"I have my wings to fly away." ~ Michael Tolcher
The following retro contains violence and sexual content. You're warned! *Insert Advisory Stamp here* P.S. If something does not sound logical, this was over three-hundred years ago in the Outsider's timeline. P.P.S. Yes, there are some plotholes. Deal with it.
The Holidays came and went. Johnathan was never one to celebrate in the first place. Plus, with now the ability to see Renne whenever she pleases makes her all the happier. These past few evenings, though, she has been sleeping more often than usual--which is never. Gaston has allowed her to stay in the other guard's office--since he is currently off helping the City while now Gaston lives in the Houses.
The Life-Stone, though so close to its rightful owner, still kept a good grip onto Johnathan--until the proper exchange has been done. The voices faded a bit; but instead of telling the stories, they were now asking for them. Hence all the sleeping. This one in particular took the dreaming a bit too far.
Upon the floor, underneath the vacant desk, the sleeping Johnathan let the light-brown hair of hers fall like curtains in front of her face as she huddled up like a ball under the fog-grey weather-torn cloak. The Life-Stone beat with breath and alertness in her hand as Johnathan held it close to her head.
__________________________________________________ _________________
A few evenings after Christmas. The Port-Town and Harbor of Eeds had a habit of laying quiet in the nights. But not this night.
Most of the ships were on fire, along with half of the buildings in the Port-Town. Screaming and cries echoed within the orange-red light. Men and women fighting back, but in the end; the gangs of pirates were winning. Women and young boys becoming their slave-laborers and the girls and young women becoming their victims to the sexual hunger they been craving while onboard the fleet-ship The Missing Link.
Before the dawn hit, three men raided into a small, barricaded house. The husband of the house shot off his rifle, but only one of the three men more pissed. The husband was protecting his wife and only child that laid hidden in the kitchen, but in the end died protecting his women with multiple sword-wounds to the neck, stomach and legs. The wife then came out of the hiding place with also a rifle and was able to shoot off one of the men's arm. Taking ahold of the wife, they started beating her--until they heard the smallest whimpers of tears coming from the kitchen cabinet. Opening it up, all three men's eyes lit up like it was Christmas all over again.
In the cabinet was a young teenager, looking no older than fifteen. The boys then thought of a brilliant idea to pluck this young petal in front of the wife. But it was too late, the wife--while they were plotting this perfect pluck--laid and choked in her own pool of blood. And that was the straw that broke the donkey's back. Being thrown onto the floor, the young girl's shirt was ripped open; exposing those still-ripening breasts to the three men. Lusts filled their eyes, seeing that now that the young girl was squirming out; which only made them crave for it even more. But it was then that a bone-chilling shrill came from this young girl. Luckily, they were used to the screams by now and this one made them more wired up for her. But the end result was certainly not what they expected.
This shrill caught the attention of one thing--and the young girl was not expecting it do so. Coming out from the kitchen cabinet unnoticed was a iron-cast frying pan. Rising itself to the very top of the ceiling with the handle pointing downwards, it then let itself fall with such speed on one of the men that the handle went straight into his head; causing a serious puncture down and in the middle of the brain--killing him instantly. Which caused the other two direct their attention to the now dead-man, and it also gave the young girl time to break herself free from their grasp.
While the young girl was squirming free, the iron-cast also ripped itself free from the now dead-man and swung with such force to a second man against his face and up against his face; having the bridge of his nose shove up into the brain; killing him within two minutes. And before the broken-face man fell, the young girl finally broke free and ran towards the door, doing her best to keep the ripped shirt wrapped around her and to get a good balance. But the last man caught her at her feet, bringing her down right before the doorknob was in reach. And that was when the frying pan returned. Doing nearly the same thing with the first man, but instead of the head; the handle went straight down into the man's heart. The frying pan pulled out from the injury and brought along a part of the heart itself; making the last man dead.
Now, the young girl curled up in pure fear and shock; as if also ready to die some horrible way by a possessed frying pan. But when the pan gently touched down to the ground close to her head; the tear-sopping fear-of-her-life young girl blinked as she watched the frying pan. Was this thing speaking to her...in her head??
"Fear not, young Tapole. We heard you and we came to help."
"I? All fer I?"
This confused the young girl. The iron-cast frying pan, then continued on explaining that the shrill woke him up from his sleep and he was only pissed off at the folks who was the reason to the shrill. The talking calmed the young girl down and eased her tears and fear. By the time it was daylight, from what the young girl could see through the boarded-but-broken windows, half of the Port-Town was in ruins. Changing her shirt to where it was not ripped--and yet it was a dark-crimson-red color--she kept a hold of the frying pan. Looking back to her dead parents for the last time, she blinked but did not shed another tear. And out did the young girl go into the morning light.
During the daytime, she snuck and hid in homes that were already hit, but not burnt yet. She got used to the stench of rotting corpses and days-old soils. In the night, though. That's when the young girl and this unusual frying pan did their best. While the men raided the houses, the young girl and the frying pan did their best to save the day for that family. This repeated happened for two nights. During the day, she hid; but overheard that their captain was dead due to the ghosts overwhelming him with guilt. The remaining men were saying that to all of their fallen comrades. That the ghosts of the Port-Town were killing them one by one. Before the dawn of the third day, the last twenty or so men planted themselves in a house next door to the one that they were raiding. The young girl came and tried to save the day, but was caught and the frying pan seized. The three men that caught her brought her over to the other house where the rest of the men were.
"This be our ghosts?"
The three men who caught the young girl tied her down to a table. All of them were looking down at her with lusts once again filling their eyes. The one who spoke first poked his face down, having the young girl feel his breath on her face
"What be yer name, pretty doll?"
"Johnathan Tapole."
She heard some of the men snickering quietly; but let man continue to speak.
"Do ya fear death, little Johnathan?"
"I only fear the fact that I am still li'ing."
With no other words or laughter from the twenty men, the only one who was speaking chopped off the ropes. And with that, all twenty men kneeled down around the table. Which only made the young girl confused more than ever. Slowly sitting up, the only man who spoke slowly stood up.
"Code numba nineteen. Any Outsider who kills the current captain becomes captain. And girl ya may be, but we keep to most of the codes and that one we have."
__________________________________________________ _______
The vacant office was not so vacant anymore. Similar to what Renne has been doing, vague images of a half-burning Port-Town and the quiet oceans were seen. Also a vague scent of wood burning, ocean-waters...and for an odd reason or another, the vague scent of bacon filled the room. But the sleeping Johnathan did not move from her position as only the ever beating Life-Stone glowed for a small second which then let the frog-charm upon Johnathan's neck glow in-sync with the Life-Stone.
