Oliver found himself running up the ship's quarters. His heart was racing quickly in his chest, his breath hitched in his throat. His eyes stung from the frozen air and his airway closed itself off. The one eye he had left started darting around. There had to be someone there. He couldn't be alone. Someone had to be there. . .Someone. . ."Eiro." He gasped audibly when he came to the celler where the gun powder and varies of other items were kept.
In the middle of the floor, bodies were strewn out. Some were piled on top of each other. One man was hanging by his intestines, his eyes hung from his skull as the contents of his inner body were dripping to the floor. One man had become impaled through the mouth out through his back with a Barbarian Scimitar Sword, his bones had been crushed to dust until his wrist were flexible enough to tie together. Blistered formed across the face of another man who had his face burnt to a crisp. His singed skin flaked off and coated the wooden floor with a black blanket laced with crimson syrupy liquid. They covered the form of the male next to him, the top of his head was collapsed in; his skull had been caved in and the brains leaked from the crevices of the split cranium.
Oliver clutched his head and closed his eyes tightly. Images flashed in his mind; it was him. He had a crazed, blood lust look in his eyes as he was taking the life of each and every one of his ship mates. "No. . .I didn't. . .I couldn't have. . ." His body quivered and shook with confusion and fear. The smell of the corpses hit his nostrils and filled his senses with rotting meat and drying blood. It hit his stomach like a thousand punches and he couldn't contain himself any more. He knelt down and emptied the acidic contents of his stomach.
Gasping, he attempted to regain his breath. The tears started to flow freely from his right eye, and thick red blood poured from the left. That was when he spotted a black bandana that was clutched by one of the corpses. The body was hidden under five other men and only his arm poked out of the pile. Oliver crawled over and grabbed the arm, pulling the body free. Once he caught the face of who it was, he stumbled back and covered his mouth with his blood stained hands. "Eiro. . ."
Flashes of brown eyes that held pain and betrayal etched into his mind, and it shocked him back nine years before all this happened. Before everything. . .
The small, blonde haired child sat against the post of the pirate ship's sail and sobbed in fright. His hair clung to the salty trails of tears on his face. He couldn't stop whimpering. He was scared and he wanted to go back home.
"Hey." He heard a voice above him speak out to him. It was a voice of a male a little more mature than him. He looked up into the face of a young brown eyed and black haired boy. A smile spread across his face as he knelt down in front of the terrified boy. "I know it can be a little overwhelming, but you'll get used to it don't worry." He placed a comforting hand on Oliver's shoulder. The blonde still didn't seem to feel any better, so the boy slipped a black bandana with a white skull from his forehead and held it out to the boy.
Oliver looked up at him curiously. "Eto. . ." The raven haired boy mumbled. "Here, you can keep this. I know it will bring you luck some day or something. Maybe it will make you feel better. My great grandfather gave it to me." With shaky hands, the blonde slowly reached out and grasped the slightly worn cloth from the stranger's hands. His eyes only became more confused. "Th. . .thanks. But. . ." His head lowered and his eyes shifted a bit. "Why are there pirates in this age of time anyway. . ." The older man tapped his finger against his cheek. "Well. . .Yeah, I know there aren't many around now. But there are quite a few groups of people who want to keep the tradition of pirates alive. These guys happen to be one of those groups. We like to keep just about everything the same. . .including the law breaking. So we're uh. Kind of wanted by the cops."
Hearing that explanation didn't make Oliver feel better, in fact it just made him even more upset. He hic-uped and started to tear up again. "Hey, hey. No don't do that." He embraced the younger boy tightly and pat his back. "Don't worry. Nothing will happen to you." Oliver wiped his soaking wet face as he pressed himself close to the comforting warmth of the stranger "You're pretty nice for being a pirate. . ." . The other retorted, "I'm not like most of these guys, I can be second in command without killing my emotions."
The blonde's eyes widened in surprise. "Commander? But you look so young!" The black haired male scoffed and folded his arms. "Oh please, I'm 14! I'm old enough. Haha. What's your name, kid? Mine is Eiro." Oliver tilted his head slightly. "I'm Oliver. . .You have a funny name."
"I'm from Japan. The reason I joined this crew is because. . Well, my great grandfather told me about the Wokou, or Japanese pirates. He told me our ancestors were part of that organization. When my great grandfather died, I wanted to keep the tradition alive. I couldn't find any groups to join, so I came to Scotland where I met Yveson and he gave me the opportunity to see what I could do."
Eiro smiled a bit and picked up Oliver, putting him on his back. The blonde yelped and wrapped his arms around his neck in instinct. "Haha. Don't worry little one, I won't let anything happen to you. Just as long as you protect my precious bandana, deal?" Oliver grinned and nodded. "Deal."
As the memory started to become hazy, Oliver reached down and grasped the bandana his friend held. He was his only friend,the only one who was kind to him. And he killed him. He tied the cloth around his left arm that sported the torn sleeve and a large gash from those police men. It would surely scar over time.
"What do I do. . ." He whispered to himself. It was silent. Nothing but the sounds of the breeze hushing him into deep thought. A voice in his head told him to kill. He shook it away.
"No I have to run."
You have to kill.
Run.
Kill.
Run.
Kill.
"No. I have to run! I have to get out of here!" He screamed at himself and gripped his hair. "Get it out. Get these thoughts out of my head. I don't want this." He staggered to his feet, stumbling slightly as he made his way up the ship's deck once more. He has never sailed the ship, but he was damn going to try to now.
He decided at that moment that he needed to get away, any where he could to escape this madness.