20 miles off the coast in a small schooner, Peter Trepid sailed solo. Peter Trepid, known
to all who'd met him as the Dread Pirate Roberts! He eyed the coast skillfully, figured the
distance and the wind speed together along with the current pace of the boat, and decided it
would be just under two hours before he could anchor and go ashore. If he'd navigated correctly,
he should be just beyond the outer limits of the kingdom of Prince Humperdink. A fine place to
make his debut, he thought as he nudged the tiller to the left, and the Dread Pirate Robert's
return to infamy!

In a few short hours, Peter was anchored, and rowing his dinghy to shore. Now that it was
becoming a reality, his career as the Dread Pirate Roberts seemed a bit intimidating, especially
on land. He was an excellent sailor, but not as sharp as the second Roberts. It would be hard to
be as restrained and quietly intimidating. Peter's eyes scanned the horizon line out over the sea,
then followed it back to the shore. Was that a light in that cave by the point? Victims! Peter
thought gleefully. Just as soon as he had some dinner. . . Damn it all! He'd left all his food in the
boat! All his scrawny little brain could remember to bring was himself and his sword. Disgusted,
he stomped the hull of the dinghy. But then he realized: where there were people, their would be
food. Perfect.

Peter Trepid rowed the last few yards to shore, dragged his boat up on to the beach, and
walked down towards the point until he reached the cave. He stopped just outside and listened.
He could hear voices, and some rustling of clothes and papers. It sounded as though there were
just two people, and judging by the voices, an old man and an old woman. Silently, he
unfastened his sheath with his sword inside and slipped it down his pant leg, covering the bulge
made by the hilt near his waist with his loose tunic. He walked to the entrance to the cave and
peered in.

Inside the cave was a single, small living area with a very large, flat pile of sand covered
in a blanket in the corner. Peter supposed this was a bed. Next to it were two stumps, pulled up
to a tiny wooden table with two good legs, plus one broken one. The third was completely
missing and that corner was propped up by a niche in the cave wall. Sitting at the table was a
very ugly, very old woman, who was busily rummaging through a huge burlap sack. Sitting on
the floor was an equally ugly, equally old man, who was busily rummaging through some papers.
"I don't understand it," he kept muttering to himself, over and over again. Finally the woman
interrupted.
"For the love of Pete old man! WHAT don't you understand!?!?
"How I keep writing thee masterpieces, these books that will surely become classics, and no one
will buy them! I could've, and should've put a stop to all our bumming around a long time a go,
but no, no one seems to be at all interested in my skill.
"That's because you have no skill," the woman retorted. "And besides, we're not 'bumming
around,' we're living off the land, and doing a fine job at it!"

By this time Peter had been standing at the door unnoticed for a long time. He cleared his
throat loudly. The old, ugly people looked up simultaneously.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" exclaimed the old woman, hospitable at once. "I didn't see you there. Come in,
come in."
"I don't mean to intrude, of course, but it's just that I've sailed a long way, and all my food is
gone," Peter said with a expression and tone of innocence, stepping into the dwelling and giving
a slight smile. "Do you have a bit to spare?"
"Of course. Sit down, make yourself at home."
"Thank you, ma'am, but I'm comfortable as I am," he replied, trying to cover up the stumble in
his tone as he realized the immobility the sword's hiding place gave him. "And, please, don't
trouble yourself," he added as he watched the woman take out all sorts of fruit and vegetables
and breads from her sack, and a steaming plate of crab from off a small table off to the side he
hadn't noticed,
"Nonsense, I've just steamed some crab, and I have plenty of fruits and veggies, breads and-Oh!
I've just remembered the blackberries I picked." She hurried out of the cave. Peter followed her,
and watched her scramble up onto the grassy knoll that was the ceiling of the cave. She picked
up a basket filled with berries and scrambled back down and into the cave. Peter walked back in
after her.
"Really, a thousand thanks for your hospitality, but you needn't go so far. All I ask is a light
dinner, and then I'll be on my way. I don't need anything for the road, nor a place to stat the
night. I'm headed, uh, over to my uncle's for the night. He's not too far."
"Are you a writer?" Peter looked down at the old man in surprise. He had sort of forgotten about
him.
"Why do you ask, sir?"
"Well, your clothes are all a-shambles. Us writers have a hard time of it, we do." Peter looked
down at his clothes, which were a bit worn from the journey.
"Orford!" the woman exclaimed, shocked.
"Don't mind," Peter assured her. "It's the truth, they are a bit worn," he turned to the man. "Not
because I'm a writer though, because I'm not. Actually, they are worn because of my long
journey
on the sea."
"Oh." the man. He looked a bit disappointed at the fact that Peter wasn't a writer.

The man, Orford, returned to his shuffling of papers and jotting down of notes, and the
woman fell silent as she continued to prepare some food. Peter's thoughts fell to pirating for the
first time since he'd arrived at the dwelling of this odd, ugly little couple. Now that he thought
about it, he couldn't wait to kill them, the first slaying of his return to the pirating kingship. How
sweet it would be. . . No one but himself knew that there even was a third. They all had believed
that when the second died, (Well, they didn't know he was the second, they all thought there had
been only one, but that was beside the point) that that was the end of it all. No one knew that as
the second Dread Pirate Roberts lay on his deathbed, he had appointed the next, none other than
Peter Trepid, his much trusted first mate! Of course, Peter remembered, the first thing he'd done
was kill off his crew. He'd never been one for followers or sidekicks; he preferred to work alone,
mostly because it deducted from his own glory if he had helpers. So, he had sailed solo,
marauding about foreign coastline, but all those who saw him died, so as it was he remained at
large, then eventually, forgotten. But all that would change, yes, in a few short minutes, it would
begin, and try as they might, once his terrific legacy was reawakened, not one person would be
able to forget the name of the Dread Pirate Roberts!

"Gloria!" Orford called impatiently. Is the food going to be ready before the next ice
age?! Because the way things are going, the odds are getting worse and worse."
"Give it a rest, will you! I realize you're hungry for dinner, but I don't see you going to the
trouble to prepare it! In fact, if you must know it will only be a half-minute. Why don't you
come sit down, and you as well- oh, I'm sorry, I'm afraid I didn't catch your name?" she
inquired of Peter.
"Oh, my name's Eric, uh, Eric Peters."
"Well then, come sit down for supper. You men can sit at the table there, I don't mind sitting in
the floor beside you." Peter tried to argue, but Gloria insisted. He walked to the table, just beside
his stump, and removed his hat. He opened his jacket and stowed the hat in an inner pocket.
Smoothly, when neither pair of eyes were focused in his direction, he reached lower and
removed the sword from his right pant leg, leaving behind the sheath. Gloria walked over,
carrying the plate of crab.
"Alright, crab's on the table, bread's on it's-" Gloria never got to finish her sentence, thanks to
the blade that plunged into her stomach. She let out a shriek of anguish, but it was cut short, just
like her sentence had been, by the blade. This time it's landing spot was straight into her heart.
She fell to the floor and crumpled in a heap. Peter glanced at the man. His eyes were screaming,
and his teeth were chattering so loud you could hear them plainly from behind his tightly pressed
together lips. Peter retrieved his sheath from his pant leg, wiped his sword clean of blood, and
slipped it into the sheath. Turning to the man, he said:
"The Dread Pirate Roberts takes no prisoners. So I am going to leave you here alive. I have two
reasons for this. One is so you can spread the word that the Dread Pirate Roberts is back. The
other is so you can relive that moment when you saw your wife die over and over again until it is
your turn to leave this world. And given the agony you are sure to live in, you should hope that
time comes soon. Have a nice night, and thank you for the food I will be taking with me on my
journey." Without the tiniest struggle or even a single word from the man, Peter pocketed some
bread and fruit, stuffed a bite of crab into his mouth, and left the cave.

He stopped outside and leaned against the wall of dirt which the cave bore into. He shut
his eyes tighter than he ever had before, and took a deep breath. Then without another thought,
leaped nimbly to the top of the rise, placing his left foot on a foot hold halfway up, then stepping
the rest of the way to land with his right. He pivoted to face the place in the sky where the sun
had just set, not two minutes before, and began to walk.

Victim count: 1

Hi evry1!
As you may have guessed by now, this is turning out to be kinda full of people dying. All
contributing to the effect of the story, so I'm not gonna let up I don't think. . . wait and see.

Thanx to Gothica Anne Riddle for this idea: whoever can figure out who (or what group, I'll
take either) wrote these lyrics gets to appear in the next chapter! Happy guessing (you'll never
get it.) Mwahahahahahahaha!

From the dark side we can see a glow of something bright
There's much more than we see here
Don't burn the day away

alright, I think I'll be a bit less cruel, her's another set of lyrics, easier to guess (same band):

I never did a single thing that did a single thing to
Change the ugly ways of the world
I didn't know it felt so right inside
I didn't know it at all
Open up the curtains I heard sirens there the lights flash and crawl
I did it justice I just did it for the buzz