The Scathed

[charlottegold]

OH I love this one! I feel a little Sarah in me ... I like her - please be good to her LOL
Well done ! Thanks for always captivating me!

Char

[Crestshot]

Ahoy, ahoy, ahoy mates! It is that time again, and I do not mean of ghosts and ghouls, haha. So, for you, I present...

The Storm



The next day, after they had been fitted for appropriate clothes, Sarah and Charles boarded the ship again, for a trip to Tortuga this time. Josie had made sure they were outfitted properly, giving Sarah an over-simplistic white skirt and a long sleeved white shirt. Charles didn’t need much of anything for clothing. He’d already acquired seafaring clothes before leaving England. That was just something they didn’t have to spend money on, thank god. Josie had forbidden the siblings to tell their last names for some reason, and Truehound served them happily.

Josie was at the dock the next day to see them off. “Good luck on finding Kat,” she told them. “If I see her first, I’ll direct her towards you. And… watch out in Tortuga, alright? It may be a free port, but it can be a bit too free at times. Just be careful.”

Sarah let herself drop her composure for a moment. “Thank you for all of your help, Josie,” she said while Charles was helping prepare the ship. She looked for a moment as if she was going to do something, like hug Josie, but instead she simply took the older woman’s hand. “Goodbye Josie,” she said shortly, and boarded the ship.

Josie watched the pearly white sails be released and head out of the dock. She waved at the ship, “Fair winds. That girl could definitely use some extra happiness,” and went back to her small, lonely tavern.

Onboard, Charles and the rest of the crew were continuing the preparations for the high seas. The captain approached Sarah as she watched the hustle and bustle. “There seems to be a storm coming, miss,” he told her with a slight edge to his voice. “Are you certain you want to leave today?”

Sarah met his cold gaze with one of her own. Her eyes pierced through him icily. “Time is of the essence, captain. We leave now,” she told him briskly. The man nodded hesitantly and went off to give orders to his men. Sarah sighed softly and disappeared into the small cabin that had been provided for her.

Three hours later, the ship rocked wildly in the foaming waves. Sarah was slammed into the doorway of her cabin as she tried to get onto the main deck. Men were running about, trying to adjust for the storm as they tightened the sails and battening down the hatches. The captain held tight to the wheel, trying to direct the ship through this mess. Lightning flashed and thunder roared next to the crashing of water on the sides of the ship. This was the chaos of the Caribbean sea.

“I told you, you stupid woman!” the captain yelled as she reached him. “I told you the storm was coming! If we sink out here, it’s on your head!”

Sarah felt fear clench her stomach and swallowed hard. “Keep going, captain! Just keep going!” she yelled. She clutched the railing in a death grip as another dark wave washed over the ship. It tipped precariously to starboard side as she tried to go down the stairs to Charles. He held the rope in his soaking hands, trying to keep the sails from blowing away.

“Sarah, help me!” he yelled, trying to beat away the sound of the storm with his voice. His sister leaned down and tied off the sail. Another strong crash rocked the ship, and Sarah smashed into a wall of the boat. She grabbed onto the rope she had juts tied and hauled herself to her feet. Something was wrong, though. Charles wasn’t there to help her up.

A faint cry was heard from the side of the ship. Sarah slipped in a puddle in her haste to get to the side of the ship. A dark brown head of hair floated briefly above the waves, then disappeared.

Sarah gasped in horror. “Man overboard!” she yelled desperately. She moved to an emergency bell the captain had shown her the first day on the ship. The gonging cut through the storm clearly. “Man overboard, port side!” she cried again.

Charles vaguely heard bells… ding, dong, ding, dong. There was yelling… Sarah? Was that Sarah? He struggled against the waves pushing every side of him. The bell continued to ring as water rushed into his ears and he was dragged under the waves. His mouth opened instinctively for air, but only took in water. He was falling, falling, falling into the abyss, and he recalled the sound of the bell. Ding... dong... come... down... the sea will take care of you.

Sand dragged underneath the soles of his boots, awakening him and giving him more power. He kicked up from the solid ground, not sure where he was going, but knowing he had to go somewhere. Strong arms pushed the water aside and water logged shoes hindered him, but he kept going. There had to be something. Davy Jones would not take this man!

His head broke the surface and Charles took a deep breath of air. Rain splattered on his face as he struggled against being pulled under again. He blinked water out of his eyes and, when they were clear, squinted in the darkness to see a patch of sand in front of him. His muscles strained with effort, and he fought his way to the small shore.

The storm tried to push him backwards, but Charles was having none of that. He kept going until sand squished underneath his feet. There wasn’t much to do but wading at that point, and Charles joyously accepted the small, muddled rocks. That is, until one of the incoming waves knocked him to the ground.

He lay in the damp shore in a daze, taking deep, heaving breaths, even though his mouth was opened to the sand. His entire boy was splayed out, and he knew he would be in pain later… if there was a later. With a groan, Charles pushed himself up, but only proceeded to roll onto his back. The rain had slowed some, dropping lightly onto his face. Thunder roared in the distance as the storm began to blow away.

The crunching of footsteps along the shore was blown away by the violent wind. A form dressed in black, head to toe, blended in with the storm clouds above. Water dropped from the long brim of a hat. A bright green apple was clutched in a gnarled hand. Lightning flashed down into the ocean, revealing his silhouette standing above the prone body of Charles.

Charles jumped at the sight of the figure. Sand moved between his fingers as he searched for something, anything, though he didn’t know what, to defend himself with. His hand finally grappled upon a rock, and he flung it at the figure. It bounced harmlessly against its chest.

“What ye be doin’ here lad?” the figure said above the storm in a gravelly voice. One of the worn hands reached down, and Charles warily grabbed it to be hauled to his feet.

“Got washed up by the storm,” he yelled.

The figure nodded. ‘C’mon, follow me,” he said. He began hulking down the beach. Charles considered going against the request, but decided there couldn’t be much harm in it. Besides, anything this man had was probably better than the storm. He ran after the dark figure.

They ended up in a small grotto, with a few torches lighting the space. Charles’ eyes widened at the heaps of treasure that filled the room. Gold and gems glittered up into his hazel eyes in the flickering light. The man glanced back at him with an amused smirk. “Ye like the shine, do ye lad?” He let out a booming laugh that echoed through the cavern. To Charles, it almost sounded like a cackle.

“Who are you?” Charles asked, his voice stronger than he really was. All his body really wanted to do was lay on the cold, stone floor and rest, but he was guarded around this man. There was no telling what would happen if he let himself relax.

The man walked across the confined space. “Jack! Where be ye, ye scoundrel?” A chattering came from a small cliff, and coins clinked together as a small monkey leaped off of them to the man. It scurried up his leg and up to his shoulder. The man pet it behind its ears, and the monkey chattered happily. “Good boy.”

Charles looked at the man curiously. “Who are you?” he asked again.

“My name be Barbossa,” the man said in his booming voice, and in the new light, Charles could see small scars marking his face. “Hector Barbossa. And me story?” He leaned against a stone casket and waved a hand. “Well, that not be important. Now you lad! What of you? Might I be getting to know yer story as well?”

Charles felt his back straighten. “I am Charles Crestshot.”

“Ah! A strong, strapping name for a lad like yerself!” Barbossa shouted, and Charles jumped again. “Aye, a good name for the Caribbean. How’d ye come washed up on that shore?”

“I went overboard in a storm,” he said. “We were headed for Tortuga.”

Barbossa must have felt very excitable, as he shouted again. “Oho! What have we here Jack?" he said to the monkey. "Strong name, strong build, and a pirate to boot!”

Charles leveled his gaze in a glare at Barbossa. “I am no pirate,” he said with a tint of venom.

Barbossa’s eyes got a glint in them. “But I can see it in ye, lad,” he said lowly, no longer shouting. “It calls to ye, don’t it? The sea, the sails, the freedom. Ye want it, don’t ye boy?”

Charles’ fists clenched. “I am no boy, either!” he shouted.

Barbossa grinned. “Anger as well. Good, very good.” He took a pistol from his belt, and Charles froze, thinking he had somehow put his life on the line. The handle of the pistol pointed out at him though, not the barrel.

“Well don’t just stand there like a fool, Mr. Crestshot! Take the gun!” Barbossa gestured, and Charles quickly moved to take it. He held it carefully, as if scared it would bite.

“Show me that ye ain’t a boy,” Barbossa graveled. “Fire it at the monkey.” He nodded towards the creature still sitting on his shoulder.

Charles gaped. “But… the monkey is-”

“Blast it all, boy, do it!” Barbossa roared. Charles felt the anger at being called a boy again, and swiftly raised the gun and pulled the trigger. Thunder echoed through the grotto, both from the gun and the storm still raging outside. The monkey shrieked and fell to the ground with a thump.

“Oh, shh, Jack, shh,” Barbossa said to the leaping and growling animal. It skittered onto Barbossa’s arm, and he stroked it gently. His dead blue eyes met Charles’ hazel. “That was a pretty sure shot, lad,” he said. Charles shrugged and tried to hand the weapon back. “Nay, keep it,” Barbossa said. “That weapon be yers, lad. The pistol be yer gift, and not just from me. Keep that handy. I feel it’ll get ye out of more than a few tight spots.”

Charles grasped the pistol surely in his hand. His palm shaped around the butt of the gun, his finger curling around the trigger. Perhaps Barbossa had a point. It just felt right.

“Charles!” a female voice yelled. It was faint as the sound went through the cabin. “Charles!”

“It seems someone be lookin’ for ye lad,” Barbossa said. “Ye’d best be gettin’ outta here. Fair winds to ye.”

Charles nodded. “To you as well, Barbossa,” he said.

“I won’t be gettin’ off this isle, so I won’t be needin’ it,” the man said quietly as Charles left the grotto. He looked back to see Barbossa tossing a green apple in the air and catching it fluidly, again and again, the fruit snapping against his palm, before a turn in the tunnel swallowed him up.

He exited to see that the rain had stopped, but the dark clouds still loomed overhead. There was a small group of people walking down the shore, calling out his name. He saw Sarah at the front, in her now slightly tattered white clothes.

“Sarah!” he called out and he saw his sister turn.

“Charles!” she yelled, and she ran down the beach as fast as her skirt and the sand would allow her. When she reached him, she took him into a huge embrace. “God, I was worried you had been taken by the sea!”

Charles laughed a little and held her tight. “I’m alright Sarah, don’t you worry.” Over her shoulder, the other men from the ship were not nearly as happy, as they glared at them. He let go of Sarah. “Anything wrong, gents?”

The captain stepped forward. “I’ve had enough of this. As sorely tempting as it is to leave you here, on this scrap of an island, we shall continue to Tortuga. Once there, though, my crew and I shall continue on our way.” He began walking away to the dinghy. “I suggest you board, or be lost to the crabs.”



Originally this was going to be an... outtake of sorts, but it fit in so well... so yah.

What say you mates? This is one of my personal favorite scenes. What about you though? I appreciate reviews. Thanks for reading!

-Kat Crestshot

[angel 4ever]

i think its really good! haha i like how barbossa sees a pirate in charles and it showing this is how he starts figure out he is ment to be one its just cool lol

[Crestshot]

Well, I may have RL things going on mates, but I'm still able to get a chapter out to ye. Wouldn't leave you all hanging, aye? So, quickly, for I must go and do things of the theater soon, I give you...

Standoff in Tortuga



At Tortuga, they were swiftly kicked from the ship, their belongings thrown into the sand after them. Charles growled as he picked up the bags and slung them over his shoulder and under his arm. A few people along the beached stopped to point and laugh drunkenly, but they were mostly ignored in favor of rum and fights.

Sarah just stood there, her shoes sinking into the sand as she watched the ship sail away. Charles came up to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. “C’mon Sarah, we have to find someplace to stay.” She merely nodded and let her brother lead her. They walked through fist fights and gunshots as they wandered the town, looking for a place that wasn’t too hostile. There didn’t seem to be one.

A man with yellowed teeth and matted hair crept up to Sarah. “Why hello, lass. What’s a fine lil’ girly like you doin’ lookin’ so sad?” His grind widened. “I can cheer ya up lass… quite well.”

“Back off, bloke,” Charles said threateningly, stepping in front of her.

The dirty man eyed him. “You be her man?” he asked, poking her in the chest.

Charles stood firm. “No, I’m her brother.”

The man got in Charles’ face, close enough for him to smell his rank breath and the smell of alcohol. “Well, if that’s the case, you shouldn’t be opposed if I wan’ to spend a lil’ time with her,” he leered, and tried to get around him.

Charles moved to block him as he pulled out his pistol. “I’m warning you, bloke. Don’t try anything,” he said, pointing the gun right in the man’s face.

He glared up at Charles. “You wouldn’ pull that trigger. It’s against Pirate Code!” he growled, but still looked intimidated by the gun.

“Well then it’s a good thing I’m not a pirate, isn’t it?” Charles responded.

He saw the man begin to slip a hand into his pocket. “C’mon boy, just move aside…”

“Bart!” a voice barked across the road. Charles glanced over to see a small woman with dark – was that green? – hair walk briskly over to them.

“Wha’ trouble ye gettin’ into now, Bart?” the woman asked in a thick Irish accent. Her hands were on her hips as she stared him down. Bart seemed to wither slightly.

“Just tryin’ to ‘preciate a beautiful woman, Luckie,” he muttered.

The woman glanced at Charles, who still had a gun pointed at Bart, and Sarah, who peeked meekly out from behind him. “Aye?” she asked skeptically. “Honestly, go bother Johnny instead, ye daft lump of manure! And pu’ tha’ dagger away, or ye be facin’ the end o’ mine, and ye won’t be gettin’ any biscuits anytime soon!” Bart grumbled and stalked off.

Charles continued to glare after him, even when he had disappeared into the crowd. They hadn’t been there long, and already he hated Tortuga.

“Ye can pu’ the weapon down, lad,” the woman said in a much softer voice. It was only then that Charles realized his pistol was still raised. He hastily put it back in his belt.

“Thank you for your help,” he said to the green haired woman. “Now, excuse us, but we have to find a place to stay tonight.” He picked up the bags he had dropped during the small fight and began heading away.

“Wait,” the woman called. The siblings turned back towards her. “If ye don’ mind me askin’, why were ye pointin’ a pistol at Bart?”

Charles felt his back stiffen. “I felt he was threatening my sister. Nothing more.”

The woman shook her head. “I’ll ‘ave ta berate him abou’ tha’ later,” she muttered. “Come on now, follow me. I may have somethin’ tha’ll help ye ou’.” She began walking away. Charles and Sarah glanced at each other, then Charles shrugged and began following after the woman, Sarah following close behind.

The woman glanced backwards once or twice to be sure they were following, but mostly walked a fast pace until they reached a building with a picture of a pastry on the outside. She stepped past the threshold and motioned for Charles and Sarah to follow. They stepped into a shop filled with the most glorious smells, much different than the rancid Tortuga just on the other side of the door. Both inhaled deeply, cleansing sea salt and dirt from their senses. She noticed the content looks on their faces and smiled.

“Welcome ta the bes’ baker in all o’ Tortuga!” she said proudly. “Come on in the back, I’m sure I go’ somethin’ for ye.” She continued deeper into the building as Charles and Sarah looked about in wonder.

“Alrigh’, let’s see…” the woman muttered, moving a few things around. “Can never remember… aha!” She pulled a sheet away to reveal a nice, thick loaf of bread. “Here ye go, jus’ baked this morn!” she said. She broke two pieces off for the siblings, which they accepted gratefully.

“What’s your name again?” Sarah asked as Charles munched on the bread. “I recall Bart saying it, but don’t remember exactly what it was.”

The woman smiled gently at them. “I’m Luckie. Luckie O’Clover.”



Now you can all go bug Luckie! Haha. Actually, I asked her if she would be in it. I do believe she will be rather fitting, eh? Thanks for letting me borrow your name mate.

Well mates, what do you think? A little shorter than most, but oh well. I'll be listening for the buzz. Thanks for reading!

-Kat Crestshot

[angel 4ever]

lol nice! i never knew lucky was a baker haha! but its very cool thx for the great chapter tooth paste!

[muffin pirate]

Where did you think she gets J's biscuits? LoL Thumbs Up Crest!

- Banned -

[Chris Ironhawk]

Luckie is going to fit RIGHT in! Great choice, Crest.

[Crestshot]

Ahoy, ahoy, and ahoy some more me mates! Ready for another chapter? Well, if you ain't, then just don't read ahead, savvy? Haha. And now, for you specifically - Yes, You POF! - I give you...

Not As They Seem



Luckie had decided to take the pair in after hearing their story. She was a nice woman, and kind, with her bakery open most of the time for those pirates with a sweet tooth. Every once in a while, a poor soul would come into the store without anything to spare, and so thin that he would look like a servant of Jolly Roger. Luckie would grant them some food free of charge, without thought, and send him on his way. In this way, she mostly avoided raids and thieves in her shop.

Her features were delicate, almost like a creature from fairy tales Sarah had loved as a small girl. Dots freckled across her pale face, a sharp contrast to her dark green hair. She was shorter than the both of them, not looking as if she belonged to the ragtag town of Tortuga. Some things are not as they seem though.

They had only been there a few days when a random riot broke out just outside of Luckie’s shop. A man smashed through the door while she stood there, slicing up a fresh loaf of bread. Sarah and Charles had been in the back kneading some dough for her when they heard the crash. They burst from the back to see the man creeping towards Luckie with a worn, yet still useful, cutlass. Charles began to pull his pistol, but Luckie beat him to it, taking the breadknife and flinging it at the intruder. It embedded in the wall next to his head, and the man fled back to the riot. Luckie’s apron fluttered angrily as she moved to close the door.

“An’ Stay out, ye rabid pack o’ jack wagons!” she shouted, before slamming the door. She eyed the knife sticking out of the wall and tsked. “Another hole…” she muttered before pulling it out of the wall. It was then that she noticed Charles and Sarah standing there, mouths agape. She laughed, a tinkling, bell-like sound. “Ye two think I’m ‘ere and don’ know how ta defend meself?” She laughed again. “Come in the back with me, mates. We’ll talk.”

Luckie began kneading the bread the other two had left in their haste. “Ye two can’ believe tha’ I’m in Tortuga ‘cause I wan’ ta be, do ye?” She let out a short, barking laugh this time, with a bitter edge to it. “Nay, tha’ ain’t the case at all.” She sighed and gave the dough a rather vicious hit. “I’m from Ireland, ye probably assumed tha’. I didn’ jus’ come ‘ere ‘cause o’ the fresh blue waters.” Her kneading began going slower and slower as she delved back into the past. “There was a lass… annoyin’ like the devil, she was. Always passed by me house with a sneer an’ insults, even when I tried to be polite. More than once, she practically forced herself into me home to ‘talk’, and I’d find things missin’ later. Ah, how I hated the woman, bu’ no other soul would believe me when I said she was bad. Nay, perfectly glorious was she.

“There finally came a time when me husband walked in to tell me tha’ I had been accused of witchcraft. Apparently, dyin’ me hair in honor o’ St. Patrick didn’ fade quite fast enough. Unnerved people, it did… or a’ leas’ one. Well, before I fled onto a ship headed ‘ere, I stopped by a lil’ cottage with a small flame…” There was a slightly sinister look in her brown eyes. “Bettie go’ her due.”

She seemed to come back from her past then. “Anyway, I ended payin’ for me passage ‘ere by cookin’. When we arrived, it was jus’ the nex’ step for me to open a shop. I’ve learned from experience ‘ere, though, tha’ ye go’ to expect anything, so I quickly learned me way ‘round a blade, and me kitchen knives are useful a lo’ o’ the time as well.” She grinned. “As ye saw. I dabble in a lil’ voodoo as well – I suppose Bettie had a poin’ on tha’ aspect – bu’ nothin’ major.

“Now, ye two,” she said, finishing her beating of the dough and wiping her hands on her apron. “Ye go’ ta learn how ta defend yerselves, aye? We’ll find ye a pair o’ blades and begin learnin’. I know of yer sister, and if yer goin’ to keep up with her, ye’ll need to know yer way around the cutlass. To be hones’, I admire her a lil’; she’s taken ‘er place in the Caribbean withou’ backin’ down.”

Sarah gave a wan smile. “That sounds like Katherine,” she said softly. So their training began.

Luckie obtained a pair of old cutlasses – how, she didn’t tell them – and began teaching them in the ways of the blade. The training was long, tedious, and difficult, with the pair constantly leaving with bruises and small cuts.

When Charles’ hand first wrapped around the handle, he scoffed. “Please, it can’t be that difficult,” he said smugly. He swung it around clumsily, but to him, it appeared fluid and quick.

Luckie grinned. “Try an’ attack me then, lad,” she challenged, raising her own sword. Charles rolled his eyes and tried to charge her, his blade swinging wildly. She sidestepped him, and Charles nearly ran into a wall. He looked around confused for a second before trying again. Luckie met her blade with his this time, parrying it easily. He tried to strike her again and again, but no hit ever came close. Sweat began pouring down his face with the effort, but Luckie just smiled unperturbedly. Suddenly, she switched to offensive, surprising Charles. In just a few quick moves, he found his sword ripped from his hand as he lay on his back, with the tip of Luckie’s sword at his neck.

Luckie burst out laughing and took her blade away from him. “Tha’ was fun! It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good sword figh’!” A sparkle came to her eye. “Unfortunately, mate, tha’ ain’ ye.” She laughed again and held out her hand to haul Charles to his feet. He was properly sheepish now while he listened to Luckie teach them.

After a few weeks, when they had begun honing their new cutlass skills, Luckie introduced them to a small, straw doll. “C’mere, mates, I wan’ ye ta see this,” she said. “Ye know wha’ this is?” she asked, holding up the doll proudly.

Charles and Sarah looked at each other in confusion. “Um… a teeny tiny person that holds your sanity and sense?” Charles offered.

Luckie rolled her eyes at the crack. “Nay, Mr. Crestshot,” she said with only slight annoyance. “’Tis a voodoo doll! C’mon mates, take it an’ jus’ tell me wha’ ye feel.” She handed it to Charles first, who held it for all of 30 seconds before handing it back.

“Nothing here,” he said, shrugging, and Luckie just rolled her eyes again as she handed it to Sarah. She held it delicately, feeling the rough edges of the straw and how brittle it was. There was a tangy, yet earthy smell to it. She turned it around in her hands gently, seeing the age it had, with a smear of dirt here, and the frayed string that held the body together and the arms out. On the next turn around, she noticed something that hadn’t been there before; a face looked as if it were etched into the head. She brought the doll closer to her face.

Charles began leaning over her to look. “What are you loo-”He was cut off by an invisible force pushing him backwards, making him stumble. Sarah’s blue orbs widened in surprise at her brother.

Luckie’s brow furrowed. “Lemme see tha’…” she murmured, and began moving to grab the doll. There was a soft clanging sound, and Luckie was pushed back as well. The three looked at each other in surprise for a few moments, until Sarah looked back at the doll. It’s small face seemed to be smiling up at her, a feature that had not been there before.

Luckie’s shocked face looked at the young woman carefully. “The voodoo is in ye, Sarah,” she said softly. Sarah looked scared, glancing from Charles to Luckie, and she clutched the straw doll tightly in her hands.



If you mates didn't know, each of my in-game characters have their specialties.

Thanks again to Luckie for letting me use her name!

Well mates, tell me what you think! I appreciate reviews, and much thanks for all the ones I've gotten. They warm me little pirate heart when I hear that buzz. Haha, thanks for reading!

-Kat Crestshot

[Nate Redburn]

Just Awesome Karma! Very appropriate casting. Love the references. Please keep these literary masterworks coming

[angel 4ever]

hahaha nice i think its so funny LV is in it lol and the voodoo doll is really cool!! i really like this chapter but i like them all so... awesome story!! haha

[Crestshot]

AWOL? Yes(ish). Going without posting chapters? Of course not! This is the only thing that keeps me sane, haha. So mates, here ya go, nice and hot...

Voodoo



She ran.

Away from the baker. Away from the town. Away from Charles and Luckie. Run, run as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man! The nursery rhyme ran randomly through her head. She didn’t know where it came from, nor did she care. All she did was keep moving, keep running, keep her mind from dwelling on this new information.

Charles had tried to run after her, but out of the corner of her eye, she had seen Luckie gently hold him back, muttering something in his ear. He had settled, but his face still held that worried look. She had burst through the back room, to the front of the shop, to the town, weaving through drunken hoards. Bart noticed her all by herself and tried to approach her again, but that invisible force pushed him back, much like it had Charles and Luckie. She didn’t even notice.

Finally, she had to stop. The town of Tortuga had disappeared far behind her, but the sounds of yelling still echoed after her.

Sarah Crestshot looked down at the small, dried bundle of straw still clenched in her hand. Her brow furrowed and her breathing quickened as the small face appeared again. Its demonic smile was odd, but not malicious. In fact, a strange feeling began to wash over her the longer she stared at it…

She quickly flung it into the leaves before the feeling completely took her over. It made her uncomfortable with its unfamiliarity. She looked down at her hands and saw them shaking. They clenched and unclenched to try and get rid of the tingling and the tremors left over by the doll, but it didn’t help either problem. She sunk to her knees on the damp forest floor and put her head in her hands. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked desperately into the twilight.

“The voodoo is in you,” a voice said from the bushes. Sarah gasped.

A woman walked out from the shadow of the trees. Her dress dragged upon the earth, causing the leaves to rustle and move. Sarah felt the violet eyes pierce her soul.

The woman approached slowly. “You have nothing to fear from it,” she spoke in a calm, slow voice. She knelt by Sarah’s side and held out the doll. “Just as it has nothing to fear from you.”

Sarah looked at her in wonder, yet did not take the doll. “How did you do that?” she asked quietly. “Everyone else was repelled by me.”

The violet eyed woman smiled. “The doll senses no ill will from Fabiola. It knows that I only wish to help.”

Sarah frowned, a small crease appearing between her eyes. “I don’t… understand,” she said slowly.

Fabiola held the doll in her hands, staring at it as she spoke. “Voodoo is more than vengeful spells and mystical chants, Sarah Crestshot.” Sarah started at the sound of her name, but the movement went unnoticed. “It is an entity, a being, that takes its place in those of the natural world. For some, they can learn it, and how to yield its power for their own. Others are merely chosen by it, and do not need the long trials of acquiring it.”

The violet gaze turned to her once more. “For reasons unknown, the voodoo has chosen you. Its power resides in you, ready and willing. This entity will bend to you.”

Sarah’s eyes widened and her hands shook some more. “Me?” she squeaked. Fabiola nodded solemnly.

“But why me?” she burst out, standing suddenly from the damp forest floor. “I never asked for this, never wanted this! I didn’t mean to be chosen! I’m just here to find my sister and bring her home. Give it to someone else, I don’t want this… this…”

“It is power, Sarah Crestshot,” Fabiola said. “Power the likes of which you have never seen, nor known. And because of this, it scares you where it should not. You have nothing to fear from the voodoo.”

“How do you know that?” Sarah shouted. “How do you know it won’t just absorb me and spit me back out? That it won’t drive me insane or make me explode? It’s not normal!” Her voice echoed through the clearing, scaring a few seagulls from a nearby perch. She looked quite manic, with dirt on her white skirt where she had fallen to the ground and her dark hair coming free from its braid.

Fabiola suddenly turned sharp as she rose with Sarah. “Of course it is not normal. Look around you, Ms. Crestshot. You are not in London anymore. This is the Caribbean. Nothing fits your description of normal here.

“The voodoo will protect you,” she continued. “It is not here to cause you harm. Did you not notice how when you held that doll, it repelled what it believed to be threat? The moment your fingers came in contact with that doll, the voodoo within you found a channel to exert its power and make you aware of its presence. You know nothing of it, yet it worked in its crudest form; protection. Protection like a mother bird who sits on her eggs or a lethal snake that defends his home. IT is pure and raw and unfocused.”

“And wouldn’t that make it more dangers?” Sarah retaliated. “If it’s so raw, should that not be reason to fear it?”

“You are not listening, girl!” Fabiola said in her loudest voice yet. “The voodoo does not just reside inside of you. It is you. It has been there your entire life, yet has never had the correct means to reveal itself. To say that it is dangerous, that it will destroy you, is to say that you will destroy yourself! Yet it is no such thing! The voodoo is that primal thing within your soul, the acting without thought, the impulse, that has been leading you since birth and will be with you until the end of time.”

She tossed the doll back to Sarah, and as her hand clenched around it, she suddenly understood. Something flowed within her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and she felt her focus fall on the doll. Whatever was in her reached out towards it, but did not stop there. She felt it in the air around her, in the ground underneath her feet, and so much else she did not know. There were no words to describe it. The voodoo just was.

“I can see it in your face, Sarah Crestshot,” Fabiola whispered. “The dawn has come to you as the sun sets in the Caribbean Sea. You shall be fine now.” She turned her back and began walking back towards the town.

“Wait!” Sarah called, and Fabiola stopped, turning slightly. “How do I control it? There’s so much I don’t know…”

She saw a smile form on Fabiola’s profile. “But you do know. All you must do now is learn.” And she continued to walk away in the fading light.

Sarah just stood there in confusion. “I know, but I must learn?” she muttered. “Well what does that mean?” she shouted into the darkness. The forest gave no response.

Again she looked down at the doll. She felt the power within her revolve and focus around it. Rather than running from it this time, she embraced it, taking the power away from herself and directing it towards the doll. It glowed blue in her hands as it absorbed the voodoo, and the small, demonic face appeared once more.

A rustling in the bush caught her attention. She turned abruptly to it, and a skeleton popped out. Fear invaded her veins as it spoke. “Jolly Roger can always use a new witchdoctor for his army!” it growled menacingly. She glanced down at the doll, and the face had turned into a frown, as if it sensed the danger.

The skeleton charged at her with its small, rusted cutlass. Sarah thrust her hands forward in fear, the doll still in hand, and the skeleton was flung backwards into a tree. It crumpled onto the ground, but sprung back up quickly. Sarah glanced down in shock at her hands, but did not have much time for a reaction, as the skeleton began rushing her again. She felt the voodoo within her, and with startling clarity, she knew what to do.

The skeleton stopped suddenly, mere feet from her, frozen in midair. She gave a swooping motion with the doll, and the skeleton let out a tinny shriek as its bones began crumbling. It tried to struggle, but Sarah held it steady, and in just a moment, it was nothing more than a pile of dust. She was breathing heavily, but slowly, Sarah smiled.

Then a hand covered her mouth, and all she knew was darkness.



My apologies.

Many thanks to Luckie for letting me use her name and play with it a little!

So mates, I adore replies. In fact, thank you muchly for all the reviews left mates! I can't tell you how much I appreciate them. So that's all for this week mates. Thanks for reading!

-Kat Crestshot

[angel 4ever]

aww i want to read more!! haha cool one crest! i love the doll lol and its so cool how fabiola comes in to help sarah and that sarah has to accepted like the other part of her haha its cool

[Crestshot]

Ahoy there mates! Happy (late) Thanksgiving to ye! My apologies on the late hour of this chapter. I was out all day with a second Thanksgiving with family, haha! But, no more delays (even if my computer crashes again. Knock on wood.)! Here, just for you, is...

At Last



Kat Crestshot stood at the wheel of the Lightning Mercenary, taking in the glowing lights of Tortuga at night. It was a welcome sight after the past few months of hard sailing. Their ship had more than a few holes in it from the various encounters they had gotten into with Jolly Roger’s servants, and a few other ships on the side. They had gotten to the point where if one more mystical lightning bolt struck them, it would be their last. O’Malley and Hector should be able to fix them up properly.

Lawrence climbed up from below decks, immediately drawing Kat’s eye. Her first mate was making the rounds on the ship, making sure everything was ready for port. He checked and double checked all the cargo, the sails, the anchor for her, with a young crew member following close behind. A sudden gust of wind blew his hat off, revealing his bright red hair, and she couldn’t help but remember running her hands through it, taking the hat off herself…

She quickly shook the memory away. Now wasn’t the time to be going back to that place. Really, she should never go back to that day. There was no point. She sighed softly and continued to direct the ship towards Tortuga.

They ported without trouble, and Kat left the crew to unload as she went to talk with O’Malley. The shipwright noticed her approaching and said with a grin, “Back again, Ms. Crestshot?”

She rolled her eyes at his gleeful tone. “Yes, O’Malley, and with money for you, you dog.” O’Malley’s grin just grew wider.

“Ye know me too well, miss. Now, how might I be of service?” Kat quickly outlined the problems and damages with her ship. At the end, O’Malley gleefully announced the cost of the repairs, making Kat groan, but she handed over the gold and went back to her ship.

“Oi, everyone, listen up!” she yelled at her crew. They assembled quickly, making her smile slightly at the respect she had gained from them. It had taken a little time; despite their willingness at first to join and serve under her, it hadn’t gone completely smoothly. The men – with a few women thrown in – had not listened quite as they should have. Kat had tried a few different means to get them to listen and respect her: talking to each one on one, then withholding meals, and even a lash a time or two, but nothing worked until the first battle with the skeletons. A few had gone foolishly against her orders, not firing when ordered and not staying with the group when they got on the opposing ship. Many had suffered injuries, and there had been a casualty. That’s when everything had become real for her crew, and they realized that they were truly fighting the battle, not listening to it in the candlelight of a rundown tavern. They began listening after that.

“Alright, we’re going to have some people onboard repairing the ship, starting tomorrow morning!” she yelled out. “Now mates, if I hear of any funny business going on,” she specifically eyed some of her more notable thieves, who squirmed, “you’ll be getting it from me. Savvy?”

A chorus of “Aye aye, Captain,” rang out from her crew. She grinned. “Tim, Mr. Ironhawk, you two have the first watch.” They saluted. “The rest of you, once your jobs are finished, you’re on leave from the ship. As you were.” The crew continued to unload the ship under Lawrence’s watchful eye. He noticed a few people lurking about the cargo, so he slowly drew his dagger and held it loosely at his side. Eyes widened and a few of them scurried away, and Kat caught Lawrence’s eye and grinned. It was always good to be back in Tortuga.

Before long, the cargo was completely unloaded, and the crew went out to join in the insanity that was Tortuga town. Kat checked in with Tim and Chris on watch before grabbing Lawrence and leaving as well. It had been a long time since she’d had a nice chat with Fabiola.

The gypsy sat next to a large fire near her cart with a small flute, playing a tune that had drawn people around in a jovial, laughing crowd. Kat and Lawrence approached the flames with smiles on their faces, watching two men dance away to the song. People stomped their feet in time to the music, dust clouds puffing up from the dirt. The men in the center stepped out, tired from their dance, and another man stepped in.

“C’mon c’mon mates! Let’s see another show their skill!” he called out, looking at the crowd. He spotted Kat and Lawrence standing side by side, and grabbed their hands to pull them in. “C’mon man, take yer gal here and show us how it’s done!” Lawrence shrugged and took her hand to spin her around, and Kat noticed Fabiola’s smile around her flute.

They laughed and spun and lost themselves in the dance. Lawrence seemed to take great pleasure in pulling her close for a moment, and then spinning her away. Back and forth, round and round they moved in the flickering light of the flames, and for once, their fancy footwork was not being used to evade the claws of death. It was just fun and uncomplicated, the freedom of the song.

They let out a final laugh as Fabiola finished her flute with a flourish. The crowd began to disperse, some staying behind to warm themselves by the flames. Lawrence bowed to a few admirers leaving tips and such, acting like a complete fool. Kat laughed at him before turning to Fabiola.

“How have you been, Fabiola? Still providing hangover remedies to the poor souls of this town?”

The gypsy laughed, placing her flute down in her cart. “My best business, as you know, my friend. Things have been as they always have been.”

Kat leaned against the small, wheeled home. “Aye? Well, come now, something must be new mate,” she laughed.

Fabiola smiled wanly. “Well, actually, there’s a pair of people that recently arrived that might be worth mentioning.” Her violet eyes slowly came to meet the pirate’s hazel. “Kat, your brother and sister are here.”

Kat’s eyes widened, and she sat up from the cart. “What?” she whispered.

“What?” Lawrence barged in, done with his admirers.

But Kat wasn’t listening. The sounds of Tortuga disappeared, as did the light form the fire, and the woman standing in front of her. She was trying to picture her siblings, the people she had never thought she would see again, in all of their refinery, and place them in the insanity surrounding her. Her mind wouldn’t wrap around it. She had so many questions. Why were they here? How were they here? Had something happened in England? But the first question…

“Where are they?” she asked Fabiola.

The gypsy nodded towards a busier part of town. “They have been staying at the bakery. They were fortunate enough to find someone to take them in.”

Kat took Fabiola’s hand. “Thank you, my friend,” she said, and took off towards town.

“Where is who?” called a confused Lawrence to her fleeing back. He looked to Fabiola, who nodded. With a sigh, he ran after Kat…again. The things he did for this woman.

Kat ran through the dirt streets in the dark night looking for the bakery. She wracked her memories of the month’s time she had spent here last year, trying to remember where it was. A right here, a left here, past the trading office… there! She skidded to a halt in front of a small building with a cupcake on the outside. For a moment, she just stood there looking at it, knowing who could be in there. As she stalled, Lawrence had caught up. Actually, he almost ran past her.

He came to stand next to her. “Who is in there, Kat?” he asked her, sensing it wasn’t the time to interrogate about her sudden running away.

“My family,” she murmured. She took a small step towards the door, hesitated, then continued on, with Lawrence following.

Kat opened the door slowly. Nobody was at the front of the shop. “Hello?” she called out. She seemed to have forgotten that it was late at night.

Footsteps were heard coming from the back of the shop. A green haired head popped into view. “If yer lookin’ to thieve, I’d suggest ye jus’ get out now. I ain’t in tha mood.” She came fully into view, and Kat saw a shiny knife in her pale hand.

Kat sensed Lawrence moving to pull his own out behind her, but put a hand on his to stop him. She held her own hands up in submission to reveal no weapons. “Easy there mate,” she said slowly. “I’m just looking for some people. Look, do you know-”

“Katherine?!” another voice cried from the back. A frazzled looking Charles ran to the front of the store, his brown hair rumpled and his eyes wide. They landed on her, and he let out a short, yet loud cry of delight. “Katherine!!” he yelled again. The counter was no obstacle as he leapt over it and picked up his sister in sheer joy. Tears came to Kat’s eyes as she held the brother she hadn’t seen in over three years.

When he finally set her down, they both exploded with questions. “What are you doing here?” “What happened to you?” “Did something go wrong in England?” “How have you survived this long?”

There was finally the question that stopped Charles in his tracks. “Where’s Sarah?”



Actually, this chapter was going to be longer, but we can all blame my family for not giving me time to write.

Thanks again to Luckie O'Clover! Hats off to you mate!

Well, I'm always interested to hear what you think, mates. Come now, criticism or celebration, I don't mind. I'm listening for the buzz, haha. Thanks for reading!

-Kat Crestshot

[angel 4ever]

i vote........ CELEBRATION! haha this was a really good chapter as well hurry up with the next one!! Lol


(and i know i keep posting on like every chapter sry bout that but i like them haha)

[KeeperOfTheCode]

It's been a while since I've been on the forums, and I must say, very nice!