Hello! This is my first published fanfiction, I'm a high schooler with glee, drama, and volunteer work to worry about so I don't know how often I will be able to update but please enjoy the first chapter of The Strangest of Things. Thanks for reading!
Another successful battle. The poor marines sent to scour the ocean that day had had absolutely no chance against the Hawkins pirates, the cards themselves had foretold. Basil Hawkins face sat in its usual state of disinterest as he carefully and methodically flipped card after card. A small sigh escaped him and he shuffled them all back into a neat deck and slid them into a pocket of his coat. The cards had spoken, something strange was happening, he just wished they would tell him what. Though he had a feeling whatever joke the universe was concocting, it would happen at least partially at his expense.
"Captain! Captain!" That must be it calling now. Hawkins stood and gestured for his first mate and navigator to continue, the fact that they looked slightly unnerved was not a great sign. Macabre, the first mate, a man with a face that could be called frightening and a few small dark braids falling from the top of his head, spoke first.
"Captain! We found something below deck, in the brig. We're not sure what it is but we think you should take a look at it... Whatever it is."
"Aye, it is a strange thing. It does not smell quite right... It was singing something' sir... and laughing' a bit." Thomas, a minkman, with the head of a black cat, he really was quite helpful in situations that involved practically unlighted areas.
"Take me to this thing,"
"Ah, yes right this way captain!"
The marine ship's brig was illuminated solely by the pale blue light that crept through the few portholes, and the flickering light of a lantern carried by Thomas. The metallic smell of blood and the very organic one of rotting things tainted the stale air below the deck. Hawkins was thankful that he could be quite sure none of the blood spilled on these floors and splattered on walls was not that of his crew members, but truth be told, some of it looked far too old to be that of the marines.
"It was towards the back captain, we didn't get too close to it."
"It could always have been a prisoner of this ship, one who has lost their mind and way." Macabre looked back and his frown deepened a fraction.
"You see that's the thing, Thomas said he couldn't feel or see any heat at all around it, right?"
"Aye, it smelled in all casualties, well... dead, captain."
"Well that is something..." Movement drew Hawkins eyes to the left, The glass of the lantern shattered explosively, and the flame blew out leaving nothing but shattered glass and a wisp of smoke in the little underwater light.
"AH! WHAT THE HELL!?" Macabre yelled in surprise dropping the still warm lantern to the ground. Thomas's pupil widened to accustom to the darkness and his whiskers twitched in alarm. Basil drew his sword with a click, his face still monotone with an almost bored expression stretching it.
"Reveal yourself." no sound, no movement, the inky black wells of shadow revealed no life to the three pirates. Silver glinted on the right, and the captains blade swung smoothly to it.
"That was not a request, reveal yourself if you value your life," The shadow shifted slightly and light was cast on a pale patchwork face.
"Who are you?" The blade in Hawkins hand did not sway, but neither did the erie silhouette it was currently pointed at. Precious moments stretched on in silence and neither figure swayed.
"Who. Are. You. Speak before I find it in my better interests to behead you." the space was filled with silence, and had it not been for that pale blue glow, that could have been all that was.
"You can't seriously think that sword will do you any good do you?" displeasure flickered in Hawkins eyes and he pushed the blade closer to the beings throat.
"You're not a marine, but you look like no pirate I've ever seen before, revolutionaries hardly ever call their superiors captain tho..." the voice was what dust would sound like, it was cracked in places but the emotion did not vary much from mocking. It was a voice secrets would whisper through.
"I doubt you'd be so talkative with your tongue sliced out,"
"Ah, but then you'd never learn who I am if I couldn't talk, would you? Besides I'd just sew it back in."
"Silence knave, answer or face a fate worse than death," His voice was slightly strained, his two crewmates crept backwards a few steps as a few straws wavered just above his coat.
"The proper word actually, would be vixen. Well, you're definitely pirates, but you must have just gotten bounties in the last four years, otherwise I would have a name to call you, other than rude and violent," Straws reached out quickly, covering Hawkins and wrapping as much as they could around the woman who dared to try the supernovas temper. The monstrous being that was Basil Hawkins reached out with iron nails to impale something, that as it turned out was not in fact there. The speed at which the so called vixen moved was incredible, moving from the end of a blade to directly in front of the notorious Rroma in a matter of milliseconds. An ornately carved silver and oak pistol pressed harshly into his chest, directly above where one's heart would rest. A red eye twitched and looks of surprise and alarm passed over the faces of the two behind him, their hands moving to the thin but deadly fencing swords resting on their hips.
"Do that and you won't live long enough to use them," the woman that now stood more clearly in the light looked more like five that had been torn apart and pieced back together like a patchwork quilt. The few patches of visible skin where covered in straight, neat stitching. She wore a long black dress, made of what seemed to be a velvety material, with a high collar and long sleeves that clung tightly to her arms. Short hair was just pulled back with a also black satin ribbon that hung neatly behind her. Another pistol, twin to the one held in her right hand hung on her left hip. She looked only to be in her late twenties, or maybe early thirties, it was hard to tell.
"The cards did not indicate the issue would be the cause of any death or harm to myself or my crew," Hawkins,back in his emotionless and more human form, stared down at her, taking her also still face for any flicker of life.
"Rroma huh? Right, fine. I ran out of bullets two years ago, happy? Doesn't mean I can't bash your skull in with the butt of a pistol,"
"That is true, but I doubt you want too,"
"Damn, correct again! That would be an unethical use of a gun, I wouldn't want to damage them." A slim finger twitched this time.
"Then lower your gun,"
"Only if you sheath the metal stick and don't try and pull that straw monster shit again. I am faster than you are and trust me, there are plenty of other things in here I wouldn't mind hitting you with." Hawkins sheathed his sword slowly, the pistol spun on thin, long fingers, before being slid neatly into a leather halter.
"Now, would kindly give me your name, and tell us why it is you are here?"
"I don't have a name, and wouldn't give it to you if I did, you can call me Stitches though if it's that important to ya,"
"...And? Why are you currently alive and healthy in the bottom of a marine warship?"
"Ha, I don't know. That was, what? Three, two and a half years ago now? Also I'm hardly what you'd call alive and healthy roma-man."
"You don't seem in anyway unfit to me... Stitches... Infact you seem to being fairing extraordinarily well for being left in the dark for the- THREE YEARS?!" Thomas and Macabre yelled.
"Yeah, so what? And I'm not healthy, not in a doctoral sense anyway! I'm not even alive, I'm a 63 year old medical pincushion, a zombie. I haven't been living for 34 years!"
"WHAT!?"