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Food for Something Else; DNR
Topic Started: Thu Jun 2, 2016 9:22 pm (263 Views)
Javin
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Another storm, another sea…it was the same story that it always was. Darkness reigned, and sweet release lay just beyond the crosshatching of the ceiling door. The irony of his situation did not elude him, for it eluded no other. Like the others, he had tried to get into the crates of foodstuffs many times; like the others, he had failed every time. At least above, he had more than merely the smell of the sea. He watched and listened as the seasons changed one day and night at a time, despair slowly setting in. He had been a slave before; his fate now was only marginally better.

The rats were few and far between. They were timid things at first, yet their insatiable curiosity could not be held in check. He had been reviled by them at first, appalled at the disgusting state of them. But as time wore on, he came to know only the sorrowful companionship of these chittering beasts. He came to know them well. Months had passed…possibly years. Surely it would have been better to put him out of his misery; why feed a man that did no work? The captain’s ways were a mystery, yet slowly, conversations with rats that spoke a language he did not brought the prisoner a kind of understanding.

The captain was a cruel lord - nothing more; nothing less.

Tawny eyes looked up through the holes formed by the grate above his head. His incessant companions had revealed the presence of others to him in this hold, yet they rarely spoke and even more rarely moved. They were prisoners, just as he was. Some were little more than children, barely into their teens; others were as old as the captain himself and even older. Still others were somewhere in the middle between those two extremes. There must have been at least a score in that hold, each one having lost hope a long time before he had come. Try as they might, the rats had not been able to open the crates, either. Yet somehow, the rats had found food…they could move in ways that the men could not.

There was not a single girl or woman among the prisoners. Of that, he was certain. It was a great and terrible omen to bring a woman aboard a ship. Bad things happened when that occurred…really bad things. At least, that’s what the captain and his officers had always proclaimed. That’s why all of his crew were men and boys - part of the reason. The other reason was far more dubious among the masses, yet everyone aboard knew what happened in the captain’s quarters on certain nights. The captain wasn’t the only one, but he specifically sought out certain kinds of men. He was one of those, yet he had never been given that so-called “honour”.

He did not mind the idea of it. He had engaged in relations with other crew members himself. But that was another time, one far removed from his present predicament. His relations of the past gave him no comfort now. Only the rats could accomplish that, and only barely. Other prisoners had been brought in after him as well, all bearing the same hopeful looks upon their faces. Yet they could not open the crates, either. Neither could they escape. Three had perished in the attempt - two by the crew and one when the heavy grate had fallen upon his throat.

This new man, though…he was different. He heard the talk of the men aboard, carried upon the wind. It seemed that this one had volunteered. He had been grateful to come here. How could that be? What would drive a man to desire imprisonment? What would cause a man to want to be placed in a hold, half-starved, deprived of all light and warmth save that small amount which filtered through the grate above? It made no sense to him. But on the other hand, where the captain was concerned, there was little sense to be had to begin with.

The man sat next to him now, eyeing him. He looked back, his gaunt features healthier still than those of the man seated there. The man resembled a corpse, his ashen flesh illuminated oddly by the grate. There almost seemed to be a certain glow to him when the moon was full, as though he was…more than he appeared. He spoke mostly gibberish, nonsense that could not be interpreted. But every once in a great while, he uttered a few words that made sense.

From what he could gather, the man was - or had once been - a fighter of some noteworthy merit. He moved often, unchained, to interact with the others. There was always movement from the others then, but the sounds were quickly stifled. Now the man looked at him, grinning. His hair was long and wild, with more tangles and less definition than a more civilized man would have had - even than him. This was a man who lived in dungeons and prisons, not merely some prisoner. He whispered harshly now, most of his words garbled, but a few came through.

He was offering him something…escape. But how? How could this man hope to escape? Did he even need to escape? He seemed to be here of his own volition, and yet…why would he offer escape to another if that was the case? He did not understand, but the man went on to say something about changing. He spoke of a secret - a dark one that would change a man into something else. He didn’t have any idea what the man was talking about. What sort of secret could change someone into something other than what he already was? At first, he did not listen - not really.

But the man persisted. Something in his tone was belied by the grin. It was truly frightening, that grin: menacing and chilling, with no mirth behind it at all, yet there was a sparkle in the eyes of the man. They were blue eyes, he noticed now. He liked blue eyes. They were rich and full, like the eyes of a new-born infant, and held a life that made no sense for them to hold. Perhaps the man did know a way…

“I’m listening, old man,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse from disuse.

The man’s grin broadened. What he was told next was astonishing; what followed, even more so.

It seemed that this companion was worth a thousand rats.
Edited by Javin, Fri Oct 14, 2016 7:31 am.
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