A/N and review replies will be at the end of each chapter.
I'm proud to declare Wolfen Artist of Kilguin created my cover image and I am so very grateful for the wonderful artwork!
Story currently undergoing edits! This chapter has been edited! So if I've changed anything, it might not tie in to later events at the moment!
Chapter One: In the Dead of the Night
The sun was gradually setting, sinking into the ocean. Penguin wiped his forehead, taking hold of another crate with sore fingers. He and the others had been shifting stock across the makeshift bridge between their ship and the harbour all afternoon but now he was the only one labouring into the evening. Shachi and Bepo had long forgone their chores and accompanied Law somewhere in the small town.
As much as Penguin wished to do the same, they'd all get in trouble if the job wasn't finished, so with an irritable groan, Penguin dropped yet another wooden box onto the deck. Wringing out his aching wrists, a distant cascade of music reached the crew members' ears and he looked over to where a homely marketplace was alight with soft golden lanterns half a mile up ahead. With the air being so humid, the bar doors were open wide to the refreshing seaside breeze.
Trudging back down to the wide wooden plank that acted as a makeshift bridge for the meantime, Penguin took a moment to stare up at the darkening sky. The stars had emerged, like shattered glass embedded in the atmosphere, the infinite vastness was dizzying.
The pirate plonked himself down on the last crate, stretching his neck delicately. Penguin had been tentative about loading the latest batch of supplies so late before a scouting of the island. The captain offered a small approving smile when Penguin brought it up earlier, Law had simply reassured him they would be safe. It would save time in the morning.
Standing with a sigh, the pirate lifted the final; and thankfully light, crate and hauled it over the bridge. Settling it down at the base of the plank to push it upwards - something caught his eye.
Something in the water, right up against the concrete of the short harbour wall. Abandoning his task, he stepped over carefully. Boots against the pavement, he gingerly approached until he was standing above. It was a bright white light, only small.
Looking either side of him, there were a few small fishing boats linked with large ropes to the harbour and aside from the constant swell of the waves and the faraway chatter from the town, it was quiet. No one to be seen. Crouching down to the water's edge, he peered at the shimmering orb. Reaching down, he stopped, what if it hurt him? A shuffle to his right and he turned, but he was too late.
Water surged over his face, under and through his hat. Closing his eyes instinctively, he struggled to escape the grip pushing him under. Controlling his breathing as much as he could, there was still a swell of saltwater trapped in his mouth. Parting his lips, a strained scream bubbled against his cheeks and up to the surface through his gritted teeth. Penguin tried reaching back through the water to claw at whoever was doing this but felt nothing, flailing helplessly. A few times his knuckles scraped the pavement, splitting the skin. He felt his body going weak, heavy. The next thing he knew, everything went dark.
Lifting up the man once the struggling had stopped, Molar studied his face. Definitely unconscious. Slumping the dead weight body over his broad shoulder, he grimaced at the saltwater that then trickled down his back, soaking through his clothes. He didn't even bother looking around for potential witnesses and he wasn't greeted by a soul as he made his way further up the harbour. Stepping onto another bridge heading up to the deck of a large ship. Lanterns were hooked at the entrance point and a woman stood waiting with a few others. Arms folded, she tilted her head curiously as Molar stood so she could lift up the head of the latest victim.
"Wonder what his name is," she smirked. Dropping her grip from under his chin, she surveyed over the rest of him as best she could. There was a pause in her scrutinising and her voice lowered.
"He's a Heart pirate. That's pretty risky, Molar."
The hulking man shrugged, causing Penguin to rise and fall with the movement.
"No one else was there, he was just hauling crates. We'll be long gone before they notice."
"You better hope so," the woman hummed after further silent consideration. Patting Molar on the arm twice, he moved on up to the ship.
Deep red lips curved into a sinful smile as a clump of gold coins was showered onto the wooden desk before him. The weedy receptionist stared at the shining treasure before looking up, blinking like a frightened animal.
"Biggest room in the house if you don't mind," Kid grinned.
"...Of c-course!"
A troubled smile and trembling fingers barely clasped around the key from under the desk. The pirate snatched them with his magnetism and burst out laughing when the receptionist fell back into the scruffy cushioned chair behind him. Maybe he had never heard of Kid before. The captain shook his head incredulously, of course this guy had heard of him.
"We're gonna head straight to the bar, catch you later," Kid directed at Killer who stood patiently behind him. The captain jabbed his thumb over to the front door where Heat and Wire peered in with ear splitting grins at the sound of 'bar'. Dropping the keys into the palm of the blonde, they parted ways. The receptionist was visibly relieved at their departure and was careful to not stare at the remaining masked man who didn't pay him any mind, just carried on upstairs.
The corridor was lit with amber lamps and there was a telltale chatter of other residents behind beige and burgundy walls. Reaching Room 12, last door on the left, Killer unlocked it and surveyed the space. Exhaling slowly, he was finally alone. It was a fairly big room, housing six single beds with clean cream sheets. The window was open, thin curtains swaying in the evening breeze. The comforting smell of the sea rinsing any leftover scents lingering in the room.
Killer unscrewed his blades, placing them on the bed he'd chosen for himself, closest to the window. As he turned the bedside lantern on, casting the room in a cognac glow, he mused. It wasn't a bad place, a little rundown but it was only a stop-off island. Wandering over to the window, leaning against the sill, arms folded over each other on the ledge, he stared out to the ocean. Kid wouldn't usually book into a hotel or inn during these stop-gaps but ever since he was violently sick down one of the corridors after a night of drinking, he decided he wanted to destroy the upholstery of places he didn't own.
The sea looked like oil, the new moon sky casting no light across the horizon. Looking toward the town centre, buzzing with light and life, he could've sworn he caught glance of a large, Kid shaped silhouette. Pushing down with his left leg, he winced. Yep, the pain wasn't subsiding just yet. He'd damaged his knee in a recent fight, it proved to be a good excuse to miss out on the festivities of the evening.
Stepping from the window, he leisurely unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it off and throwing it onto his bed, he was about to start on his jeans when there was a loud clatter. The distinct sound of a lock being snapped and the door was slammed open. The blonde spun, hands braced against the window ledge as he stared at the infiltrators.
"Rottnest you son of a bitch, I'll have your neck-" a woman with mint green hair stopped in her tracks, blinking at Killer.
"Who are you?" she spat.
"I ought to ask you that," he took a few calculated steps back to the right, further from the door. "Where is Rottnest?" she ignored him. Two men appeared behind her, having heard the commotion and immediately glared at Killer.
"I have no idea who you are talking about," Killer glanced at his blades over on the left, opposite to the beds which he pressed the back of his legs against now. He was glad the woman couldn't see him do so through his mask, "my crew and I just booked into this room."
"We missed him, fucks sake," she hissed, looking back at the two men who shrugged.
The Kid pirate took a chance to look the stranger up and down. A large white hat pinned with striking green feathers adorned her head, a similar shade to her short skirt and top. Short brown boots clacked against the floorboards as she walked forward, her look of irritation replaced by curiosity.
A green gloved finger against her chin and she narrowed her eyes. Bright white eyeshadow and eyelashes made her look almost unwell.
"We'll take you then, you're an impressive specimen," clicking her fingers, the two goons moved forward, lowered into attack stances and Killer instantly reacted. Unfortunately, they'd been smart enough to block him off from his swords whether they had noticed them or not.
One lunged, and Killer kicked, striking him across the temple and the lackey stumbled back with a groan. An uppercut into the chin of the other, so fast he hadn't the chance to block. Quickly stepping over the recovering bodies, the Kid pirate took a sharp dash to the left when tiny pinpricks of pain sprayed across his side, into his exposed ribs. Hissing he looked down and saw an array of thin metal darts peppered into his skin, blood trickling from them in narrow streams. Facing the woman, he saw her opening a pouch fastened to her leg to fetch more of the minute weapons, he looked at his swords and this time she did the same. Following the obvious movement of his helmet and her upper lip curled.
"You better be worth the effort," she huffed, fluidly taking two small, crisp white serrated discs from satchels in her belt, locking them onto similarly pale gauntlets. Snapping her arms downwards, the circular weapons expanded and began spinning. The drilling sound grew louder as she approached the pirate. Ducking and sliding, he kicked her legs out from under her and she fell, blocking his fists as he then went for her jaw with her armoured forearms. Springing back to avoid the blades, his arm was taken by one of the recovered, yet groggy guards. Throwing a hooked punch at him, the lackey dodged, twisting Killer's arm up behind his back and pulling. The pirate stifled a pained growl, the shock of the two discs now either side of his mask keeping him deathly still, other than the hastened rise and fall of his ragged breathing.
Her face was only a few centimetres from his headwear, her hair stuck to her skin in sweat slick strands as she hissed.
"Looks like I'm going to have to guess."
Pressing her lips against one of the upper holes in his helmet, she spat. Seeping from where it had landed above his eyebrow, Killer's vision was obscured by a liquid nothing like saliva, it was like acid. His eyes burned, an itching, crawling sensation that had him raking nails over the front of his mask in futile attempt to reach his skin. The woman had stepped back by now, satisfied and even waved her goon off his arm, even as it was released and relief flooded through him, he couldn't think properly. The substance was steaming up inside, blocking his airways. Hacking, shaking hands fumbled at his throat, he didn't know what to do.
Killer didn't realise he had fallen to his knees until he heard voices above him, looking up, his eyesight had cleared only enough for everything to be lined in bright white, the attackers appearing as distorted angels. Closing his eyes, he focused on slowing his breathing but knew from the weighted sensation in his head that he was on the brink of passing out.
When he opened his eyes, he was outside. So he had passed out.
By the jostle of movement and the stench of sweat, he had been slung over someone's shoulders, with his arms and legs bound. A crash of waves against the harbour walls and he flinched, hypersensitive. Everything else was a cluster of too bright, too loud, too rough. A haze of lantern lights, wooden planks groaning, encroaching conversation, a hand patting him on the back in a way that was anything but reassuring.
"Wow captain, he's a catch," a nasally voice praised, with it the hand retracted and Killer assumed the speaker was the one to smack him like a ripened fruit.
"Not an easy one, he's the last for tonight, haven't the strength for anymore, not to mention we didn't even find Rottnest," she rolled her eyes, sighing. Curling her arms up to fold against her chest, she looked out over the ocean.
"Get him below deck and set sail, I'll be in my quarters."
"Yes Captain," was the resounding answer.
Hoisted up again, the swaying returned as the one in charge of him made his way across the ship, down towards an opened hatch where wide stairs made an appearance, lowering them into the underbelly. Pale wooden corridors passed him, a distant clatter of footsteps and voices from all over. Killer closed his eyes as the swinging movements brought on another onslaught of dizziness. Whatever that woman had done was still clogging his senses. They eventually stopped, a loud metal scraping noise and the telltale jangling of keys made Killer pay attention. As much as he could anyway.
"Where are we?!" an outraged voice called out, followed by the sound of skin against skin in a blow to the face.
"You'd be smart to treat us with some respect. Your new life starts with such basic training as that," was the returning growl.
"You are on the White Knife, ship of the Pirate Captain Arabella Mint."
The man holding Killer answered the question, hauling the Kid pirate from his shoulder to the ground impolitely, the blonde hitting the floor like a sack of potatoes.
Killer didn't think he'd heard the name before, he remained irritably still as the man crouched behind him, yanking him to an uncomfortable sitting position as he unlocked his cuffs from both wrists and ankles, warning Killer not to try anything. It was so dark in the cabin, he had no way of discerning the size of the room, how many were in there or any other tidbits of vital information.
So no, he didn't try anything, not when he knew he couldn't win.
"I suggest you lot rest, you'll be moved into semi-permanent sleeping quarters tomorrow," the man who carried Killer announced, his silhouette intimidating in the light of the doorway as he stood. He and the crewmate responsible for silencing the more curious abductee left with a slam and bolting of the exit. Truly leaving the massacre soldier and those with him, in pitch black darkness.
Readjusting his position so he was sitting against something, a supporting wooden pillar by the feel of it, Killer coughed, trying to rinse his throat of the disgusting liquid the woman had tainted him with. Knowing who was responsible for his capture didn't give him as much to work with as he hoped for. If only he'd been able to leave more of a clue for his Captain, more than his absence and the blood spattered floorboards.
A pulsing ache in his leg made him shudder, lifting it up toward him and then stretching it out again slowly, warming the stiff muscles. The little fight at the hotel did not help his recovery. His aggravated knee was just another thing to take into consideration when deliberating an escape plan when the sun arose.
What was this...Captain Arabella Mint's intentions? It wasn't calculated enough to be a bounty collection, she seemingly hadn't recognised him at the hotel. Tilting his head back, he swallowed, he'd do anything for some water just about now.
He'd been getting ready for bed before the...capture. His body was worn from old pains and the long travel before reaching the stop-off island. Now the fatigue had doubled. Slumping his body to the left, back still against the pillar, Killer was met with a warm, firm surface and a yelp. Sitting back up, he turned mask to nose with a stranger. It was too dark to make out any defining features, he felt a light puff of air through the holes in his helmet before retreating backwards.
"Careful...I'm sitting here," they uttered awkwardly, Killer almost missing the words they were so quiet.
"Yeah...sorry," he returned, not in any shape nor mood to be confrontational, not that he tended to be.
How had Killer not noticed him before? The...stranger was practically thigh to thigh with the Kid pirate now that he noticed their proximity, maybe he was more exhausted than he thought.
"I can move if you..need to lie down," the voice piped up again, this time a little clearer. Despite how late it must be, there was still a rumbling murmur of voices around them, the occasional cough or sob breaking through. Killer blinked, trying to make out more of the person before him, but to no avail, his vision still blurry.
"Do you mind?"
In response the silhouette shuffled forwards.
"This is all I can manage...there's no space next to me," he whispered.
It would be rude for Killer to not take the opportunity to rest now he'd requested it, and so he bent his arm beneath his head, lying on it as he relaxed against the ground, knees curled up. It meant he was lying behind his new companion. Killer closed his eyes, wincing at another spike of pain behind his eyes. Inhaling slowly, he noticed how a pleasantly clean smell met his senses, almost clinically clean. It was soaked in the clothes of the man sat in front.
"You alright?" the voice appeared again and Killer grunted in affirmation.
"S-so...any idea what is going on?" they tried now, fidgeting.
"Afraid not," was the grumbled reply. With the familiar rock of the ocean beneath the hull, and the warm darkness enveloping his tired body, the Kid pirate felt the weight of sleep drag him under. Luckily the stranger didn't say anything more, Killer wondered if he'd say anything in the morning after getting a good look at the massacre soldier.
A/N: Pirate Captain Arabella Mint and her crew, "The Teeth Pirates" on their ship "The White Knife" belong to me, they are the villains if you haven't already gathered and are more for depth and to avoid hating on any canon characters who I would otherwise use in a villainous manner.
-LAW09
Angelmon: It's a shame they are so underrated, I am so glad you are interested in my story so early on, thanks so much for the first review!
KiraraCutie: I always get nervous when trying to keep characters in character so thanks for the praise! I'm very glad you are excited and that you continue to enjoy.
snoopypompom: (Awesome username) NO, you are NOT alone! We will unite for this pairing! They are adorable together in my opinion, Killer IS a perv isn't he? (I say this like I didn't expect it, I'm bloody writing it) haha, I guess it's his way of taking it slow, this review made my day! Thank you!
vetii: I am fine thanks, how come you ask?
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