Wicked Sea

Chapter 3

Besse paused when she heard the strange new voice.

It was soothing, yet deep and rough, making them nearly irresistible to the ears.

But Besse was not being tricked by the newcomer. The Sea God was angry and wanted her life, though she loved the Sea God, she was not going to make it easy.

For anyone.

Pulling the hammer back with her thumb, Besse aimed the pistol at the arm and pulled the trigger.

Sparks flew and a burst of fire erupted from the barrel. The force of it made Besse miss the arm by several inches.

Her face paled as she scrambled for more gun powder in her Captain's coat, but her chains kept her from searching all his pockets and reaching for the cutlass as the arm slowly dragged her dead Captain away from her.

She looked up to see someone past the doorway.

A fog had formed, encasing the person and making it hard to see their face.

"Who are ye?" Besse whispered, scared to find out the answer.

Two arms slithered into the room, each one going to her chains and wrapping around the rusted metal.

The man took a step forward, barely enough for her to see past his shoes.

She studied them, knowing she can learn a lot from man's shoes.

They were shiny and... different from the type of shoes she saw on land. She was used to scuffed-up boots covered in shit or pirates just walking around barefoot. The shoes the man had on looked lavish and untouched, with polished leather and laces.

Besse swallowed harshly before glaring at the man.

"Who are ye?" She asked louder and bolder.

She raised her chin and stared at the man, willing him to answer.

"Why are you giving me such a hard look? You are the one who called me, love."

Besse shivered at the nickname, unsure if it was because she was cold or from the thrill of being called something other than lass, or cunt.

"I-wha? I never called ye," Besse furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

The man tsked as he stepped closer, revealing clothes that she had never seen before.

He wore long black pants, a black button up shirt, and a black jacket. Compared to the men she was used to seeing on land and on ship, his outfit could only confirm what she already figured out.

He was a rich snob that had the means to take down a pirate ship.

Though the octopus arms are not explained.

Besse frowned at the thought.

The man put his hands in his pockets and chuckled.

"Oh you called me many times, love. You even call me when you're writhing in your bed, a wet mess in your sheets, praying to me to help bring you to a pleasurable end."

Besse still could not see his face, but she knew he was smiling evilly.

When his words finally registered in her head, she blushed and squeezed her legs shut.

"I did none such thing," she whispered as she looked away.

The man sighed, stepping forward through the door frame and in front of Besse. He lowered himself so he was face to face with her, waiting for her to turn her head.

Besse reluctantly looked at him. Her breath caught in her throat.

He was otherworldly.

His long, black hair was carefully slicked back, not a hair out of place, even with the raging storm up above. His chiseled jaw had a shadow of a beard, yet still looked so clean. His cheek bones seemed so sharp they could cut glass.