Chapter Four: Captain

~~ My legs were as heavy as led as I opened the door to the Captain's Quarters and found that the cabin boy had high tailed it back down to the deck. Anyways, it was as if I was stepping into a mysterious womb, everything before me was red; the walls, the rich Persian carpet on the floor, the pennants suspected from the concave roof. Soft, subdued candle-light and a heavy aroma of fragrant oils and incense made the atmosphere weigh down upon me like an enchanting cloud. A strange, heavy lethargy began to creep over me and I had to blink to clear my head before I could focus on the man who reclined upon the floor cushions. In stark contrast to the warm opulence of his surroundings, he was dressed from hand to foot in black and his face was now entirely concealed behind a white mask.

The effect suggested power, a cold, thrilling majesty; it was as though I had stumbled upon one of the ancient gods of mythology! He did not look up when I entered and for a long while he continued to tinker with an intricate looking casket whilst I hovered by the doorway, troubled by a growing sense of invisibility. He ignored me so completely that I began to be persuaded that he was quite unaware of my presence and consequently I allowed myself to stare at him with vulgar curiosity. I could not help but notice his fingers, which were extraordinarily thin, I would say scarcely more than bones. They were of positively inhuman length and they moved with a graceful dexterity that was oddly fascinating.

Mesmerized, I stood and stared; then, suddenly, I became aware that he was watching me stare!

The scrutiny of those unblinking eyes behind the mask made me very nervous. There was something sinister, almost reptilian, in the stillness of that black-clad figure, something that reminded me, uncomfortably, of a cobra reading to strike. "So, they've treated you right, have they?" Asked he and my mouth hung agape, for, nothing in his austere appearance prepared me for his voice. Even when I heard it, quite in close vicinity, I hadn't heard it without all of the din of the deck and angry pirates muddling it. I had never expected to hear such a voice outside of paradise; to encounter it here, in this draughty, ill-lit room, which held its own kind of terror, for who was he-what was he-to be possessed of such divinity of sound?

Now, I wondered whether I beheld an angel or a devil; and even now, after these years, it is a question I still ponder. "E-Excuse me?" I asked, falling back down from the observant heavens to reality; he gave a chuckle that sent chills through my spine.

"Did the men treat you right? They didn't hurt you anymore?" He clarified, a smile passing his tight lips. My cheeks flushed burgundy, and I felt an emotion I could not fathom.

"N-No, they didn't; in fact they were...uh...q-quite helpful." I said hastily, lapsing into stuttering in my confusion. The captain continued tinkering with the strange, little casket; it was black with shimmering golden designs swirling all over it. White colour lined the edges of it. He held the casket towards himself, the top was opened and a golden star was painted on the top; there were a few sharp clicks and he grinned, placing a small screwdriver beside him (or, it seemed small in comparison to his fingers) closing the lid and setting it on the other side of him. He rose and I became awash with apprehension as he took a step towards me.

"And, how was this ensued upon?" He asked, a slight hiss in his voice. The menace in his voice had become indescribable and his physical nearness was a thing of terror.

"I...I...I" I stuttered, taking baby steps away from him; I could clearly tell he was smiling at himself beneath the mask.

"Are you afraid I'm going to hurt you, madam? Do you believe I bite?" He paused, a sinister smirk taking the place of the self-absorbed smile. He stepped ever closer, over the satin pillow that worked as a barrier between us; I continued backing up until my personal space was nothing but a piece of dust floating about the room. He cornered me and placed his right hand against the wall, beside my head; the smirk still glued to his face.

"I don't bite...very hard; if you would like proof I can give you a demonstration" said he, whispering 'demonstration' into my ear with a seductive tone. If my cheeks weren't burning crimson before, they sure were now!

Only squeaks spilled from my mouth now and he chuckled again, but not with the heart-stopping menace that plagued the first. My lips quivered and my eyelids clenched shut as his slow breathing beat down upon my neck and tickled my ear; I felt coolness on my ear and he backed away from me, turning and walking to the corner of the room where water was bubbling steadily inside the brass urn of a samovar. Removing the little china teapot from the top of the charcoal, he poured a single cup, added a slice of lemon and turned back to me; I was still shaking like a leaf in the midst of a windstorm. He placed the steaming cup down upon a large, black desk with papers strewn about it and came back over to me, offering his hand. Slowly, I slipped my own hand into his, it was quite warm and his skin felt of the satin that covered the puffy pillows that once surrounded him.

He grasped tightly onto my hand and led me over to the little circle of pillows, pointing to a spot where I collapsed. He turned on his heel and lifted up the cup, giving it promptly to me; I gave a quick smile, or, the best I could make of one, and brought the cup to my lips as he sprawled out across from me, taking back up the little, black and gold casket. His mood had changed abruptly with my embarrassment but he was still toying with me, as a cat plays with a mouse, but gently now; with sheathed claws. "No doubt you have questions" said he after a tense silence, he glanced up at me from his casket a few times; I nodded quickly and glanced down to my hands to discover that my teacup was trembling and the water inside quivered with it. I still wasn't fully over his seductive proposal.

"W-Why did you kill my family a-and not me?" I asked meekly, yet, he still heard me. His reptilian, daffodil burning eyes stared hard at me whilst his lips curled into a purse. He laid on his side, facing me, his black trench coat enveloped half of his legs, but unveiled his arms, which, I now found were quite toned.

"I never set finger upon your family" said he simply; continuing to tinker with his casket.

"You know what I mean, sir." Said I, his eyes flicked back up to me.

"Maybe I don't, madam. Maybe I don't know what you mean; maybe, if you don't clarify your denotation I will take my own understanding of your phrase and fit it to my fancy. If we agree with this theory if you ever say 'Please...' and trail off or stutter the singular letter 'I' several times and your lips quiver with fervor, I will take that as a sign of sexual stimulation and continue doing whatever it was that I was doing" he paused and set his casket down upon the wooden boards; that was possibly the loudest, most ominous, foreboding sound my ears would ever have the displeasure of hearing. He raised himself to all fours and advanced upon me; stealing the china cup away from my fingers and placing it on the desk beside us. I attempted to scramble away but he grasped my hands and held me before him.

"Because, I'm a pirate" he continued "and, not only that; I am a Captain. And pirates are bad, bad men who love the taste of a woman, hmm?" He paused and sneered. "If you think that's just the crew, what, do you suppose, I'm like, then?" He asked, my heart was somewhere in the stratosphere as it pumped its way out of my ribcage and ripped through my skin; he was only inches away from me!

What was I to do?

I opened my mouth to respond but quickly closed it, figuring that the question was rhetorical, or, that I was incapable of answering and would stumble over my words, if they fell out of my mouth sounding like words at all! He grinned and backed off, sitting back on his haunches in his original place in the pillow circle and picking up the casket again. "That is why, madam, you must clarify what you mean." He explained; I nodded quickly. After a few moments of contemplation I came up with another question he could surely answer!

"Why are they dead? My family, I mean." Asked I, he nodded at my improvement.

"I ordered them so" He replied and I sighed, finally, I was getting somewhere!

"Why did you order them so?" I asked my trembling beginning anew. He shrugged and laid back on a satin pillow, staring at me.

"Because, I wanted them to be"

"Why did you want them to be?" I asked, he grinned.

"Because, I just did" he replied; this sent a chill through my bones. This man had the ability that, on a whim, he could kill whomever he wanted and get away with it. After a long silence I asked my next question.

"Why...why did you not order me dead, too?" I asked, looking up to him and, for the first time since I saw him, staring him dead in the eyes. This only lasted, however, for a few moments; his scrutiny was too harsh for me and caused my cheeks to flush again.

"Because, I don't want you dead" he answered, staring hard at me.

"Why don't you want me dead?" I asked; his grin widened.

"Because, I just don't" he answered; my god, would I ever get a straight answer from this man? He laughed and suddenly I was awash with fatigue and the urge to lay down became overwhelming; the pillows looked so soft and shined so beautifully, then again, did I really want to fall into a slumber near this man? All of a sudden he grasped the casket and slid it across the floor, over to me. "Press the star upon the top when you arrive back in you cell and let no one besides yourself touches it. If anyone does; tell me."

Said he; I gave a small nod, not wanting to anger this man who seemed like he could snap me like a twig. He stood and in consequence I stood, holding the small casket he had tinkered with so continuously; he opened the door for me and the sun attacked my senses. I winced in pain and placed my right hand upon my forehead, shielding the sun's rays from my eyes; I didn't want to go back to that cell. I stepped out of that strange room and he followed behind me, making sure I made it to my cell quite alright; or, so I figured.

~~ The sense of menace and ill-omen were still with me long after I left his quarters. It was dawn before I was able to sleep that night and when I did I heard his voice echoing through my restless dreams like a curious echo of doom.