Hello, all!
Allow us to introduce ourselves! We are Alel and Robin Goodlass!
Well, re-introduce, anyway, since we've both been here a while...
And this is our collaboration! It has been in development for quite a while now... and we hope you all like it!
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It was a disgusting trade: money for a human life. It was commonplace however and he was forced to be the Charon of the Atlantic, carrying the "product" to the colonies then returning for more. It was repetitive and tedious work but it was that trust-worthy work that helped him climb to the top of the ranks of the East India Trading Company. He wrinkled his nose in revulsion at the thought of it, selling a person for a few pieces of metal. Business was business though and he was simply a messenger.
That particular day found him, the captain of the Wicked Wench, in the bustling port of Zanzibar. He had since sold off his provisions of sugar, rum, cotton, firearms and other products and found himself intrigued by a slave auction proceeding not far from the docks. While his beloved ship was being loaded with "black gold" to return to the British ports in the Caribbean, he found himself drawn to the auction block, pulled by an invisible rope.
Morbid curiosity, perhaps? He was an abolitionist, of sorts, and refused to engage in the purchase of slaves. But watching the proceedings couldn't hurt, could it?
The captain lingered near the back of the crowd, occasionally scanning the mob for members of his crew and for potential crewmen as well.
No luck for either, unfortunately.
He turned his attention toward the auctioneer.
"Here we have a young woman, not yet twenty years of age. Very strong. Came from the Matamba tribe."
He watched as she was brought before the crowd. She was very small, though not frail by any stretch of the imagination. Her arms were visibly muscular and tribal tattoos wound around them like vines. Her hair was cropped short, almost melding in with her dark, intimidating complexion, giving her a savage-like appearance. She wore a wild-eyed expression of fear, but equally matching it was a look of fierce resolve. Onlookers laughed at the visible struggle she put up but the jest soon came to and end when the tail of a whip cracked against the young girl's back and subdued her into compliance.
"Certainly spirited, this one is, eh? We'll start the bidding..."
The captain found himself shouting his own bids over the roar of the crowd, each rising number becoming louder and louder.
He wondered what had overcome him. He made it a point to inform crewmen that he was against the slave trade and that he was only doing his job (however barbaric it was) and here he was bidding on a young innocent girl no less?
Still, he pressed on, the bids growing higher and higher.
At this rate, all the money I made earlier will be gone...
He caught the girl staring at him menacingly, catching him in a pause. She seemed to know it'd be him that would become her new master. The loathing gaze coming from her dark eyes almost made him shudder.
Too soon, however, there was a crash of the gavel and the auctioneer pointed judiciously at him.
"Sold, to the man in the back. What's your name, good sir?"
"Captain Jack Sparrow."
"Captain Sparrow? Of the Wench?"
"The very same."
"Ah, good man… take her to his fine vessel."
Jack watched as the man holding the girl carried her away effortlessly, despite her kicking and flailing about. The auctioneer came down and collected his earnings, leaving the captain nearly penniless.
He wondered what the Hell he had done, getting himself into such a mess.
He walked back to the ship in a daze, subconsciously yelling for his men. He wondered what they would think of her. He wondered what they would do to her.
He wondered what he was going to do with her.
For the first time, he dreaded going back on his ship.
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Aaand... finished! Please tell us what you think!