"It was about two years ago, mates. An old sea-witch had cast a spell; a spell to wake the dead. Aye, ye may not believe me tale, but it's true. I saw it with me own eyes, I did. This old sea-witch was well known for being accused a' causin' trouble in an old port. Mates, there is a reason we dump dead bodies overboard in these seas. These are cursed seas, cursed, so that in one passing of the sun, not a day, but the next sunset after the death, the corpse is ressurected. Me first encounter? It was the night of the spell. The graveyard opened up, and the comrades and friends of everyone in that port were, let's jus' say, welcomed backafter a long sleep. Keep a sharp eye out for these creatures, these zombies, this is no mere tale, it is a story that may one day save your life." Captain Evan Manson always had a knack for story telling. his was one of his off nights. He had decided to tell this story to his crew after he had a dream about the day it happened to him, oh so long ago. In truth, this had all happened the sea-witch cast a spell so powerful, it affected all of the islands in the Carribean. What he left out, was that the waters were infected as well.
"Cap'n!" One of his men called, "there's a man to the port side in a raft, what should we do?"
"The man's in a raft for God's sake!" He yelled. "Bring him on board, we'll drop him off at the next port." He was a generous captain. He wore a black and red bandanna with a skull on it. The bandanna tied back his thick brown hair. it was in its usual pony-tail, which revealed its length to be a small amount past his shoulders. He could hear his men shouting as they struggled to bring the man on board. He walked over to the port side of the boat where his crew worked to bring the man aboard. Captain Manson's blood red coat's tail flew in the breeze. The man finally reached the deck, and the captain nodded towards the Hold. Another man in the crew nodded and knew he was to take the man to the mess room. But the man ran, and jumped into the Hold. The captain assumed it was to eat directly from the barrels of food.
Evan Manson shook his head as he jumped into the hold after the strange man. "I wouldn' eat that. Las' person to east from those barrells died a' scurvy two days ago, mate." In a way, what he said was true. The last person to die of scurvy on his ship died two weeks ago; the barrells were, though, used to feed those with scurvy. "I'm the captain of the Raven's Wing. We're going to drop you off at tha' next port, mate. Unless, you have somewhere else you are headed along our way." The captain kneeled down, carful not to let his black pants touch the dusty floor of the hold.
"Cap'n! Zombies to the Starboard side!" the man in the Crow's Nest (more often referred to as the Raven's Nest aboard the Wing) called. "Theres a woman as well."
"The Witch has an army!" He yelled, and climbed up the small steps out of the hold. He looked out at the sea, and saw legions of Zombies in small boats, similar to the man's they just picked up, but the man was not one of them. The captain then realized the other man was hiding. "This could get bad."