out of the ground and approached him.

  Richard kept a calm face, raising an eyebrow but the two remained silent. “Well, lead the way. This is your plan, after all.” Richard shook his head, starting to walk.

  “Big surprise, I told you it wouldn’t work,” Boss said, surveying all the thread that was, once again, before him.

  “No footprints, but the thread stayed. So, it cannae be an illusion. But what?” Richard wondered, tilting his head. A low chuckling echoed around them. “So smart – you are the first. Everyone else is so boring,” the voice said, drawing the word out. Boss readied the sword but Richard held out his hand.

  “It isn’t interested in fighting, just lower the weapon,” Richard said quietly. “We cannae leave without it’s say so. Doing something it doesn’t like is not wise.” Jill growled, baring her teeth.

  “We wish to pass,” Richard shouted, his voice echoing back around them.

  “I wish to fuck with you until you slowly descend into madness,” the voice cackled.

  “That explains a thing or two,” Boss muttered.

  “So why haven’t you?” Richard asked. “For such a creature to have gained such a reputation, you must be more than capable of doing so.”

  “Reputation?” the voice echoed.

  “Well, of course. People know of your mists, even if they have never visited them, a place where your worst nightmares come true. So, I ask again, why am I still sane?”

  “Who said you were sane? You walked right into my mist; most people try to avoid it,” the voice noted.

  “He has a point,” Boss replied. Richard narrowed his eyes in irritation.

  “Hey, big words from Mr. Amnesia. In some kinds of dangers – like if a python swallows your hand – your best bet is to plunge it in deeper instead of trying to pull it out.”

  “That all depends on the snake,” the voice said. A large pair of eyes blinked from the edge of the fog.

  “Shit!” both men shouted at the same time. Boss held out the sword but Richard bull-rushed the massive snake as it rose up above them. The scales glistened a dark brown but two bright green eyes looked down at them.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Boss shouted. The snake reared back, a hood popping open and a long tail coiling forward. “It’s going to eat you!”

  Richard rushed forward as the snake’s head snapped forward, it’s giant maw opening wide as it flew through the air.

  “No!” Boss shouted into a massive wind of fog. He opened his eyes a crack and saw the snake was gone. “What in the world?” he asked, looking around. A lone figure remained and a low groaning sound echoed in the air. Bones and green f
lesh appeared as the fog began to dissipate. “A zombie?” he mouth. A pair of broken chains dangled nearby. “Okay, you are not fooling me on this,” Boss said, lowering his sword. The remaining fog split.

  “How did you know?” Richard asked.

  “Your arm was still close to your chest, your footing was still solid, the way you moved and carried yourself. That, and a twenty foot snake doesn’t just vanish. So, now what?”

  “Nothing, we simply keep walking,” Richard said with a small shrug.

  “That’s it? No fighting, or trying to hunt it down? We could at least spread word around.”

  “It won’t do any good. It can fool sound, speech, size. The only reason we are able to talk is because it doesn’t care. He, her, it, whatever,” he replied, emphasizing the last one. “Entertainment is all it wants,” Richard said, sitting down with his legs crossed.

  “You are going to just sit there? I will goad you, I will send another hapless traveler – he will kill you!” the voice shouted.

  “Then I shall die! But I shall not be your plaything. Now leave me be if you will not let me pass,” Richard said in a dull tone.

  “No, no, no, no!” it shouted, the voice becoming more and more childlike and high-pitched. “not fair, you are the first people and I don’t have any new toys!” it screamed. Boss winced at the volume. Jill dropped to her belly, pushing her ears down with her paws. Richard’s eyes fell into a half-open state, clearly bored with the childish tantrum. The fog seemed to settle and the tower that once loomed in front of them was off to the right.

  “I hate kids,” he growled.

  “So, you think he will give us anymore trouble?” Boss asked. Richard glanced back, noticing a pair of triangular white ears popping out of the fog.

  “I doubt it. If he is that bored, he will more than likely venture out. Boredom can only be tolerated for so long,” Richard replied. A pair of nine tails swished in the air before darting away into the fog. He took a deep breath and looked up. The eye of the storm, it seemed, had let through a bright full moon, illuminating the outer wall of the castle. Boss placed a hand on it, running his fingers over the smooth stone.