Reaver's Servants

Dead Annie's Revenge

The sea faring men of Albion have a legend

When the storms on the seas get too rough

When the rain starts hitting the ship like bullets

Dead Annie is on her way

The storm clouds are her jolly roger

The lightening is your only warning

You'll hear no cannon fire

Not even a warning bell

When Dead Annie comes to claim a new crew…

Reaver's eyes remained closed as he tried to escape the gnawing feeling he had been getting since early that morning. He assumed it was the lackluster breakfast he had Miss Sarah make. He didn't want to eat too much, as he and his servants were about to embark on a voyage. This trip meant many things to Reaver, but he wouldn't say them out loud. He stared out the open window of his bedroom, sighing softly.

His mind wondered to his time on the open sea, before his sudden transformation into a "proper" businessman. The ocean wind in his hair, the thrill of adventure around any corner, and the spoils of a captured ship brought a nostalgic smile to his face. Reaver found his thoughts going back to his pirate days a lot lately, and couldn't get the thought of how it all began out of his head. The promise of treasure makes even the smartest captain as gullible as the dumbest deck hand was his only thought as he stared out the window.

"Mr. Reaver?" Rosie softly nudged him out of his day dream. "How many shirts did you want me to pack?" she asked, standing over an open suitcase.

Reaver eyed Rosie for a moment, forgetting himself, but then regained his composure. "About nine or so." He responded, closing the window and locking it.

The summer day was hot. The beginning of summer was always hot. Gordon and Barry spent of most of the sweltering morning loading luggage onto the top of Reaver's personal carriage. The carriage was usually kept in a shed in the garden and they had to rent a horse from a farm in Silverpines, but Reaver never had to pay for carriage passage anywhere. After Reaver's suitcases were loaded, the other luggage went on. All servants (save for Rosie, who was helping Reaver pack) were outside and in uniform.

"Why is he making us wear our uniforms? What are we supposed to clean the inside of the carriage?" asked Willa, throwing her suitcase to Gordon.

"We're not taking a carriage all the way there, Willa." corrected Beryl, tossing her suitcase at Barry. He caught it, but not before it hit his nose. "It would take days to get to Bloodstone by carriage. I think we're going to Industrial and taking a boat." She added. Willa sighed and crossed her arms.

"Did you say…boat?" asked Miss Sarah, as she walked outside with her luggage (which consisted of a handbag and a suitcase). Miss Sarah's face turned a slight color of green. "I…I don't do so well on boats…" she said softly, already feeling her stomach turning.

Rubbing his nose as he walked up, Barry saw Miss Sarah tremble. "What's the matter, Miss Sarah?" he asked, as he carefully took her suitcase.

"Well, I tend to get a little…sea sick on long boat rides." She mumbled. Barry carefully put her suitcase on the others.

"Oh, no need to worry yourself, Miss Sarah!" he said, jovially. "It's not a long boat ride; probably no more than a day or so. We'll be in Bloodstone before you know it."

Nodding, though still not sure, Miss Sarah tried not to think about it. It was at that time Reaver walked out with Rosie, who was holding her bag and his last suitcase. "Oh what a glorious day! The sun is shining, the birds are singing; why, it's the perfect day for a voyage, wouldn't you all agree?" he shouted jovially. Rosie handed the luggage to Gordon and he strapped it all down. "Alright, is everyone packed up? We have a long voyage ahead!"

"Long voyage, Sir?" asked Miss Sarah, somewhat nervous.

"Oh yes, my dear! A few days on a ship, oooh such fun! Reminds me of my pirating days!" Reaver didn't notice how nervous (and nauseous) Miss Sarah had become. "The sea air in your face, the gentle rocking motion of the boat, sea water splashing to and fro…up and down, up and down…"

BLEH!

Reaver looked up from his speech and saw Miss Sarah, bent over a shrub holding her stomach. "Miss Sarah, don't ruin Gordon's lovely shrubbery." said Reaver, nonchalantly. "Now, get in, all of you! We have a schedule to keep!"

Reavie came dashing out of the house as Rosie was shutting the door. The little kitty cat jumped into Willa's arms and purred happily. "Can't forget that flea-bitten thing, now can we?" he muttered and boarded the carriage.

Barry entered after Reaver and sat next to him. Rosie entered next and sat across from Reaver and Barry. Willa and Beryl got in next and sat next to Rosie. Miss Sarah, still a bit queasy, got in and sat by the window, next to Barry. Reavie made herself comfortable on Willa's lap. Gordon closed the door and hoped onto the coach's seat. "Alright, everyone ready?" he shouted. Reaver stuck his gloved hand out the window and motioned for him to go. Gordon snapped the reins and the carriage was off.

"Miss Sarah, are you going to be alright?" asked Beryl, breaking the silence.

"Yes, yes…I'll be fine. The fresh air is helping me a bit…" she said, as she reclined her head near the window.

"You never traveled by boat in the circus?" asked Reaver, pretending he cared just to make conversation.

"No…caravans, most of the time. Our ringleader was pretty cheap." said Rosie. Will and Beryl nodded, with Beryl adjusting her glasses to keep the sun's glare from hurting her eyes. "Though, whenever we did have to go by ship anywhere, it would explain why Miss Sarah would never leave the cabin area."

Willa sat up and looked at Rosie, who sat by the window on their side of the carriage. She hated sitting in the middle, but said nothing about it. Tapping his foot loudly (he hated awkward silences, though he was often the cause of some of them), Reaver looked at Willa, who was swinging her legs. For someone who wants to be treated like an adult, she sure has many child-like mannerisms he thought, placing his hands in his lap.

"We're entering Bowerstone, Mr. Reaver!" shouted Gordon from outside.

"Very good, Gordon! Keep this up, we're making good time!" Reaver shouted, looking at his pocket watch.

After a little while, the carriage came to a stop in Industrial. Reaver got out first, then Barry, then the others. "Watch your step, Miss Sarah." said Barry, helping her down with a blush. He smiled softly and went to help Gordon. Reaver took in the air around him and smiled. He was probably the only person in all of Industrial that was smiling (or at least sober and smiling).

Willa, still holding on tightly to Reavie, looked up in wonder at Reaver's ship. "It's beautiful, Mr. Reaver!" she shouted, happily.

Reaver patted her on the head and smiled. "Why, thank you, Little Bit. I do try…" she noted the air of pomposity in his remark.

Gordon and Barry unloaded the luggage onto the ship, with the help of a few of the ship's crew members. Gordon and Barry boarded last. "Mr. Hatch, is it really a good idea to be sailing today?" asked Gordon, pointing to some storm clouds on the horizon.

Barry looked to where Gordon was pointing. "Probably not, but it won't stop Reaver…" Barry's nonchalant response did little to set Gordon at ease. Barry looked up at the storm clouds on the far horizon. He had heard the tales and even heard some of the crew murmuring. Barry usually made a note not to believe superstitions, but this particular one he always made an exception for. "Dead Annie might sail tonight…" he muttered to himself.

After everything and everyone was loaded on, Reaver gave everyone the grand tour of his private ship. "It is a short voyage to Bloodstone, so we probably won't have much need for a few of the facilities on this boat. But better safe than sorry, as they say." Everyone followed him below deck. He guided them down the hall, opened one of the doors and presented a grand cabin with everything one would need. It looked almost identical to his bedroom at the manor. "This is my cabin. I ask that you don't disturb me when I am in here unless I ask for you or something is on fire."

He then directed his servants to another room. He opened the door and presented them with the sorriest excuse for a room they had ever seen. The cabin was small and had bunk beds aligning the wall. "It seems some of you might be sleeping on the floor." He chuckled softly. The stunned servants just stood there, staring into the lifeless cabin. "Get settled in, we take off soon." Reaver jovially left the servants to their cabin. Reavie jumped out of Willa's arms and immediately made herself at home on the bottom right bunk.

"Umm…Master Reaver?" Barry tapped Reaver's shoulder. "Where will I be sleeping?" he asked, nervously.

"Why, Barry, my most loyal servant…I wouldn't have you sleep in that dank little water closet, I respect you too much." Reaver smiled deviously as he placed his hand on Barry's shoulder. Barry had a feeling admiration for Reaver. That feeling quickly went away when Reaver stuck Barry in his own little water closet near the brig. While it was indeed his own room, Barry felt he might as well be bunking with the servants. At least their appointed room smelled better.

"Part of me is convinced this used to be part of the brig." Barry muttered as Reaver poked the cot mattress with his cane.

"Part of you would be right, I think." said Reaver, as he poked the bed some more. "I've never heard a cot make that kind of squishy squeaking noise." He mumbled, as he backed out of the room. "Alright, after you all get settled in meet me up top on the deck!" Reaver yelled into the hallway as he made his way up top.

The servants didn't take long to get settled in (they didn't have anywhere to put their things) and joined Reaver on deck. Barry followed them and stood next to Reaver. "We shove off soon, so get a good look at Bowerstone! We won't be returning for two weeks." The servants looked over the sides of the boat. The gentle rocking of the ship didn't do well for Miss Sarah, who refused to move an inch near the edge of the boat.

"Weigh anchor and hoist the mizzen!" shouted Reaver, chuckling to himself. "Feels good to talk old pirate lingo." He sighed happily. The anchor up and sails drawn, the boat was off. Reaver took off his hat and smiled as the wind flowed through his hair. It was a nice feeling and the nostalgia overtook him almost immediately. "Ahh, the sea air! I do miss it sometimes." he smiled and looked over at the servants, as they stared at the disappearing port. He saw Miss Sarah holding on to the mast for dear life while Barry was trying to coax her to join the others. "Oh yes, this will be fun…" he muttered to himself.

The afternoon at sea dragged on, with not much else happening. Reaver stayed on deck, keeping a close eye on the deck hands and making sure they kept to a strict schedule. "Master Reaver, we finally got Miss Sarah to come out of the cabin, and once we calmed her down a bit, she asked what you'd like for lunch." said Barry, walking up to Reaver.

"Nothing big, I don't want to upset my stomach on this voyage. A salad would be fine." muttered Reaver, looking out to the sea. Memories of the sea engulfed Reaver's mind and it made him smile. His days of adventure, capturing ships, killing crews, and taking treasures were still fresh in his mind, sending a chill he quite enjoyed down his spine. He watched the crew go about their business doing this and that.

"Reaver!" yelled a scruffy voice from behind.

Reaver turned around and saw one of his crew men standing in attention. "Yes, what is it?" Reaver asked calmly.

"We have reports of a storm coming this way. A nasty looking one, but nothing we can't manage. We won't be hitting it until this evening but we thought it'd be best to warn you now." said the man, a bit nervous about being around Reaver.

"Well, do what you must and come get me if anything goes wrong." Reaver left the deck and made his way below, toward the kitchen.

Two crew men watched Reaver sashayed his way below deck. "How bad is the storm?" asked one of the crew men.

"It's looking bad, but I don't think Dead Annie will be sailing tonight…"

The winds picked up and so did the waves in the late evening. The rain had only started, but already the servants and the crew were soaked down to their underclothes. The boat rocked violently, which didn't do much for Miss Sarah's stomach. "Here, lass; it'll settle your stomach." said one of the deck hands, handing her a flask.

"I don't drink much…" said Miss Sarah, politely refusing. The ship swayed violently and almost knocked Miss Sarah over. "Since you insisted…" she smiled and took the flask, taking small nips from it.

As Reaver yelled orders to the crew and the storm worsened, Barry hurried everyone below deck. "You know what the old pirates say about big storms, right?" he said, handing them all towels when they reached the kitchen.

"What about big storms?" asked Willa, drying herself off.

"There is an old folk legend about storms." Barry started as Miss Sarah turned the stove on to make tea. "They say that when a big storm arises, Dead Annie is on her way."

"Dead Annie?" asked Miss Sarah, putting the tea pot on the burner.

"Yep, the legend of Dead Annie. I figured one of the 'sea dogs' around here would have mentioned it." Barry leaned back in his chair as everyone sat around the table and listened. "Well, hundreds of years ago, a pirate going by the name of 'Dead Annie' used to patrol the waters around Bloodstone Port. They say no sea was too rough for her and her crew, no one too tough to defeat her. When she heard of spoils to be had, you better believe she had it before anyone else."

"Why did they call her 'Dead Annie'?" asked Rosie, leaning forward.

"They say her gaze could strike any man dead, be he the strongest pirate, or the most cowardly noble. She was as deadly as she was beautiful and there was no fairer woman that sailed the seas, they say. Nothing was out of Dead Annie's grasp. One night, a violent storm blew onto the horizon, but Annie had heard of a treasure being taken to port, and of course, wanted in on it. Her crew refused to go with her, seeing it more suicidal than they liked." Barry stopped his story when Miss Sarah got up to fetch the tea, as the kettle was whistling. She poured each person a cup of tea and sat back down with her cup. "Well, they say she sailed into the storm alone, and she was never heard from again. Her ship, her body, nothing was ever found of her. After that night, sailors from all over swear that when a violent storm forms, they see Dead Annie and her ship, looking for a new crew."

"Oh, it seems I missed the bedtime story. You do spin a good yarn, Barry." said Reaver, as he stomped into the kitchen, sopping wet. Miss Sarah got up and started making him a cup of tea. "Skip the tea, Miss Sarah, and just give me whatever's in that flask the deck hand gave you." Reaver took the flask and downed it in one gulp. Willa gave him a fresh towel and he dried himself off. "That storm is violent, but it should calm soon. Hopefully we'll be in Bloodstone by tomorrow afternoon." Reaver announced, drying his hair. "In order to get through this, I want everyone to stay below deck until the worst of the storm passes. Let the deck hands do their jobs and everything should be fine." Reaver placed the flask down after he attempted to take one more swig. "Now, off to bed with all of you. The sooner we rise, the sooner we'll be in Bloodstone."

The calmness of the night was eerie, and kept anyone from getting any real sleep. Thunder roared after a little while, and lightening flashing from the hallway kept the servants from sleeping soundly. Above deck, the fog slowly encased the boat, as a dark storm cloud blackened the sky. The creaking of old wood could be heard by the deck hands still awake. The deck hands watched the storm cloud engulf their ship, with rain hitting the deck like bullets. The air became icy and all available deck hands watched as a decrepit ship sailed out of the storm clouds engulfing the sea and right beside them. Without an anchor, the ship somehow came to a complete stop.

The creaky, seaweed covered boat housed only wisps. A feminine form could be seen through the dense fog and icy rain. A wisp floated next to the form, as if whispering something to the apparition. The form smiled a boney smile and halted the ship. Laying a plank down, the apparition walked slowly toward the other ship. "Avast ye, swabs…I come baring no good will…"

"Dead Annie!" one crew men yelled, running toward the warning bell. The warning bell rang loudly, waking up Reaver and his servants. The deck hands raced about, trying to find some way to stop the impending doom that was now boarding the ship.

Her skin was white as snow and one eye was missing. Her clothes tattered and her hair a wet mess. Dead Annie was here to claim more for her ghastly crew. She pointed a boney finger at the deck hands and shrieked a ghastly noise.

Reaver awoke when he heard this and reached for his gun almost immediately. He heard bloodcurdling screams coming from above. Hurriedly putting on a shirt, pants, and his boots, Reaver opened his side table drawer and picked out his gun, and a dagger. He put the dagger in his boot and held his gun close as he ran topside, seeing only fog. The warning bell was still ringing. Reaver made his way toward the sound and his eyes widened at the sight of Dead Annie standing over the warning bell. "Hello, Reaver…" she whispered. "It's been a long time…how have you been?"

"Dead Annie…" he whispered, as if addressing an old rival.

"You haven't aged a bit, Reaver…" said the apparition, taking out her cutlass.

"Wish I could say the same for you…" mocked Reaver, holding his gun in the air. Dead Annie smiled her crooked dead smile, but didn't move. "You look like you went down with your ship like a good captain should always do." Reaver's mocking tone did not entertain the apparition.

With her one remaining eye glowing, her hollow crew appeared weapons ready. Reaver smiled deviously at the ghost and her crew. "You have a hearty crew, my dove, just like the old days. But I've taken on my share of hollow men, and won!" It didn't take many shots to down some of her crew. "If you're looking for a new crew, like the legends go, you'll have to look elsewhere."

Dead Annie cackled evilly as a few wisps replaced the hollow crewmembers Reaver shot. "I don't need a new crew anymore. All these years, I've been searching for you. I couldn't rest until you were in my sights again, standing before me as you used to…"

Reaver cocked an eyebrow. "I knew you had a crush on me, Annie, my dear, but to defy death just to find me…"

Dead Annie growled at the notion of her being in love with the likes of him. "I have no such emotion for you, you land-lubing scat sucker!" she screamed.

"Well, no need to shout obscenities, my dove. We're all civilized people…and zombies..." Reaver murmured.

The apparition had no patience for Reaver's lack of finesse when dealing with the dead. "You…you were the one that turned my crew against me, fed me false information about the spoils coming to port, and watched as I sailed to my death." She screamed, her cutlass pointed at Reaver.

"I had to get rid of you, somehow. Your crew needed a new captain, and after I killed a few of them, the rest happily agreed. I knew you wouldn't give up your crew so easily, so I had to start a mutiny. It was quite entertaining, to be honest…" Reaver laughed.

She glared at him with her one eye. "I have waited a long time for this. I feel disappointed, though…you don't look like a pirate or the 'King of Thieves' that the wisps tell me of. You look more like…a fop…"

Her acidic insult barely fazed Reaver; he could honestly say he'd been called worse. "Time is an incurable disease, 'me hearty'. One must keep with the times, move on the greener pastures, as they say. Too bad you never had the opportunity I had. Of course, I must thank you…"

"Why thank the one who is about to rip your spine out and beat you to death with it?" the apparition asked.

Keeping himself oddly composed, Reaver grinned at the apparition and chuckled softly. "If not for you, I'd have never gotten into pirating and never have heard about the seal. The only downside to you dying is that it took me so long to find the map you left behind to where the seal was located. You could have avoided your own horrible demise if you had just handed it over when I asked you nicely…"

Her one eye twitching, Dead Annie summoned more of her hollow crew. "Kill anything that moves on this ship, but leave Reaver to me." She commanded, as the wisps disappeared around the ship. "My revenge is at hand, Reaver! You'll not slink your way out of this, you slimy dog!"

Below deck, the screams of the crew men woke up the servants. They heard knocking at their door and watched as Reavie, still on the bottom bunk, hissed and growled. All the servants standing at the back of the room, hoping it was Barry or Reaver. Gordon slowly reached under his mattress for a weapon he fashioned earlier. He didn't trust the crew, and at that moment, he felt fashioning a bludgeon out of a piece of a stray pipe he found in the kitchen was probably the best idea he's had.

The knocking got louder as Gordon got closer to the door. Before he could touch the door knob, the door exploded, sending pieces of wood everywhere. Dead Annie's hollow crew stood at the door. Before Gordon could act, Reavie attacked the hollow man in front, giving the servants a chance to escape to the deck. Miss Sarah stopped dead in her tracks as they passed the kitchen. She ran inside, picked up a frying pan and ran toward the brig swinging.

"Where is she going?" screamed Beryl, as the hollow crew chased them.

"Probably to get Mr. Hatch, now move!" yelled Gordon, pushing the others toward the deck.

"Mr. Hatch!" yelled Miss Sarah, as she smashed her way through hollow crew men. The brittle bones exploded as she smacked her way to Barry's room. She reached his room but found it empty. Miss Sarah ran toward the brig, but found nothing but piles of hollow crew bones. She backed up slowly and found herself in one's grasp.

Before she could scream, its head blew off. Barry smiled as the hollow crew man's head hit the ground. "I found a rifle." He smiled. She ran up to him and smiled.

"I came back to find you! What's going on?" she asked, as he took her hand and led her toward the deck. "Dead Annie is here." He said, without emotion. "The legend is true, apparently." Barry interrupted, holding the rifle in his other hand. "Where did everyone go?" he asked, turning his head to face her.

"Up top, I believe." Miss Sarah said, holding her frying pan weapon close. They both raced toward the deck, where they could hear the wind howling.

Each servant stood in front of the hollow crew, which surrounded them. "Hey, you guys; remember that time our ringleader had us fight off that band of mercenaries that came after him?" said Rosie, calmly. Each one nodded. Rosie cracked her knuckles and put her fists up. "Same applies here." She said, with a weird smile. Everyone gained the same smile and charged the hollow crew head on.

Rosie took the hollow men on the left with an energy that amazed the dead men. Each punch landed precisely, with jaws cracking and bones breaking, making them explode into dust. She dodged each attempted attack with relative ease and barely changed her expression.

Beryl hopped onto a crate and stood on her hands, attacking with wild kicks from every angle imaginable. She hopped off the crate and attached herself to a hollow man's neck, snapping it with her knees and then jumping down. Two hollow men rushed her from both sides. She proceeded to do a fast split and let the two crash into each other, spraying the area with hollow men dust.

Reaver didn't have to look behind himself at the mayhem his servants were causing. He just kept staring at Dead Annie with a self-satisfying smirk. Dead Annie watched as her hollow crew dissipated into dust one by one. "Your crew sure knows how to put on a show." She said, in her ghoulish fashion.

"Ex-circus performers." Reaver muttered, glancing behind him for a moment. Dead Annie nodded, watching the spectacle.

Willa stood in front of a whole crowd of hollow crew men, all of which towered over her. Willa looked around for a weapon, but found only a fallen beam. "How oddly convenient!" she shouted happily as she grabbed it. Willa focused all her strength and picked up the beam as if picking up a stick. She balanced herself and smiled deviously. "Come at me, bro." she growled as she started mowing down hollow men.

Gordon joined Rosie in the fray and they stood back to back. "Rosie, give me a leg up." He said, calmly. Rosie joined her hands together and tossed Gordon into the air. The hollow men watched as Gordon grabbed a line and swung himself into the crowd, one leg out. He could feel the rain hitting him as he swung into each hollow man. Gordon grabbed Rosie from the crowd as he swung by and landed perfectly on both feet.

"Gangway!" Miss Sarah's battle cry could be heard for miles as she and Barry charged frying pan first into the fray.

Reaver smiled as he watched his servants act like pirates. "It makes me proud…" he said, pretending to wipe a tear for his eye. Dead Annie started growling and then let out a loud shriek which destroyed her hollow crew.

"Enough games, you sad excuse for a pirate! I place the black spot on you! No wisps, just swords!" Dead Annie lunged at Reaver, cutlass slicing the air sharply as he dodged each swipe.

"You've gotten slow, Annie!" he mocked as he backed himself toward his servants.

"Tough talk for a man with no sword to fight back with!" shouted Annie, lunging at him. With smooth grace, Reaver bent down and picked the dagger out of his boot.

He raised it just in time to block Dead Annie's next swipe. "That butter knife won't stop me!" she shouted. "I've sailed these seas for hundreds of years, waiting for the moment I could have my revenge on my former first mate!" she screamed as she slashed at Reaver, who dodged and blocked with inhuman grace.

"You would have just stood in my way. I had bigger ambitions than to be some deck hand!" he slashed at her with his dagger, cutting her skin.

She bled no blood. She only whaled loudly, shaking the boat violently. "When I found you, you were nothing but a farm boy who barely had enough gold to get drunk at the end of the night. I should have known you would betray me, as fast as you rose through the ranks!"

The two seemed to be fighting into forever, with the servants watching, huddled together as the icy rain continued to fall upon the ship. "Should we help him?" asked Miss Sarah.

"No, she'd kill us in a heartbeat or he'd kill us for getting in the way." said Barry.

Willa looked off the side of the ship and thought she saw a glimmer of light through the rain and fog. "Hey, what time is it?" she asked.

Barry fished his pocket watch out of his pocket and opened it. His eyes widened. "If the legend is true, which at this point there is no doubt in my mind that it is, then the battle should be ending soon."

Reaver deflected each hit with a maniacal smile and with one last trick, he pointed his gun and shot her hand off, still clenching her sword. "Still a tricky one, I see. But I don't need it to squeeze the life out of you!" she grabbed his throat with her remaining hand and pinned him to the mast, making him drop his dagger and gun. "You'll like being a part of my crew again, Reaver; your servants will enjoy it too. I'll regale them with the story of how you came to be called Reaver…" her grip tightened and her boney nails dug into his skin, his hands trying to pry her off.

He looked as if gasping to say something. "Speak louder, Reaver dear…tell your crew your last words are." She loosened the grip on his neck and he gasped loudly.

"You always…told me you enjoyed the sunrise…" he pointed to the horizon. Dead Annie looked behind herself and saw the grey sunlight piercing through her fog. With a terrifying shriek, Dead Annie lit up brightly and exploded in a cloud of gold dust as the sun dissipated the fog and rain.

Reaver fell to the deck and rubbed his neck as his servants ran to him. "Are you alright, Mr. Reaver?" Gordon asked, as he and Barry helped Reaver up.

"I'm fine…" he muttered, dusting himself off.

Beryl looked around at the chaos the hollow crew caused and readjusted her glasses. "Is she…I mean, has she…"

"Gone? Crossed over? Doubtful." answered Reaver, as he picked up his gun and dagger. Making his way below deck, Reaver looked only briefly at Barry and the others. "Hatch, help the servants clean up this mess. We should be arriving soon, and I don't want the good people of Bloodstone to get the wrong idea. When you're done, go and see if any deck hands survived. I need a drink…and a nap."

The servants sighed and watched Reaver disappear below deck. As Reaver walked to his room, he found Reavie shaking off hollow man dust and prancing happily toward him. "Well, you missed the fight up top, but I guess you can hold your own when push comes to shove." said Reaver, as he picked up the cat. "Care to share my bed with me? It looks like we could both use a nap…" Reaver closed the door to his room softly.

The ship finally came to port a few hours later. The men working on the docks saw the chaos that adorned the deck, and said nothing as the exhausted servants disembarked and made their way to the carriage waiting.

Reaver, carrying the cat, looked at the horizon and smiled. "Until we meet again…captain." He muttered to himself and followed his servants.

Two weeks came and went. Reaver and his servants were heading back to Lakeview Manor, but this time, on a train. Reaver sat in his private train car with the cat playing with a moth fluttering around a nearby lamp. "I wish I had your energy…but not your attention span." He said to the cat. He filled his pen and opened his journal.

"Alas, my dear journal, our demented family vacation has come to an end. After much begging from 'me hearty crew', I broke down and bought us some train tickets back to Bowerstone. A bit more expensive than sailing and I threatened to take it out of their pay, but I don't think the servants cared, as long as it meant not having to deal with the undead forces again. They are being good sports about having to sleep in the coach seats. I must admit, it was fun reliving my pirate days, but alas, those days are behind me now."

Reaver heard a small crash and looked up. The cat knocked over a chair in her pointless attempts to catch the moth. Reaver sighed happily and continued to write.

"The ritual, I am happy to report, went smoothly this year. Go to a brothel, make a few empty promises to a down on her luck whore, and things seem to just happen on their own. The seal always reappears when it is time for the ritual to happen again, and this year it came at a bad time. I hope next time we don't hit any snags. I wonder, though…I've sailed to Bloodstone each year for the ritual, but Dead Annie never appeared once to me. I wonder what coaxed her out. She was always on opportunist, even in life. One of her flaws. I assume she was just biding her time…she sure has plenty of it, now. I feel so rejuvenated, and the servants were quick with compliments the morning after the ritual was done."

Reaver leaned back and watched the scenery go by as the train passed through the dense forest. At night, the swamps and forests were a creepy reminder of who he used to be. The cat, having given up her pursuit, rested happily on Reaver's lap. With a smile, Reaver's eyes became heavy.

"I await our next battle, Captain…"

N'cha! Okie, so I lied about the muffins lol. Won't happen again, I promise. I had an idea, but I couldn't go anywhere with it. I kept stopping mid paragraph, so I scrapped it and just used the next story.

By the way, a water closet used to refer to a room with a toilet in it, but nowadays it's a slang term for a really small or dank room.

The legend I put in this story is actually from a short story I wrote (and lost *sad face*) a few years ago, which this chapter shares the name of. I still had my notes from the story, so I went from there. In the short story, from what I remember, two people hear of the story of a pirate named "Dead Annie" of whom they meet and have to fight, along with her zombie crew. I only have the notes, so I couldn't go by much. I just tweaked the legend a bit to make it fit haha. Not hard, give her a bone to pick (sorry) with Reaver and change her zombie crew to Hollow Men.

You know, I like this legend a lot. I might make it a stand-alone fan-fic, should the inspiration (and the rest of the notes from the short story) ever arise.

Sorry about the battle sequences being a bit uninspired, I'm not good at writing them, so I try not to include a lot of them in my stories. But apparently pirate lingo I am good at haha.

Next time: Cute stuff…lots of it. The next chapter might be short, but we'll see how it goes, right me hearties?

Don't forget to review! I appreciate all criticism, but prefer positive haha.

Tatty-bye, my friends!

Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead