The Lost Phantom

[Tiberius Fireskull]

Ahoy and welcome me hearties to the realm of, well, me! This is where I post the history of my pirate, the tales of him you never knew, in the form of a story. This is the second book in the Shadow Sorcerors Chronicles, The Lost Phantom.

For those of you who are fans of my story, welcome back! Prepare for another thrill ride full of sword fighting, voodoo, tears, and of course, the infamous crew of the Shadow King, the Shadow Sorcerors! I welcome you back mates, and hope you enjoy the sequel to my original tale.

For those of you that are new, I would wait to read this story, and first read book one in the chronicles, Shadows Rising,

Mates, I promised you a sequel, and here it is. Don't expect it to be as good as the first though Enjoy the beginning to my second book!

Prologue

He felt the gravel beneath him, and heard the cawing of ravens above him. The air was cold, and still. An icy breeze blew through the area, chilling the man to the bone. He slowly opened his eyes.

He saw the sky first. It was almost completely cloudless, with a bright blue sky. It was probably late afternoon, and the sun would be setting in a few hours. Around him were steep cliffs of some sort of black rock. Black birds, the ravens he had heard, flew overhead in massive flocks, cawing at each other.

The man groaned and slowly sat up. He was exhausted, but didn’t know why. Then he realized, he didn’t know anything. He tried to remember how he got here, but couldn’t. The last memory he had was… waking up, just a few moments ago. What was going on?

“What in the world…” he muttered to himself, holding up his hands to look at. His hands were perfectly clean, with cut fingernails, and smooth palms. He slowly stood up, resisting dizziness and nausea. He shook his head, and examined the rest of his body. He was wearing a pair of dark orange suspenders, perfectly clean except for a little dust from the ground he was lying on; a pair of dark black breeches, black boots, and a box belt. He felt his hair. It was long, but it was tied back in a ponytail which stuck upward. He pulled down a strand of his hair to his eyes. It was a dark red, almost brown color. He shook his head again, keeping his eyes from blurring.

He examined his surroundings again, now that he was standing. He was standing in the middle of a large open area, a small canyon between the cliffs. To one side was a small building, possibly a tavern of some sort. To the other side was a small little town. But the town was a wreck. Buildings had their roofs gone, and walls ripped open. It could have once been a lovely little town, a center of commerce and where people would live their lives, but no longer. It was a ruin.

The man took a few shaky steps towards the town. His legs felt like they hadn’t moved for years, and it took a while before he finally got the hang of walking again. After that, he walked normally, but cautiously, towards the ruin of the town.

He walked between a few small buildings, and then through a crumbling stone arch into a small plaza. Laying around the area were skeletons, dozens of them. Some were missing limbs, others had blades stuck through their bodies, and yet others were just piles of bones. The man suddenly envisioned the area filled with skeletons, but animated ones, armed with blades and guns, slaughtering innocent people. And there was a woman. A woman clinging to a small child, screaming out for help as undead closed in on her.

The man cried out, clutching his face, trying to shake the scene around him away. The vision only got worse. More undead poured in, and more were killed. A few fighters bravely fought against the undead demons, but they were slowly killed off. Buildings around him exploded as they were hit by strange, spectral cannonballs. The man screamed loudly now, shutting his eyes as tight as he could to get this horrible scene to go away. He fell to the floor, clutching his ears, trying to mute the sound of screaming people, crying babies, exploding buildings.

The sound faded away, but the man laid face down on the ground, sobbing. Soon he drifted off into a half sleep, and then he went completely unconscious.

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He woke up a few hours later. He could tell because the sun had just set, and darkness was closing in. He stood up, shuddering at the memory of the vision he had had. Somewhere inside of him, he knew it was real. That vision, it was real, and he had been there. It hadn’t happened here, but somewhere else, in a plaza much like this one.

He decided to leave the town. He walked back through the crumbling arch, and then realized something. It was deathly quiet. The only sound he had heard before was ravens cawing, but it was gone now. There was no sound at all, except for the distant sound of waves lapping on the shore of wherever he was.

He picked up his pace slightly, even though he didn’t know where he was going. He left the town, and found himself back in the open area inside the small canyon. He glanced up at the sky. It was night; however, this night was not normal. The sky wasn’t a dark, deep blue like it should be, or rather he thought it should be, since he had no memory. It was almost pitch black. Something about this place was not natural. And then he heard the howling.

Not the howling of a normal, earthly animal, no. This was something strange, something not of this world. It sounded like the moaning of a soul that was in pain, was lost, and worse, unspeakable horrors. The man didn’t want to know what was the source of this howling, so he ran towards the ruined tavern. He tried to open the doors, but they were locked. He shook the handles desperately.

God damn it! he screamed inside his head. He let go of the handles, and turned around towards the howling, and he caught his breath. He stared in horror at the source. The sound was emanating from nothing more than a misty red figure. It was shaped roughly like a disfigured circle, hovering two or so feet from the ground. It was something that shouldn’t cause all this fear, but it just did. When the man looked at it, his body filled with an indescribable fear. It slowly moved across the plaza, coming towards the man. It seemed that it hadn’t noticed him yet, but it would.

Cursing under his breath, the man stealthily moved behind a pile of crates, sitting down behind them with his back to the strange being. He could hear more of its pained howling as it came closer to him. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see it if it noticed him. Time almost seemed to slow down as it came near him. The man couldn’t help but open his eyes as the being moved to the other side of the crate pile. It was facing, or at least the man thought that was the way it was facing, the same way as him, and hadn’t noticed him yet. If the being just turned to its right, it would be staring him, if the thing could stare, straight in the face.

And then, the man did something he regretted. He meant to merely shift his arm, but it ended up knocking down one of the crates. He caught his breath and stared wide eyed at the being. The red mist seemed to shift, as if turning, and then, it changed. The mist stayed, but the form of a man materialized from it. The man couldn’t make out the clothes that the being was wearing, as the whole thing was just a silhouette, but on the face, he could make out two eyes, glowing red with hatred. The being looked him directly in the eyes, and the man cried out in fear as he realized he was about to meet his fate. The being had found him for sure now, and there was no telling what it would do now.

He shut his eyes, preparing for the worst, but it never came. He slowly opened his eyes to see the being walking away from him, continuing on its original path. The form of the man slowly melted away until it was just a blob of red mist, hovering away.

The man laid back, letting out a breath of relief.

“Where am I?” the man asked himself. “More importantly, who am I?”

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If you have a guess at who this character is, keep it to yourself. If you can't bear keeping it in, PM me to let it out

Commentary? And stay tuned for Chapter 1 mates!