Do Not Own One Piece
Rain fell mercilessly onto the ship below, large waves battered the boat around and crimson blood dripped from the ships sides. Lightning flashed showing a glimpse of the battle below.
A young girl around 12 held tightly to the railing as another large wave came crashing down washing away most of the limp bodies that were scattered across the deck. The girl did not feel pity nor did she feel sorry for these people but strangely happy. Happy that they were being thrown around at the mercy of the sea, happy that they were feeling helpless at the sight of the towering waves, happy that they now felt how she felt for the past four years.
She quickly snapped out of it she spotted a large wave growing at the edge of the storm heading straight for their stern. . These pirates called it a killing wave for it was the last and most deadly of a storm and it was heading at them at an incredible speed. If she knew well it should reach them within fifteen minutes. She had to reach the small boats and quickly before the ship was ripped to smithereens.
The girl slowly stood up, blood welling around her right shoulder and her left ankle turning a dark black but that didn't stop her from walking to the small boat tied up on the starboard. She just had to reach it. She had to get away and nothing was going to stop her.
A blade glistened in her right hand as lightening struck the wild sea barely missing them by an inch. Many more blades shined from where they were wrapped around her waist, each one drenched in crimson blood from both herself and each crew mate she slaughtered to reach the deck. The girl now stood only feet from the small boat. Excitement welled up in her chest, so much she didn't even feel the pain that burned in her ankle as she burst into a run. She was so close to freedom she could taste it.
"Where do you think you're going," a voice growled from behind her. The girl froze in fear, slowly turning around only to see the captain of the Klaud Pirates, the most fearsome in the North Blue. In his right hand, he held a woman by the throat practically crushing her air ways so that she could hardly breathe. "Run Fin," the lady weased barely above a whisper "RUN!"
2 Years later
"An Island! An Island! An Island!" a man hollered from his Dinghy boat. The man went by Trent and was very tall around 6 ft, but if you include his spiky black hair it would be 6'2". He wore a dark green e shirt that was vertically torn on the front showing off a large diagonal scar from his shoulder to his hip. Trent also wore dark blue jeans that were soaked in sea water and sun glasses masked his dark green eyes. The last and most peculiar thing about this man though was the large black duffel bag that was draped around his right shoulder.
Trenton suddenly collapsed making the boat rock but not waver from its initial course. The lack of food for the past few days was starting to reach him and made his stomach growl for much needed food. On the way to this island he crammed himself with a lot of meat fish and fruit which was intended for five days in two. He did manage to catch some fish to cook but the charred area on the back of the boat is proof enough it was a terrible disaster. Now it's been two days since he had his last meal, a large amount of mince meat, and his stomach craved for much more meat!
As the boat got closed in to the island, the many scents of spices wafted to his nose only making his stomach growl louder. Lucky for him, before long he reached the island and he hurriedly docked his boat before taking off for the nearest tavern. The man ran in as a blur sitting himself quickly at the bar. The customers who were already sitting at a few scattered tables couldn't help but stare at him especially at the suspicious duffel bag around his shoulder. A large old man who stood behind the counter gave him a wicked glare before attending to what he wanted. The large Ossan had to if he wanted this guy to stop his rambling for food.
"What do you want?" the Ossan roared so he could be heard over the muttering idiot. Trenton gave the Ossan a wide smile taking a deep breath before listing a bunch of food that he would like to eat and for one thing he said meat 10 times throughout that list of his. The Ossan looked in disbelief at the man. "Are you sure you can pay for all that?" Before the Ossan could say anything else a large pouch was thrown on the counter spilling a few gold coins in the process. "So how about that food," he said through a large grin.
"Right away sir," the Ossan said nervously as he stumbled into a door. The Ossan has not seen that kind of money for ages after the marines made dock here. It's perfectly natural to feel surprised. Trenton watched the Ossan stumble inside a door and he guessed that was the way to the kitchen. Only a few minutes passed when the Ossan re-appeared along with a dozen of plates for Trenton to eat. He licked his lips greedily as the food was placed in front of him. With knife and fork in hand he crammed all the food he could down his throat. First meat then rice then pasta then soup and it went on and on until all that was left on his plates was sauce and crumbs. "My compliments to the Chefs," he said while using a toothpick to pick at the food between his teeth.
The Ossan nodded with a hearty laugh. "That whole meal was actually made by our one and only Chef." The man looked up in surprise leaning back on his bar stool. "Really? In only five minutes too? Who is he, may I meet him?" A rag was thrown at his face and he collapsed to the floor. "What the hell," he muttered as he held the back of his head. "You shouldn't be so sexist about cooks," a voice snapped from the kitchen door. "Whose that Ossan?" The man asked pointing at the girl who stood in the doorway. "Ah, that's our cook, Fin."
Heh, my First Story. How do you guys like so far?
By the way I'm only gonna make the next chapter if you people give me three reviews and please light on the flames. I repeat First story.
Oh yeah and one more thing, Ossan means Old Man if you guys didn't figure that out already.
