Late afternoon and the sun began to set on the Caribbean Sea. Its fiery glow set the sky ablaze, the entire backdrop was a water colored canvas of reds, blues and oranges gleaming radiantly as the flaming ball slowly sank beneath the ocean's waves. With the final hints of magenta and cerulean blues fading under the darkness of midnight blue and violet, the silhouette of a merchant ship slowly pulled into port off the coast of Nevis. As its crew and passengers exited the vessel, the dark blue sky made the now empty ship appear to float above the black abyss that was the ocean, reflecting the millions of stars in the sky as they danced and flickered in the reflections of the rippling ocean current. However, even the light of the numerous diamonds, which remained pasted to the black velvet skies, were no match for the shining lunar gem - the full moon - powerfully showering the docks in its silver glow and leading the soft rhythm of weary footsteps home.
Slow and steady, the footsteps continued on their journey through the resting village. Finally reaching the main street of the town, the footsteps- at a gentle and moderate pace- lead their walker, a middle-aged Englishman, down the lantern-lit streets and up a winding road to a small house surrounded by flowers and a small apple tree. Slowly opening the elegant copper gate and making his way up the path to the house, the man paused to pick a fresh green apple from the tree. Upon doing so, the man gently polished the apple on his sleeve while looking down at the beautiful apple blossoms that littered the front yard and surrounding area of the tree; the gentle pastel colors of pink and white, set against the bold green of the apples and the darkness of the night enticed him to pluck two of the little apple blooms from the tree and carry them- along with his freshly picked snack- into his home. Standing before his front door, the man placed his hand on the knob and prepared to enter, but before doing so he paused to take a final look behind him at the full moon still floating gracefully above the sea. Smiling at the sight, the peaceful Englishman turned back to his home and entered.
Once inside the man looked around at his humble abode, the soft light of glowing candles gave the vacant foyer a calming sense of warmth and safety. Slowly the man made his way into the kitchen area and placed his apple on the table before making his way up the stairs. On his way up, the man looked around at the dark bedrooms and smiled; a step away from the top of the staircase the man looked to his left and noticed a small handkerchief left lying in front of a nearby doorway. Delicately, the man bent down and picked up the little square of fabric, soft and light, he held the small piece of lavender blue and gold silk in his hand, tentatively caressing it with his thumb as he sighed and whispered a woman's name to himself. Upon rising to his feet, the man noticed an old woman exiting from one of the rooms. Smiling sweetly, the elderly woman- a maid- greeted the man with a nod and welcomed his arrival, "Hello Master Radcliffe," she said cheerfully. "Welcome home sir."
"Good evening Carroll," replied the man with a smile.
"And how was your trip to Port Royal, if I may ask?"
"A success," replied Mr. Radcliffe as he returned to his feet and prepared to tell the woman about his experience. After a moment of conversation, the maid noticed the handkerchief in her master's hand.
"Oh you found it," she chirped in regards to the piece of cloth. "Young Oxana was looking everywhere for it. Refused to rest 'til she'd found it." With a soft chuckle, the merchant held up the object for a moment, then remembered the apple blossoms still resting in his other hand.
"Ah yes, and how were the children?" he asked as he peeked into the nearby doorway. "I don't expect that they were too much trouble?"
"The twins? Of course not Sir," replied the maid. "They were little darlings as always; just as cheerful and lively as their dear mother was."
"Yes," sighed the man as he looked back down at the handkerchief sentimentally. "Madeline…"
"My apologies Sir," said the old woman in regards to her master's saddened expression. "T'was not my place to mention Mrs. Radcliffe."
"It's alright," he replied softly as he peeked his head back into the room and smiled at the two children who peacefully slept inside. "You're right," he continued as he entered the nursery and proudly beamed over the twin girls. Silently he bent down between the two beds and took out the two apple blossoms, resting one on either girls' pillow. He then took the blue and gold handkerchief and turned to the little girl on his right. Sound asleep, the little girl- no older than five- remained silent and still as her father stroked her arm before gently placing the kerchief in her open palm. He then turned to his left and caressed the cheek of the other sleeping child, his large pale hand running over her lightly freckled face; the man couldn't help but grin as she reacted to his presence. Still sound asleep, she slowly turned toward him- her face nestled into his palm as she yawned and smiled. After watching over his children a moment longer, the proud father gently kissed both girls goodnight before slowly rising to his feet and quietly exiting the room. Back in the hall, the man bid his chambermaid goodnight before retiring to his study. Once there, he calmly sat at his desk and removed a small pouch from his overcoat which he opened and emptied onto his desk. As the weary merchant poured out the contents of the pouch the candlelit desk soon began to shine with the reflected sparkle of shillings and coins, his pay from the week's trip to Port Royal. Examining each coin and currency, he organized his money and divided it around his desk: silver, copper, gold… suddenly in the midst of his gold pieces, the good merchant came across a strange coin. Larger than all the other pieces, the odd coin was thick and intricately designed- a large skull etched into the center, and surrounded by other unique designs. Intrigued by the odd piece of gold, the man picked up the coin and held it in his hand, further studying it in the light; but after a moment the coin was quickly dropped in response to a startling jolt that pulsed through his hand. Alarmed and still perplexed, Mr. Radcliffe picked the piece of gold up from the floor and placed it back on the desk- off to the side, away from his more familiar forms of currency.
As the merchant continued to count his earnings in his room, outside, the moon maintained its unearthly glow over the small British colony and the ocean below; but even the powerful glow of the moon was no match for the ghostly fog that slowly began to cover the sea and dock, and completely engulf the moon. Now cloaked in complete darkness, the little colony was blinded and defenseless against the ominous shadow that crept across the water. Slow and creepily, the great black shadow moved toward the docks; as it grew closer, the once amorphous shadow began to take shape, a demonic black ship. With its slashed black sails, splintered moldings and dark aura, the rogue ship appeared to float into port on its own, carried in on the current of the fog. Cannons ready, the ship dropped anchor and under the still of the night, maintained its ethereal stance, levitating above the bottomless ocean.
Back inside his home, the merchant had just risen from his desk and prepared for bed. Sleepily walking towards his bed, the weary man released a prolonged yawn and openly stretched in front of his window. Taking a brief look outside, the man, confused, stared out into the oddly blank sky. With the sudden disappearance of the stars, he could only stare in bewilderment at the now haunted appearance of the land outside; completely unaware of the eminent danger that lurked out on the docks, the man's gaze remained glued to the window until a sudden thump pulsed through the room, causing everything to shake. Once he'd regained his footing, the man immediately opened the window and peered outside. Again there was another huge pulse that rushed through the house, knocking the merchant to the floor and waking his children in the nursery across the hall. Awake and frightened the two girls began to cry out for their father, as the terrifying sounds of gunshots and cannon fire began to thunder through the town. Hearing his daughters' cries, the merchant sprung to his feet and prepared to race toward their room; but just at the head of the stairs he was stopped short as the front door was blasted open!
Staring in horror, the frightened merchant watched as several men, filthy and ragged, entered the house and plundered the lower level. Frozen stiff, he watched in horror as Carroll was brutally shot point blank and fell to the floor in a heap. Soon after the gunshot, there was a blood curdling scream from outside the house as another cannon explosion lit up the night sky. Instinctively, the merchant turned back to his room and prepared to reenter when the soft whimpering of a child caught his attention. "D-Daddy," stammered the voice, its owner standing in the doorway beside her sister. Immediately the merchant whirled around and ran to his children.
"Girls!" he shouted as he grabbed both children in his arms. "Go back inside! Wait in the closet; stay calm and quiet. I'll be there soon. Go, now!" he commanded as he pushed both girls back into their room and shut the door behind them. Still hearing their cries, he repeated his orders before rushing back to his room and retrieving his shotgun from a nearby drawer. After making sure it was loaded with gunpowder, he returned to the stairs and slowly made his way down to the kitchen.
Meanwhile in the nursery, the two girls continued to cry and scream for their father. "Daddy!" shouted one of the girls as she coward in the corner, a blue and gold handkerchief wrapped tightly in her hands. Tears rolling down her cheeks she screamed his name a second time before being silenced by her sister.
"Shh Oxana," the little girl whispered as she pushed her sister into the closet. "Father told us to wait here and be quiet!" she then took a final look around their nursery before entering the closet herself and closing the door. "He said he was coming, he'll be here." She said while peeking through the small crack in the door. Trembling in fear the little girl continued to keep watch through the tiny crack, watching the flashing lights and hearing the screams and shouts echoing from outside the room. Seeing a shadow dash up the stairs, the little girl instantly assumed that her father had returned and anxiously waited for him to join her and her sister in their shelter. But after several moments without any sign of her father she became worried and opened the closet door. Nervously she searched the room for her father. With no sign of him she walked across the nursery and proceeded to exit the room, only to be stopped by her sister.
"Where are you going?" the little girl whispered. "Daddy told us to wait here."
"I'm going to find him," child replied bluntly. "Stay here. I'll be back."
"But Peyton-"
"I'm the oldest and I said stay here," commanded the little girl, looking back at her still crying sister. Making sure that she'd stayed behind, the girl cautiously made her way out of the dark nursery and into her father's room across the hall. Once inside she was terrified to find the room in shambles. Everything had been ransacked and torn apart and on the floor lay a pile of dirt and coins. Curious, the little girl prepared to investigate the odd pile on the floor but suddenly she heard the voices of men and immediately took cover behind her father's overturned bed. Silent and scared stiff, the little girl watched as three men exited her father's study and excitedly ran down the stairs. 'Pirates!' she thought to herself as the horrifying reality sunk in. 'Those were pirates!' Though frightened, the little girl was drawn to the group of pirates and warily followed them down the stairs. As she made her way down, she heard the sound of the nursery door slowly creaking open. "Oxana," the little girl whispered as she signaled for her sister to go back inside and shut the door. Slowly she continued to creep down the stairs, staring at the distorted shadows of people moving about in the candlelight. At the bottom of the stairs, the little girl quickly made her way into the foyer and hid beneath a smashed table as she watched the three filthy men from upstairs rush to the kitchen and meet up with another man clothed in black- their captain. She listened as they eagerly spoke to the dark man and placed something in his hands. Though she couldn't see his face- which remained shielded under the shadow of a large black feathered hat- the child found herself unable to move; both frozen in terror and entranced by his very presence as he stared down at the mysterious object his hand. With a chilling sigh, the mysterious pirate nodded to his men as he slowly strolled to a nearby table and picked up an apple and held it in his filthy hand. Polishing it on his sleeve as he walked, the hellish man began to laugh to himself as he strode through the kitchen and into the foyer. Afraid she'd been spotted, the little girl crouched further behind the table and held her breath as the man began to speak.
"Hm, and I thought ye said ye didn't have what we were lookin' for?" asked the pirate, his voice rough and gritty. Confused as to who he was talking to, the little girl's question was soon answered as she watched two of the pirates drag her father forward. Bruised and bleeding, he remained unresponsive for a moment, before the dark man approached him and grabbed his face, turning it in his direction. "Weren't those your exact words Mr. Radcliffe?"
"And, I meant them," replied the merchant, coughing up blood as he spoke. Seeing her father's distressing state the little girl wanted to leave her hiding place and run to his side, but with that demonic pirate standing over him, she found herself unable to move, or look away.
"Well Mr. Radcliffe," said the man as he examined the apple in his hand. "It would appear that you were not true to your word…" Weakly, the wounded merchant gazed up at the pirates standing around him. "And therefore, there's no need for me to keep mine…" the pirate continued with a chilling cackle as he drew a shotgun and pointed it at the merchant's head! Still watching from behind the table, the little girl felt her blood run cold as she watched her father look up at the pirates one last time before suddenly noticing his terrified daughter cowering behind her broken hiding spot. Without saying a word, the battered father exchanged tearful glances with his daughter one last time before a sudden cracking explosion blasted through the house. Jumping in reaction to the gunshot, the little girl became pale as she watched her father's lifeless body drop to the floor at the feet of the now laughing pirates. His eyes still open, the deceased merchant's motionless body remained slumped on the ground, his glassed eyes gazing up at the demonic man in black as he took a single bite of the large green apple before carelessly dropping it on the floor and exiting the vandalized house with his men and their prize.
Immediately after they'd departed, the little girl sprang from her hiding place and ran to her father's side. Tears welling in her eyes, she strained to call his name. When he didn't respond, she picked up his hand and placed it on her face as she began to sob and scream for her father to answer. Hearing her sister's cries, the other little girl rushed down the stairs only to pause in shock at the scene that had been set before her. Still staring in silence, the little girl looked from her sobbing sister to her lifeless father before dropping to her knees and screaming in horror…
"Aagh!" paralyzed with fear I shot up from me slumber and looked around me quarters in terror. Seeing no one around me, I finally realized it'd all been a dream- a nightmare. But even with such knowledge at my side, it still felt near impossible to shake those scenes from me memory. 'Ten years later, and the haunting memories linger still.' Looking out the window at the full moon, I reach me arm out to the night sky, studying me hand to make sure it was only a dream. Beneath the glow of the moon, I studied the flesh still present on my bones and the light captured in me palm. It was merely a nightmare, a dark vision from the past…