This chapter takes place during the time period where Gecko Moria was located in the Florian Triangle with his ship, Thriller Bark. Also in the middle of that time period when Brooke invaded his ship. Taking place in the mind of an intelligent negative, I think this chapter explores a world that normally isn't elaborated on.

Positive: A Person, the person in control of their shadow, their shadow's fate, their shadow's movement, and typically their shadow's personality.

Negative: A shadow, the being only in existance behind solid objects and is a deflection of light, controlled by the domineering person.

Chapter 3: Positive

Prologue

My being has decayed. I am translucent, phototropic, unseen, but you can still see me. I am not blind. I'm trapped in the dark. It's jet black, voracious, rapacious, concealing. My surreptitious moves glide beneath my positive side. I'm disenchanted with his moves, so solid and firm. I wiggle and wave depending on the time of day. I am a negative, his shadow.

Oh, this vile man, Hickory Jones! I'm susceptible to his disease and his cures, yet I am unfeeling to his views. He and I cause causalities, and it burns to watch and do. While he kills their positive, I eliminate their negative too. He ravages in decadent rum and alleviates his troubles with whores. He relapses, and I follow.

His captain finds no pity on his disgusting, vile soul and beats him using his fists that change into bricks. I thought only negatives could morf. I'm glad Hickory can't. My positive hurts and elapses into his mind while I suffer with the pain that he sleeps off every time. If his captain loathes his bones soo much, why does he possess the will to keep him?

I digress, today's an infrequent day. The ship groans and rattles as the seas and oceans play. My positives indecisive as they pass through dismal skies. The fog is ever somber as it besieges the skiff. Unearthing foreign soils within this abberant fog, the crew submits a ballot to determine if they should anchor. This estranged isle is ominous, deranged. The voices are cast, and it's clinched to anchor down the ship. I enjoined him not to go, but I am mute and without will. A drunkard's a fool, you know?

They call with no rejoinder, and split, divest, divide. It is only a little while before our time arrives.

The sounds of altercation resound throughout the walls. Screeching, clawing, cries echo into the sky as the night reigns high. The dark dissembles their fates and my positive flees. He's frightened, I'm pleased.

His footsteps echo into this macabre castle's walls. The embers on the wall-lamps twist, giggling at his disgruntled demeanor. My form twists and spirals with every passing light. I chortle at him. He's receiving what he deserves. Subconsciously, I hope it doesn't hurt.

At one point his mind goes dark and he faints. Our being is consumed by others, a striking pain breeches me. By that time the next day, my eyelids open and I am free.

Chapter 13: 3 Weeks Post-Awakening

"Raise."

I lift my upper limbs willingly. He inspects my stitches, testing if their tight. He runs his fingertips across my bunumbed skin and punctures the foreign skin.

"Fosfosfosfos! Your such a delicious specimen Concros! With these blood tests I'll finally be able to see what makes you so different from that original body of yours. How is it that you were able to have such a distinct personality from your original body? So interesting, so interesting..." Dr. Hogback murmurs to himself as he injects my crimson liquid into a vile for future inquisitions.

Realization strikes him tardily, and his temper flares, "What are you doing? Leave me!"

He wallops me upside the head. Blood trickles down my muzzle and I scurry away. I can not talk back. I am in his dynasty.

Hogback's mind is beclouded and his tusks are bared. His mind is hassled and that makes him impetuous. My venerate advised me to elude Hogback because he likes my potency. My venerate is revered more than Hogback so I must accede.

My venerate is my beloved, is my cherished, precious, endeared. I am content with his tyranny and content with his smile. He is deranged, estranged, and clever. His aberrancy fulfills my empty void. I, too, am treasured by him as well. I am stronger, more acute than other gaurds and grunts. I am still inferior to generals like Absalom and Perona but I am well-liked. I am pleasing.

"One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight!..."

Milady Cindry greets me warmly; With several plates that shatter into my head, that is. The glass goes unnoticed and I continue to stride. Agony is not felt with this new body, although I do absorb a slight sting. It's a strange new feeling moving these limbs. It feels foreign but I can not educe it from my memories. I can not educe anything from my memories from before. They have vanished and eloped from me.

I exit the castle door and gallop to the woods. It's always dusk and always cold here, frozen like my skin. The sky is ever cloudy and the air is eternally fogged. My heart is kin to the bone-chilling air so it does not feel out of place among my feeble flesh. Why do I have scars? I do not reminisce.

I prance on past the graveyard that is concealed by a forest. Comrades are resting here. It is best not to awaken them. They get thrills from picking off my skin.

Time is swallowed by the shadows and my feet ache and rot. The southern border's tall. Its rocks are frighteningly jagged. If it wasn't for my beloved I would want to pierce my throat on its towering form. I love him so much.

It is my turn for look-out so I climb the walls to glace at the inner sea. The climb is long but I endure. There's a platform with a bell hanging on a pole for signaling. Taking my post, I being performing my duty and sharply study the waves. First starboard, then to port, and then I repeat three times. Disturbingly, fog has formed on port side by the opening gates. There should not be fog here, this is a ship. From the outer exterior walls, to the inner sea, over the border, and through the castle; This is my beloved's ship. It should not fog on the inner sea.

In delayed revelation I'm surprised to find that the look-out bell has been slashed. The rope is unspiraled at the ends and it is presumed the silver bell that once hung tightly to its post dropped into the sea. Glancing back at the waters I spot a dimly lit light. It grows closer as it scales up the wall with an unfamiliar black form.

I blink and all is lost.

The form pounces with fierce grip and I tumble down the jagged rocks. My flesh is torn and broken but air still fills my lungs. The form descends and a skeleton in full attire appears! A proper gentleman, I could tell. He apologizes and slips a salty powder into my throat.

My love, why can I not see anymore? Where has the body you'd saved gone? Where have you gone?

-Chapter 14: Where am I?-

My form curls and twirls behind a jolly positive. I can not feel what I touch and I can not cry. Hickory Jones is whole again, while I am trapped all alone. Concros is no more. Concros was never there.

My love, I can not touch you.

"Hickory! Remember, set sail between their shifts and make sure to remember us when you leave here! As the only non-crewmember survivor of this place, make sure you get out alive!" A hideous woman, Lola, pats Hickory on the back. My eyes are pained at seeing her, but I no longer control them. My positive controls them. My jailor controls them!

"Sure thing guys!" he slurrs, even though he's not particularily drunk. I'm still relatively surprised he's sober. I'm sure there's a reason for that, though. He probably voraciously devoured all their rum.

The moon, again, is high in the sky and looms with a fierce gaze. Or is that the sun? Yes, the sun seeps through the fog and illuminates the area. Now possesing me, something his comrades lacked -a shadow, Hickory can freely escape from Thriller Bark. I am disgusted with antics; Only he would leave comrades behind.

I am a witness to his thoughts, and none are full of glee or promise. There is not even a slim trickle of pride or shame in his veins. There is no way he's going to come back for his newly acquired and recently abandoned friends.

My beloved, I can not go back to you.

His rickity life boat floats and wobbles, sheltering his hideous frame and rescuing him from fate. I want to cry out. I want to scream. I want to be able to carry out my own dreams.

I want to be free.

The sunlight gleems onto his skin and pierces his eyes, starting a riot. His voice croaks and he cackles. Barking with laughter he let out the cruel truth. He was laughing at them. He was going to live and they weren't. They had probably been here for years and he only spent a few months of his life in all consuming dark.

He had lived in glory beneath a shining beacon that I was merely a reflection of. His abandoned comrades had endured in the dusk for years and years to come yet he only experiences moments in what would be their lifetimes. He had lived where we could not, where I could not.

I despise this belligerent man.

My precious person, thank you.

Even I can not understand what happened next. I can not remember. All I remember is the warmth of the sunlight against our skin. I can remember my passionate rage welding up inside me. I desired to pierce his throat and overpower his feeble mind. I wanted to take over.

Yet again, everything goes dark and conciousness is lost. It's a strange feeling. Before this abnormal turn of events over the past few months I had not slept or fainted before.

Epilogue: Three Years Later

The Grand Line is a mysterious body of water. Life slips away so easily here, and yet forms in the blink of an eye. If I sought precise enlightenment for the abnormal scenario that befell me I would probably spend the rest of my life trying to find out how and why. Yes, my life. I'm positive I would never waste my life on such a trivial matter because, as I've said, it's my life now.

It is my life now because Hickory Jones is no more and, technically, never was. Some how, several hundred miles from the coast in the clear blue ocean our fates were swapped around. Somehow, my being and his elapsed, intwined and seperated, but this time our roles were reversed. Amongst all the confusion, my mind overpowered his pitiful intellect and I won. I controlled this body now.

Although, at the time of the interchange I was baffled and confounded. I sought for an answer for a few months and met a generous man by the name of Vegapunk. He enlightened me that if anything had occured it was that my beloved Moria's powers had weakened the bond between me and Jones. My mind was generously superior to Jones', which was why I able to retain a free spirit even though I was a negative. When I came into control of our body it was likely that Jones' mind instantly conformed to mine. Retaining this information, I left to prosper in a life of my own.

Chances are slim, but I still hold stong emotions for my beloved and I seek to meet him again one day. Just one more time. So perhaps then I will be able to confess my endearment to him. Yes, I would enjoy that very much.

The End.

Excerpted from Tales in the Dark by Concros J. Vermillion.

"If I encountered him once more then perhaps I could finally rest in peace."

Vermillion J. Concros, Year 902-940, R.I.P

Died before he could meet his beloved again.

I think I'm quite pleased with how this chapter turned out. Incase it is unclear, this is 'taken' from a book written by Concros on his experiences in Thriller Bark and how he came to be. He was in fact in love with Moria, despite how... undelightful he is. In all consideration, Moria rescued Conros from a fate he simply wasn't destined with or pleased with. Saddly, He died before he could meet up with Moria again, seeing as he died at least a year before Moria would leave the Florian Triangle. The years at the end are kind of pull-crap, because I have no idea what time period One Piece takes place it.

Words: 2,375