Piratas de Corazón

Tea Sipping Bastard

Arthur dropped his pistol to the floor. Everywhere was silent for a second… Then the crews continued their fighting. Antonio collapsed on the floor… blood filling up as a puddle around him. Calmly, leaking through the plank of wood onto the floor below. Meanwhile, Arthur lay on the deck in a heap… concussion was now settling in.

Now, you may be probably wondering what the hell just happened; well I could easily tell you, but what's the fun in that? Instead I could type, on and on to you, your anticipation growing. Your hunger for blood thirst resolved… (Do we perhaps have any vampires reading this?... What about werewolves? …Yes! Oh good! I feel an evil laugh coming along )

A mass of dead bodies lay around the ship now; rats were already beginning to chew the warm flesh, slurping at the waterfall that surrounds every one of them. The decaying corpses sometimes resting in layers then in other places no bodies but pieces of an arm were found. The sound of clashing swords bounced off the ocean into an echo far away. Occasionally, grenades were thrown causing parts of the ship to lurch out in pain; its wounds becoming all the more deeper, its gashes allowing water to run in freely.

So it is now that we return to the story, or should I say the part of the story that interest most of you the most. A broken bucket lay to the side of Arthur, grateful that it had done its duty. Antonio peeked open an eye realising that he had neither felt pain nor heard the shot. In front of him stood Romano.

"Don't just stand there you damn idiot! The ship's going down! What are we meant to do?" Romano bawled attempting to pull up the lazy Antonio.

Antonio groaned as he pulled himself up, his eyes came upon the unconscious Arthur, now peacefully asleep dreaming about his Empire. He inspected his wound and tore off a bit of material from his arm to use as a dressing; all the time Romano scowling at him indecisively.

Once Antonio was ready he focussed on a way of getting out. There was now only two or three British left compared to his fiftyish crew. It was now that he spotted Arthur's nimble, quant ship still parked up next door. One of Antonio's famous smiles flashed upon his face.

"Onto the other ship! Abandon ship!" Antonio jumped onto the side of the ship with Romano obediently following him, his cutlass already out from the fight. "Romano hold on!"

He wrapped his hand tight around the rope cutting the bottom before pushing off. Romano yelped as his grip on Antonio began to slip. Antonio clutched him tighter. All around them, his crew was following his lead, cutting down the last remaining British that dared to stand in their way. Before waking the British ship from its dreary sleep.

The crew set to work waking it; forcing its anchor up as it creaked and moaned, setting the sails to the wind. The ship launched into action ditching the other whining, suffering ship with Arthur on. At the helm steering: Antonio, grinning to himself, once again enchanted by the sea's beauty… In a complete trance of joy and power.