Now that Who are You Now? is done, new story! :D
A few months ago, I had a poll that had several samples as choices for me to continue and Bring Me the Horizon had 4 votes. XD
Bs13's story You're a Pirate, I'm a Princess inspired this story. :)
Enjoy!
With a gasp, Jerome Clarke surfaced the rolling waves of the ocean. Lightening split across the sky and rain poured from the black clouds. He pushed his wet, blonde hair away from his face and watched the Black Dawn sink to the depths of the sea. He breathed heavily and looked around for any sign of his crew. His eyes landed on his First Mate, Alfie Lewis, a few yards away from him. He swam to the dark-skinned man's limp body quickly and wrapped his arm around his waist. He lugged him to a floating piece of ship debris and slung his form over the wooden plank.
Jerome swallowed and looked at Alfie's head—as closely as he could in the rain that pounded into his back—checking for any sign of an injury. When he found that nothing was visible, he tried to ease himself into a relaxed state, but he found it incredibly difficult for several reasons:
First, his ship just sank, and he was several days away from the last port.
Second, he had no food or water.
Third, he wasn't sure if the only crew member he could find was even alive.
He was in deep water. Quite literally, too.
When he felt Alfie stir under his arm, which he was using to hold him up onto the plank, he was flooded with relief. At least he'd have someone to talk to.
And then the rain slowed to a complete stop.
Things were starting to look up.
He sighed, "Alfie, you alright, mate?"
He coughed and nodded, his brown eyes opening slowly and squinting against the harsh sun of the afternoon. "Yeah, I think so."
"Good, what would I do without my Cabin Boy?" he joked.
Alfie gave him a deadpanned look, "Quartermaster."
"Oh right," Jerome nodded, running his fingers through his hair again.
"What are we going to do without a ship?" Alfie asked after a few moments of silence, their bodies bobbing with the waves steadily.
"Nothing; we have to wait for another ship, or swim to the next port."
"But the next port could be miles away. I'm not even sure where we are. The storm might have set us off course, if only slightly."
Jerome stared out at the horizon. According to the sun, they were facing south. If they headed west, they'd be going to the last port they had docked at, which at least four days away by ship. And swimming would lengthen that time immensely. If they went north, they would probably be swimming aimlessly for days before they ever find any sign of land. A ship was their only hope.
"You know me, though," he grinned. "I've got nine lives like a cat."
"And you've used more than twelve in the last six years." Alfie chuckled. "And what about me? You're the one that's got the reputation—I can die!"
"You'll be fine, Alf." Jerome assured him with a pat on the shoulder. "I need you anyway. I need someone to back me up. If we're picked up by a ship, we better hope they don't know who I am. They could kill me, turn me in for some kind of reward, or hold me for ransom."
"So what if the crew on that ship over there recognizes you?"
Jerome's gaze snapped to the left, where Alfie was pointing over the Captain's shoulder. He studied the vessel for several minutes, and as it grew closer, he shook his head. "It's a Spanish ship. My reputation is well known to Spaniards, but my face may be unidentifiable."
"Let's hope," Alfie sighed, and they raised their hands, calling out to the ship.
Alfie rested his forehead against the cold bars of the gate that led to the brig. On the other side of the door, the Spanish captain walked away, leaving the small room in silence.
Jerome leaned against the wall behind Alfie and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, this is better than being killed, right?"
"But we're going to be held here for at least a few months. They're sailing back to Spain. Who knows if they'll even give us food? I've never been in the brig before—Jerome, what do we do?"
"Alfie," Jerome said firmly, grabbing his shoulders. "The first thing you need to do is calm down. Don't get so worked up over little things like this. We'll be fine. Have faith in me, mate."
Alfie took a deep breath and nodded his head. "Alright, I-I can do that. Jerome?"
"Yes, Alfred?"
"What happens if this ship sinks?"
Jerome groaned.
Jerome stood up and looked out the porthole. He didn't bother trying to get it open, the glass was nailed shut and there was nothing to pry it off with. The salty water splashed up onto the window and the view to the sea was blurred momentarily. Running his fingers through his hair and closing his blue eyes briefly, he turned to Alfie as he paced. "Alfred."
"Jerome, it's been four days. What are we going to do? At least we're being fed. But…how are we going to find…" Alfie lowered his voice to a whisper, his eyes cautiously drifting to the guard that stood beside the door, "How are we going to find, um…Ruby?"
"Don't you think I've been trying to figure that out? I haven't stopped thinking about her in weeks." Jerome sighed.
"Hey, where's your ring?" Alfie hissed.
Jerome looked out the porthole again and folded the cuff of his long sleeve shirt back, revealing a small, barely visible pocket sewn into the fabric. "I've got Amber to thank for that."
Alfie grinned, running a hand over his head. "Got a plan yet?"
Jerome smirked, eyeing the horizon. "If I know pirates, then yes, I do have a plan. Of sorts."
When the brig door swung open, Jerome and Alfie shot up off the floor. The pirate that unlocked the gate smirked, tossing them a couple swords. "Coming?" he asked, and didn't wait for an answer as he rushed onto the deck.
Jerome arched an eyebrow at Alfie and his First Mate shook his head in amazement. He was right again.
The blonde was the first out of the cell and climbed to the deck. On his way, he passed a few dead crew members. He grabbed a pistol from one of them, tucking it into the waistband of his brown pants, and thrust his sword into the chest of a Spaniard. On the deck, chaos had taken over and most of the Spanish crew was dead.
Jerome barely noted that the pirates had several female crew members, before he sprang into action, focusing his attention on several Spaniards that charged him. In several slices, they lay dead at his feet, and he searched the pirates and sailors for the Captain of the pirate ship.
Across the deck of the Spanish boat, Jerome spotted the blonde.
"Jerome, what's the plan now?" Alfie asked.
"We go with that ship and join the crew." He shrugged as if it was obvious, brushing through the disorder as if he was taking a walk in a park.
"But…is that really a good idea—" Alfie cried out in sudden pain when a sword speared his chest. He collapsed onto the deck and Jerome killed the Spanish captain in pure anger.
Jerome knelt beside Alfie and swung his arm over his shoulders. "You moron," he chuckled teasingly. He wasn't trying to make Alfie feel better; he was trying to prevent himself from panicking as he hauled his best friend toward the edge of the ship.
"Is he okay?"
Jerome looked over his shoulder at a dark-skinned woman as she rushed up to them. She took Alfie's other arm and they slowly walked across the plank that had been used to make a bridge between the two ships. Alfie coughed violently, blood dribbling down his chin.
"I'll go get our medic." The woman said, rushing off, and Jerome sat beside Alfie where they had set him on the deck of the ship, The Shadow of Ra.
Jerome barely heard the captain call out for everyone to head back to their ship with whatever they had taken from the Spanish vessel. The Spanish ship was slowly sinking, the masts burning.
The crew was cheering, but Jerome was breathing heavily, waiting for that girl to hurry up and find the medic as Alfie struggled for breath beside him.
"This is Fabian, our Boatswain and medic." The woman introduced, finally appearing.
Fabian knelt beside Alfie and began examining the wound. Jerome stood up when the captain walked up behind the woman.
"Let's go, KT." He said and she nodded, jogging off to her post at the wheel, steering away from the wreckage. The captain fingered the handle of his sword. "Captain Eddie Miller."
Jerome took a deep breath. "Jerome."
Eddie's green eyes narrowed. "What ship did you sail on, Jerry?"
Jerome's eyes hardened at his condescending tone. "The North Star."
Fabian stood up and tapped Jerome's shoulder. "Your friend will be okay, but we need to get him down to the quarters."
Jerome breathed out in relief and helped take Alfie down to the bunks.
Eddie followed. "What happened to the North Star?"
Jerome turned to the captain, following him as he made his way out of the quarters. "It sank a few days ago in a storm."
Eddie nodded, leading him to the Captain's quarters. He sat at his desk and propped his feet onto the wood. "What was your position on the North Star?"
"Striker," Jerome lied easily.
Eddie nodded. "And your friend?"
"Alfie was a Cabin Boy."
"I could use one of those, as well as a new Striker."
"Where's this ship headed?" Jerome asked.
"Somewhere you need to be?" Eddie retorted.
"No, just wondering," Jerome shrugged and left the quarters without another word. Once he stepped onto the deck, he was met by a woman with auburn hair.
"Quartermaster Patricia Williamson," she stated. "I'm assuming the Slimeball gave you a job?"
Jerome arched an eyebrow.
"That's KT Rush the Ship Master, whom you've already met. That's Mick Campbell, our Master Gunner. And you've already met our Boatswain and the Captain. Do what you want, but don't do anything stupid." She ordered.
Jerome gritted his teeth. "I was just going to check on my friend, if you don't mind?"
She shrugged, stalking off.
Jerome sighed quietly and hurried down to the quarters where Alfie was resting.
"Old habits reappear, fighting the fear of fear. Growing conspiracy, everyone's after me. Frayed ends of sanity, hear them calling, hear them calling me." -The Frayed Ends Of Sanity, Metallica
-Rachel