Hell’s Stranding
[Intro]
Bloodied, panting, screaming in agony like a frightened mare. Pursuit following prey of clacking audibility. A day that was supposed to be celebrated as the end of a telling story. Became but a new scintillating beginning. Washed, like tidal waves of a crying black mass from waste dumped into its scenic waters that related to bile. The spillage of inkwell ruining hardship of work of written literature dedicated from tears of painstaking heart. A forcing of scrapping to discard and thrust into restart bin. This is the Prophecy of the Devil who lingered like parasite; as despair... The Crowning of all inspired t’ journeyed chase. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But in-order for an understanding. One must be taken back. To before the seed of harrowing. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Upon a vessel of crimson. Jesters of piracy banded together for one last hurrah. The Captain of the Goldbrand had decided to resign from his acts, it wasn’t too late to start a new leaf. To fall into the ambiance and ride peace. A belief that his age was maturing and ripe past the seasons of wild escapades. The mixtures of one shot mingles. He had his fair-share of plunder. As it stood, he was wiped cleaned. This was a fork-road, one chance in the entire lifetime. All his crimes were absolved from the belief of his death. He was ghosted off to the contracted who believed him gone. Tortured, brutalized, rivals continuously sought an end to him. They were knocking on his door constantly with envelopes of entrails of his beloveds that stood to his aside. There was no stoppage to these events. It would only get more bloodied and all that he had in fortune would be pried from his hands stained in greed. N’haps normality would serve him well he tasted it and understood why most become the Untraveled and simple. There was promise of preserving by being stagnant. To become but stone with what was attained. The ship rocked to the currents violently, however that could be mistaken from the ruffians of debauchery that took place below deck boards as wenches were thrashed and messy ale shattered, heads butted, brawls took place. Drunken shanties were sung, passed out and inexperienced deckhands were blasted out from their untapped sailor stomachs. Boots of leather stopped, a crooked grin. Feint. Holding the torch of letting this all go. For preservation called it. The doubts he could remain intact and not be devoured was too surreal. “Well mateys ye gonna steal all the celebration? Half ye already off from walkin’ and can stand coherently and from sounds o’ it the coastal gems arr bein’ drained out to a new oasis. Here, I thought we were going to treat this like Starlight and ole dear Capt be walk’n in bundles of gifts.” Chuckling softly in contentment, “I just pullin a rib-tickler. Continue, this is how I truly envisioned it one big tour across the mighty seas.” Meanwhile in the crow’s nest the lad running in spyglass. Was awakened and became alert as a sudden gust took place. As if a tripwire was hit to where they sailed. Something ominous drawing in. Today was the melting of the fates. A yelling surfaced in warning from the crow but it was out of shout from the celebration below even the ringing of bells was drowned out. Suddenly the heavens wept in a downpour so thick and rich and violent. A storm spawned to them. The ship began heaving harder. The Capt nearly falling from loose boots and balance. Who then drew to focus of his senses. Stepping out in haste the door opening caused a billowing wind to knock out the interior and push drunken crewmates down and a rush of water floated above from mean tides. Everything happened with the tandem of lightning striking across the sleek skies. No one was prepared to rig or in the shape to handle this. The Capt was prepared to brave this but as he stepped foot forward on the main deck. His eye floundered to the sign of five twisters surrounding the ship and encompassing and right before them they were steering into a devastating whirlpool beginning gyrations. “Everyone! Abandon ship, QUICKLY now. Get out of here!” But it was little to no use some were able to stumble and walk but it wasn’t fast enough. Blood rushing for moments like this. It wasn’t his first time this rodeo occurred but this happened in the spawn of nowhere and this time, he wasn’t alone. There were crewmates lives on the line. On this day of all time. He couldn’t believe the winds brought this naturally. His memory played-back a twisted message of a creeping demon that lingered.<”You will lose... everything.”> It whispered internally and sought to break and crumble him. “DAMN IT.” His teeth gritted viciously. He sought to oppose and refute that shite from the happening. Bravely rushing with all his focus and balance towards the rigging and sails he attempted to steer. A few cracks and leaks of the would start be removed as bolts of the ship was being ripped and torn. “Jump get out of here!” He yelled at the lad on the crows-nest who slid down ladder and cut off their emergency boat to retreat. A few other mates rushing out with wenches carrying, some of the smaller and frail looking would be taken off from the gust. It was no-good. This was inescapable. This was the end an unwinnable fight. “NOT LIKE THIS. EVERYTHING, NO!” He shouted in defiance. But those who stand tall, risk stumbling sooner to the laws of nature, order, fate. Things deemed unbeatable. The Pirate Captain, characterized of such bright promise. Who fought freedom loudly. Who turned his back on his road, throwing in the towel. He was becoming unrecognizable. This was punishment. The author of karma, wrote him like this to suffer for the transgressions. Who was he but just a blip to this world? There was a reason those gave-up. It was because they believed, they could not make a dent in something so large and that which was bigger than them. Logistics, common sense. Dreamers were often crushed. It’s why Nightmares invaded the pleasant escapes. When there is sparkling hope. There is somewhere, an envious spite is brought to extinguish that hint of light in squish it below their heels. There would be no legends told. No glory to be had if nothing was done without a challenge. A road to climb. All would become dull. Humanity would be extinct without adaptation and the hardships it was given by not being the only dimensional form of existence on these flawed planes. Yet here was a rotten crook. That made it through Wars. That braved numerous of what should be deaths. That explored the unexplored that became history. That had lost history. A flame can always be blown out. Luck can vanish with a snap of a digit. His arm extending out trying to reach towards his Cabin’s door knob to retrieve something of importance before a bright light and blackness rung against him the howl taking him. The wind and everything fading as he flew to the current and drifted to the whirl. Is... it... over...?
A figurative unspoken book begins to close shutter. Before a missing page lands before the Author sticking between their window from a pressurized defiance of gust.
[Outro]
