A Creeping Sense of Dread by phantasmaree, literature
Literature
A Creeping Sense of Dread
SeaCat kicked out, landing a strike square on Scarblade’s jaw, sending him backwards. “Insolent wretch–” he spat blood, “maybe some time in the brig will make you a little more amenable.” The cell was dark and damp, and a smell reminiscent of rotting sea life lingered in the air. They had taken her to the very back of the brig, presumably hoping the leakiest and dankest cell would scare some sense into her. Still, Seacat saw it as an improvement. She may have given herself up hostage voluntarily, but like hell was she going to let that deranged lupe get handsy with her. She pulled against the ropes binding her wrists. Scarblade had left her hands tied ever since she’d offered herself hostage–the one smart thing he’d done all night. If her hands had been untied, she thought to herself, he would’ve received much worse than a kick in the face. She looked around for anything useful. It was a clear night, with a bright full moon, and slivers of said moon’s light managed to slip in
Jacques woke cold, damp, and with a throbbing headache. With a groan, he pushed himself up on his elbows. A wave of nausea washed over him. Oh Fyora, what happened last night...
He opened his eyes. It took a moment for his foggy mind to make sense of his surroundings. The room was dimly lit. He was laying on the floor. The floor was...unpleasant? Mildewy? He noticed vertical bars.
Oh.
He sat up and pushed his fingers through his hair. The side of his head was matted with dried blood. That explained the headache. He desperately tried to recall what had happened, casting around the threadbare cell for answers. He himself had only the clothes on
When a Cat's lives run out... by RL-182, literature
Literature
When a Cat's lives run out...
To a pirate they say death is a natural part of life, and that a true pirate is able to feel the day they're supposed to die, that a pirates life is nothing but sheer sacrifice and loss. Some would agree… and in other cases, they'd consider those fighting words. In most cases it could be considered humorous, but not now… not after they'd seen her fall and had been unable to catch or stop the lass’ decent to the cold hard ground below.
They hadn't heard the landing or anything to indicate something was wrong except both crewmates knew this ledge and the fall that followed was lethal. Jacques always the fastest reached her fi
A lazy heat hung over Krawk Island. It seemed to sap the energy out from everything, the humidity making every movement feel laborious. Even the nuisance bugs buzzed only halfheartedly. Jacques sat back against the cargo crates, sword and polish in his lap. He let his head loll back to gaze up at the sky. Clear, blue. For once, the island’s usual overcast and gloom had abated. Fyora, but at what cost? He thought. Can’t even enjoy the sun with this blasted heat.
A shadow fell over his vision then, and Jacques squinted.
“When’s captain Garin coming back? Did he say?”
“Talak...” he sighed.
“Yeah?
Contest Entry: Fire and Brimstone by WingsOfASong, literature
Literature
Contest Entry: Fire and Brimstone
Hannah the Brave was renowned around Neopia as an excellent treasure hunter and adventuress. Despite this, the pretty Usul also had the worst timing. She had been caught by Bloodhook of all creatures trying to sneak aboard the notorious Revenge for a worn treasure map leading to something called a fire ruby. Bloodhook clamped his feathery hands around the Usul's mouth to keep her from screaming as he dragged her up to the fearsome Lupe captain.
"Caught ourselves a little eavesdropper, Scarblade." The Eeyrie said with a wicked chuckle.
"Kill them. They're no use to us." Scarblade growled without turning around. Bloodhook raised an eyebrow.
It was a dark, stormy night on the open seas. The clouds overhead spat lightning and thunder in every direction. Rain fell from the sky hard enough to pelt the ship crossing the sea, and throwing the waters around in massive uncontrollable waves. Despite all this though, the single ship pushed on as if unafraid and even mocking the natural elements that surrounded it. While on the inside of this ship, sat the captain.
The Lupe sat in his chair, in his personal cabin, on board his own personal ship. With his fingers intertwined with each other, he knew straight away that he had a problem. His problem was of course with the captain of another
"I'm going to offer ye a choice, hearties!" Scarblade, the evil Lupe captain of the Revenge sneered at the captured crew of the Black Pawkeet. He had Hannah the Brave by the hair and held a sword to her throat, and his enemy's dagger stowed in his belt. Normally this tactic would end in drastic failure on the Lupe's part, but Garin the Foolish the evil pirate's intended target, was out of ideas. Though he was just as cunning as the legendary Jack Sparrow, it seemed his penchant for coming up with plans on the spot was failing him now. He was too full of unholy rage at the ugly pirate in front of him. Crossing his arms in front of his chest,