Pirate Hunters (Finish The Story Entry)

Opening By @theironfelix

Boots calmly walked towards an open window-hatch, a bottle of rum is lowered down onto the sill. Upon the placement, the pirate places his scarred-induced hands on his wailing back and pushes.

“Argh! Me back be free of this wretched ache! Well, guess I learned a lesson: take a break when the Cap’n says so. Welp, time to rest...”

Taking his cue, the sill creaked in annoyance as the pirate’s body self-inquired the best resting position while perched on a sill. With a hairy arm supporting his night-colored beard, he spent his leisure-time mentally capturing the seas itself. There the familiar specs of white dots danced about the blue sky; he gasped before slowly releasing the captured air, he remembered how deep in the seven seas the ship was. With the mind returning to boredom, his eyes scanned under the blue sky.

“Ah poor ship, how these blue, blue, waves harass yah. I can hear yer wails, but I judge not. And even when the harassment be over, the aches only then take over; yet only can I respond with ‘such is life’... Huh, what be a ship in these waters be doing here? Where’s me spotting scope!”

The boots thus began a chaotic dance recital; the arms took the center stage as it flailed around to uncover the hidden telescope. As the telescope may have enjoyed the scene, it soon squeaked loud upon the firm clasp on its metallic skin. The pirate returned to the window-hatch and his arms stretched the telescope wide-wards. Eyeing in on the odd element, his eyes darted around to find any friendly symbol but soon froze.

“Oh me Flyin’ Dutchman! We’ve been tracked! Hey ho! Sound the alarm, pirate hunters come and in full-mast they set sail towards us!”

Whatever wail the ship can ever muster, the cacophonies of a hundred bodies darting around alone had easily drowned out such sorrows. The pirate unsheathed his sword, the sun’s naïve light touched and bounced off the sword. Sheathing his sword, he unholstered his flintlocks and his arms helped his eyes scan such. Cocking and holstering them, his body emerged from his room and joined in the traffic of the workplace as pirate bodies shuffled and kicked around to ready on their position. Albeit the humidity would’ve granted a hasty rest through stroke, the adrenalin surging about the bodies had protected them from unwanted advances of humidity.

Finally getting to the deck, he about-faced and attempted advancing towards the Captain’s spot. However, the Captain echoed:

“Brace!”

And the pirate mass dropped dead and clung hard to any support they could find; as soon the ship screeched thanks the holes formed from the steel cannon-shots who mercilessly ripped through her. With that, the pirate mass resumed its circuitry and soon he met with the Captain; he screamed:

“Madame! I’m here, let me take over the steering and yah the commandin’!”

“Finally yer here, Wither! Please, they be gainin’ too much ground. So steer us towards oure enemy! And when we get close, steer us parallel to their starboard side and avoid portside! Today, I must accept my bounty and let them hath none of it!”

“Cap’n oh Cap’n! Are yah mad?”

“Mad? No! Blimey, avoid their hull Wither!”

My Ending

Hands twisted over each other, unwinding the downhaul, swinging the ship about face.

Thick-skinned pirates rippled, mirroring the ocean as the boom swung over their heads, and hauling wind - they skitted towards the enemy.

“Avast Ye!”

The Captain had hoisted up the rigging, commanding her attack.

“Let’s scuttle this sharkbait ‘fore our real quarry draws in, this bounty be mine!”

They hadn't been cutting the wind for ten score days, tracking this great beast, to have it stolen now. Cheers joined the rumble of boot stomping, the pirate mass readying for the assault.

Battling the currents, Wither leaned into the tiller, adding his considerable weight to the strain of his bulking muscles. Groaning in displeasure, the ship complied, contorting to come parallel on the starboard side of their fellow pirate hunters.

Shots cracked across the water, falling short on both sides and plummeting into the depths. Until they landed the first hit, and the victorious bellow of steel through wood echoed out of a hundred lungs.

Splinters sprayed across foam; catching in the eddies of previous misses, sinking into suddenly seething soup.

“Blow me down! All hands on deck!”

The Captain's words were lost in a crack of monstrous thunder, jumping down their spines with a familiar adrenaline surge.

The enemy vessel, taking on water through its shattered timbers, lurched in the wake of a Kraken.

The water between them, littered with broken wood, took on a deathly calm. Both ships stopped, suspended, waiting to see where it would surface.

Flecks of foam burst into frothing waves; bubbling, toiling water swelling into a smooth balloon. Gun monkeys jumped into action, loading the bronze bellies of the cannons, as the one intact ship came about face.

Their shots rained down on the cresting cephalopod. Predictably, barbed tentacles thrashed at the source of the unpleasantry. With a dying groan, their enemy ship snatched the creature's probing attention moments before it broke the water tension.

Boned plated encasing the mantel, deep orbs of furious eyes locked on to it's target as it lashed out in rage.

Screaming landlubbers leapt from that sinking vessel, taking their chances clinging to the splintered chunks. Their captain did not, he’d climbed the ringing, standing tall in the crows-nest, his flintlock drawn.

---

In the minutes it took the huge Kraken to tear that ship limb from limb, Wither, under his Captain's sharp eye, had directed the gunners.

The modified flintlocks were the only thing that could pierce the beast's thick skull, killing the wretched thing.

Nay a hunter would sail it’s treacherous seas, nay a hunter, but a pirate hunter, a booted buccaneer, aye, they’d brave it’s broiling broth, for a bounty.

Waiting for it to come into range, Wither cast an eye over the blue waves, spitting at the sky.

“Ahh me dear ship, we’ll keep ya watertight tonight, aye, else Davy Jones locker awaits us all.”

The ship shuddered, shivering along the frame as heavy waves slapped against the hull.

“Aye and ye might be comp’aining at such poor consolations; we be takin’ down this beast, as we taken down many a more beast ’fore it, and many a more we’ll take still, ye can be sure of that!”

This was a very fun one to finish, there was so much that could be picked up on, I could have written more, but, wanted to come in as close to 500 as possible. I got it down to 508, but it didn't quite make enough sense that pared, so came out at 534. Maybe attempted too much, and didn't get the detail, but I just loved the idea of the pirate hunters not being those that hunted pirates, but pirates that hunted. I realised, the more I went over the first half, just how very much the open tone allows for, could have got away with robo-pirates given the hidden telescope and a few other turns of phrase. Can't wait to see where the rest of the endings go!

This is my entry to Finish The Story, the weekly @bananafish writing contest hosted by @f3nix. This round has been opened by the one and only @theironfelix - a man who masters immersive approaches. Check out all the entries and see the different endings woven from this under #finishthestory

Photo Credit by Pixabay User ivanovgood who I discovered when looking for an image for a fifty words entry, a great selection of high quality pictures, mainly photos, but a few like this.

Love and sparkle ~ Calluna