The Writers Voice
The Pirate - Part One
The ship slowly rocked beneath the pirate. The movement, however, didn’t bother him; he’d long since gotten his sea legs. He looked out at the wide blue sea around him. The sun was slowly lowering behind the crashing waves. The bright colors in the sky were brilliant oranges and pinks.
Raising a biscuit to his lips, he glanced down to examine it. He noticed the many weevils crawling their way around in it. There were too many to pick out, and it didn’t matter anyway, he’d grown used to the taste and it didn’t bother him in the least. Taking a bite, he could feel them on his tongue. At least it was better then having no food at all, they’d run out of food many times before. They’d had to eat anything and everything they could find, mainly rodents and leather.
John Cooper raised his spyglass up to his eye and peered out at the ship ahead of them. It was moving rapidly; they would have to travel quickly if they wanted to catch it. Tugging at his short dark beard, he anxiously wondered if they wouldn’t be able to go any faster. Hearing a noise behind him, he spun to face the intruder. He shook his dark uneven shoulder length hair out of his face and saw that it was only a short stocky pyrate. Martin was a rather young pyrate, only in his mid twenties - but older then John who was only eighteen. Most of the pyrates didn’t care about their age, they didn’t keep track, but John did.
“The chase is making full sail,” John murmured. “This one’s a clipper.” Martin nodded in agreement. John fingered the bandanna in his hair, which was there to keep his hair from falling in his eyes, although it didn’t work well. Something rubbed against his legs. Scowling, he looked down at the small purring beast. “Who let this cursed thing up here? En’t it s’posed to be down below deck, mate?” They kept cats to eat all the rats that lived everywhere, eating their precious food and leaving their droppings everywhere.
“Aye, matey, aye it is. It just wanted a bit o’ fresh air, it did,” Martin replied with a smile. “Ain’t it passed yer bedtime, lad?”
“Nay, get outta here, ye be distractin’ me from me work, ye scurvy dog,” John replied in a joking voice.
“Aye aye, sir, me thinks I’ll splice the mainbrace.”
John turned back to the sea and continued to look out at the ship which was becoming smaller and smaller by the minute. They’d never be able to catch up.
As the sky got darker, John’s eyes began to droop. He was getting tired and with good reason too; he’d stayed up most the night before. A sudden noise jerked him awake; he stood up straight and looked around. It was the sound of swords clanging. It wasn’t unusual for them to be practicing, but people were trying to get some shuteye. Something was wrong, he was sure of it. Looking out to sea, he saw the outline of a ship. It was too dark to see it clearly but he was sure it was there. Without a second thought, he raced toward the noise, his cutlass unsheathed.
There were pyrates all around, pyrates he’d never seen before. Mercilessly killing his crew, though most of the crew was still asleep. John whipped his sword out toward a pyrate about to kill one of the men from his crew just as another pyrate was beginning to attack him. Someone’s sword sliced across his back. Another man jumped out from behind him; he curled his arm around John’s neck, holding a dagger to it.
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