"Welcome to your room," the man, a man by the name of Bloodworth Barnes--the other pirates called him Barney--ushered the inventor forward.
"Oh," Zeraph said slowly. "Thanks..."
The room in question was... small at the very least. It consisted of cell bars on every side, inside of the other cell. The entire "room" wasn't much bigger than a bathroom stall.
He could sit down, but good luck to even trying to lay down.
The man shoved him against the bars, locked the cell door behind him and chuckled. "Don't worry. We do it to everyone. All of us had to go through initiation."
Initiation.
Fantastic.
Most of the other pirates he had seen were tall giants. The shortest easily could look him in the eyes.
The tallest had a good three feet on him.
He had no chance of escape.
It felt like hours--it probably was hours--before anyone came down.
A decorated man with his hands tucked behind his back and another pirate with a tray of what might've been some sort of food.
A mysterious goop-like substance.
"You'll notice we haven't taken anything from you," the captain stated, standing in front of the bars to look down at his captive. "Care to take a guess?"
"Not particularly, no," Zeraph replied. He leaned back against the back wall, arms crossed over his chest. "I mean, I'm inventor. I don't exactly have riches galore."
"Correct," the captain mused, chuckling softly. "So, the next question I pose... why are you here of all people?"
The cook took a spoon and held the substance through the bars. Zeraph lifted one hand, turning the spoon away. "I'm not hungry."
"You don't get a choice," the captain laughed heartily before reaching through the bars to grip the inventor's neck, comfortably. "This comes once a day. You skip it, you go hungry. You don't get to skip the first day, understood?"
The man, just to prove a point, squeezed slightly. Zeraph tore at his thick fingers, his teeth clenched. "Got--"
The minute he opened his mouth the cook shoved the spoon in.
The captain rolled his eyes before releasing the inventor as he coughed out. "Back to my prior question. You're not exactly... rich. So why you?"
Zeraph hardly moved, still trying to get the gritty taste of who knew what out of his mouth. It was stuck in the back of his throat like some over-seasoned mud.
It wasn't tasteless, unfortunately. Heavily seasoned with an array of bland spices, which probably gave it the gritty texture.
"Why?" Zeraph finally choked out. "Why did... why does it taste like that?"
The captain frowned. "What?"
"I can't ... I can't even un-taste it," his nose crinkled. "Anyways... blah blah. Inventor. Rich."
"You invent thing," he said slowly. "The others below will be arguing far too much to even try and chasing us. If they do, it'll be too late. The ransom? Well, that will be our payment to them to keep you in our company! You'll be a new employee!"
"She--wait," Zeraph paused, thinking slowly. "You think she hired me?"
The cook offered another spoonful of seasoned soup. If it was soup.
YOU ARE READING
Chasing Stars
Ficción GeneralWhen an inventor messes up in his original kingdom and flees for safety, he discovers the world--the galaxy he has been living in isn't what he thought it was. He decides to embark on a quest to find the original ruler of the galaxy while uncovering...