The Enemy's Base

Enma's eyes struggled open. He rolled his head to the side and immediately regretted it as he felt a surge of pain shoot up his neck. He could barely see, his vision was still blurry. He opened and closed his hands, they were tied together and the annoying scratchy sensation of rope dug into him. He was still unsure of what happened. He just woke up here. It was beginning to become way too common, waking up in an unfamiliar setting. A sharp light flashed and Enma cringed, turning his eyes away from it. He looked down at the ground, he saw the firm soil beneath his feet. That made him feel fairly well, he wasn't hanging up fifty miles above the sea nor was he stranded in a blazing inferno, he quietly gave his thanks to Lucifer for his…luck.

He struggled turning his attention upwards to the source of the blinding light. It was a small fire. He could still hear the pitter-patter of rain, so he was at least inside some place. Though, that meant very little to him. Inside in a strange place was not much better from outside in a strange place. He moved his fuzzy vision across the room. He found nothing that made him any happier. Just Maria and Sage tied up with him. He strained against the ropes a little bit harder. There was no coming loose. To make matters worse…he felt weak. Not just physically weak like he had lost night or two of sleep, more like he was being drained of all energy. It was the familiar feeling of sea stone pressing up against him. Whoever was doing this was doing it cautiously.

"Hey," whispered Enma trying to wake Maria. He was not physically strong enough to break free, but maybe Maria would be. "Hey….Hey…HEY!" Enma continued to nag, trying to snap Maria out of her funk. The last one seemed to cause her to stir. She shook her head and almost immediately went to stretch only to find her arms were bound. She struggled for a few seconds as she looked around with a form of panic on her face, Enma knew he probably looked the same when he woke up.

"Where…where am I?" she asked as she tried buck with her legs. She quickly found out that they were tied up as well. Their situations were the same, hers and Enma, as well as Sage's. They were each attached to a long metal pole jutting out of the ground with their legs tied to the base and their hands tied behind it. This was exactly as Enma had put it with the sea stone…a cautious approach. Of course, the term 'cautious' could also be replaced with the word 'wise'.

Suddenly a large mass of people poured into the small chambers. There footfalls completely blocking out the noise of the thunderstorm. They stopped and separated, splitting up into two groups, wrapping around the room, but leaving a straight path through them to Enma and the others. Enma recognized the people as the same ones that were attacking Maria. They had ragged, dirty, skin, an almost dead composure. They didn't move once they got into place. Enma looked over them, not even a flinch out of them. It was as if…they were robots, no nervous twitches or anything of the like.

Suddenly Enma froze. The air just got a deep, dark charge through it. It wasn't normal this feeling in the air. He swallowed hard as his eyes remained fixated at the entrance. Suddenly he saw exactly who was behind this all. The monster who had captured them and left them here, tied up. The man himself didn't appear threatening. Enma would say that he had run into people with more threatening appearances than him. However, appearances can be deceiving, the eyes weren't.

This man's golden eyes appeared inhuman. They read of malice and dark-intent. When he spoke that dark-intent translated very clearly. It was gravely, sickly voice. One that would make lesser men soil themselves in fear. "Good evening," he muttered, he snapped his fingers and almost immediately one of his henchmen dropped to the ground on all fours. The golden-eyed man sat down using the minion as a seat. "My name is 'The Mummy' Abel."

He tapped his foot and looked at Enma, Sage, and Maria. All of them were propped up by the wooden stakes in the ground. Chains made of seastone were shackled to their hands and feet, making sure they couldn't move an inch unless they were unlocked. "I am a master. I had a crew of mine at one time, just so you know. A good crew with a loyal beast at my heels."

"However, admittedly things don't stay good forever," said Abel as he snapped his fingers again. The zombies quickly shuffled around. "My beast left me, attacked both me and my crew in a fit of rage. So, I decided I'll take him down. First thing I'll ever do. He landed on this island and then I did." Abel smiled as he leaned back behind him and looked at the roof of the small hut.

"Great…" said Enma as he looked around, "what does this have to do with us?" He didn't mind the background story of the person who kidnapped them and tied them up, but it seemed a bit unnecessary. Especially when he was surrounded by zombies of him. He could tell them whatever he wanted and it wouldn't much matter to them.

"I know, but I do feel a sort of responsibility for you…" he paused and got distracted. His eyes traced the room, jumping from one zombie to the next. "I feel responsible for all of my creations. Even those simpletons that surround me. I want you to know what kind of man I am. I am unforgiving. I am heartless, however, I am your master from this point forth. If you ever disappoint me, there will be dear consequences for you and everyone around you. Don't make me act on my primal urges." His hand slowly came forward, collapsing on Enma's forehead. There was a pulse of light purple that surged from Enma's body and into Abel's hands.

(-With Mikoto-)

Mikoto and the old man were back to sitting on the ground, both of them had visible new welts on their faces. They looked like they were in bad shape, but they kept their mouths shut. Neither one of them seemed too happy about the outcome. "I'm going to help my crew," muttered Mikoto acting like a child with no respect for his elders. "I'm not leaving this island without them."

"Fine!" shouted the old man. Throughout all of their fight this was the only thing that kid would say. He was growing tired of hearing him say it. "I won't help you, though!" The old man turned away and went back to taking care of his own things. "I got more important things to do then handle the mistakes of some idiotic kid!" Mikoto frowned as he leaned back. He was hungry again.

Suddenly the door swung open and a dashing young beauty waltzed in. Her skin had a thin tan to it, giving her a darker than most appearance. Her light blue eyes were the only thing visible beneath her purple hood that extended down to a cloak. There was a light golden trim that ran along the edges. For a brief moment when she took a step forward, her cloak fluttered revealing a white shirt beneath it and what appear to be the beginning of some skirt, but before Mikoto could make it out. Her cloak fluttered close, blocking the sight of her pristine clothing. She froze for a moment as she took in both Mikoto and the old man. "It appears we have another visitor," she said. Mikoto was a bit taken back by her voice…it seemed almost bitter like she had already developed a strong distaste for the young pirate.

"Hey, are you a part of my crew?" asked Mikoto wandering up to her. He stopped short as the young woman took a step back and away from him. Mikoto paused as he looked at her, he found it hard to believe that somebody on his crew would have such a strong disdain for him…but how could someone he didn't know have such a strong disdain for him.

"That's Viola," muttered the old man. "She's not part of your crew. She's someone who came to this island before either one of the beasts." Mikoto raised his eyebrows. Why did she dislike him then? He shrugged it off. "She came here to study some of the ancient monuments; of course, this was before the beasts razed the ground. What do you mean by 'another visitors'?" Mikoto sipped some water, he did remember her saying that.

"I saw a group of people…two of them being taken by Abel's minions," she said looking away, "and then directed another young man after them. Fate has apparently decided today to be a day to turn this island into a popular tourist spot," She said as she went and fixed herself a glass of water.

"Those are my crewmates!" shouted Mikoto jumping up and onto his feet. "Point me in the direction of this Abel fellow so I can get my crew."

The old man sighed, lowering his head. "They are already lost. If 'Mummy' Abel got his hands on them, they are already lost," his voice trailed off as he looked down to the ground. "Like I said just let me take you off of this island tomorrow when the rain clears up, forget about-" Viola quickly interjected his thought pattern.

"He's due north by northeast," she said with a calm voice. "You can't miss his house…it's the only one still standing aside from this one." Mikoto nodded, grabbing his shoes and racing off out of the room. The old man glared over to Viola.

"What do you think you are doing!?" he shouted as he shot up onto his feet. He raised his feet and stormed over to the door. Viola didn't budge an inch as she stood still. The old man froze in the doorway; he paused for a second as he looked back at her. Expecting a child to clean up her own mess and waiting for her to jump at the chance to do so.

"Fate brought him here, fate made Abel capture his friends, fate will decide whether or not he survives," she waited another second as she watched the old man hang by the door like a ghost for another few seconds. She raised an eyebrow, wondering what he was thinking while he watched her.

"If there's one thing both me and you have learned while being on this island is that fate is a cruel mistress," he said in a stone cold voice, almost with a stern scolding. "Sometimes you will see an apple fall from a tree. However, it doesn't fall from the tree because of 'fate'. It falls because of a strong wind blows and that's what this is! It's an apple going up against a strong wind, better known as Abel! It's not fate! Its recklessness!"

"I won't deny that fate is a cruel mistress," stated Viola, standing up for her belief. "You're right…I know that better than anyone, but you seem to be forgetting one thing. Sometimes the apple won't fall." The old man stood in the door for a few second, pondering this statement. She was right about that, but that was only if this was a normal wind.

"You come from a kingdom where everything is rooted in fate," brought up the old man. "However, sometimes I wonder if you understand what that means. Fate exists because we make it exist. In that instant when he asked you, you could've said no. You could've said it was too dangerous for him to put his neck on the line. But instead…instead you allowed him to go on, you told him the truth. You twisted his fate into something much more dangerous!" The old man huffed as he glared at her. She smiled and shook her head. "This is only his fate because you made it! So if he dies, don't blame fate! Blame yourself!" The old man grabbed his coat and charged out of the house.

The young woman stood there and shook her head. It was him who didn't understand. Once more fate was working its way even out here. It directed the ship, directed the kid to her. Everything happened in this order, not because of luck, not because of chance, but because of fate.

(-with Zesiro-)

Zesiro stood there, his breath rising and falling as he looked out over the hills. At his feet laid six or seven disgruntled men, completely destroyed due to Zesiro's own strength. He had been following two of them, the problem was he didn't see the other four or five sneak up behind him and attack. Luckily there were so few of them, it took a lot of Zesiro's strength to bring them down. In terms of physical strength, Zesiro easily overpowered all of them together, but they just wouldn't stay down. Zesiro wasn't happy with what he did to keep them down, but he'd live with himself.

Asides from that they did what Zesiro wanted them to do, he was close enough to see what they were heading to. Two small shacks in the distant. If this was a normal island Zesiro would walk up to it and check on it, but with the way things were going he believed it would be best just to wait out here. He sat down and waited. The rain was still coming down in massive amounts, but it had lessened somewhat. He expected it to be gone in another hour or so. He leaned back and looked at the house. What was in there?

The group of men that attacked him were heading there so that alone told Zesiro it wasn't exactly a 'visitors welcome' place, but even without that Zesiro feared that he had all the evidence he needed just sitting here. He didn't want to admit it, but it was giving off a far worse aura than he ever experienced. Trevor's aura was the closest thing he could think about. They both had that feeling of hideous malice, but this one was far worse.

Trevor was a killer. That much was obvious to anyone who took a glance at him and that made everybody scared of him. It is hard to imagine a faith worse than death. Looking at this aura it wasn't the aura of a killer. At least not in the way it had been with Trevor. Sure whoever was in that tent was responsible for killing someone, but that didn't mean it was his most prevalent talent. No, this man would step on, squeeze out of, or torture anyone to get what he wanted. Zesiro decided that waiting here would be his best bet at finding someone else from his crew. This was the only landmark Zesiro has seen for awhile now, aside from the small mountain range, someone else was bound to stumble upon it.

Suddenly a heavy hand clasped onto Zesiro's shoulder. It only took Zesiro an instant to draw his blades and launch an attack at the man who dared to touch him. He swerved around, bringing his blade out and aimed for the neck.

It slammed into a heavy, yet solid force. It forced the man back, but no blood was shed. "Look before you leap," said the voice and Zesiro immediately recognized it. It was Hiro-Shu. Zesiro let out a breath of relief; he bent down and helped his friend onto his own two feet. If it wasn't for Hiro-Shu's vessel power of iron, his head probably would've been chopped off. Even as it was there was thick dent in Hiro-Shu's neck.

"Sorry about that," apologized Zesiro. He turned around and looked out back to the house. He was more on edge than he had originally believed. This was the third island they had been on since entering the Grand Line, but the terrors they had already encountered felt like hundreds of islands worth. At least the rain was letting up.

He closed his eyes as he tried to calm down. Being a pirate was nothing but a series of miniature heart attacks.

Gunning for the Hunter

Do you know how I said I had a schedule and all that? Yeah, I lied. My week just got blown to smithereens, I was busy doing handyman work (AKA doing some work that actually makes me money!) I promise you this story won't disappear for awhile...I can almost guarantee another two years of Saga (if I don't officially end before then).

I just want to say how freaking awesome everything is going! One of my artworks (not my manga) was one of the six rewards that received an award at an official art gallery! (There were over one thousand in the running though)! I'm an official artist! Yes, I love bragging, yes, I have a big head, etc.

Other than that I am honestly surprised at how far ahead I am in this story. The next arc is already nearing its climax and, dare I say it, I think it may even rival the URA despite the fact that its much shorter! I'm having a blast with life right now!