Imelda, All Warrior

Capítulo Siete

                                                    Capítulo Siete

“El futuro pertenece a los pocos de nosotros que todavía están dispuestos a ensuciarnos las manos.

          -The future belongs to the few of us still willing to get our hands dirty.-

                                                                            ― Roland Tiangco

          I tapped my foot; occasionally, I found myself pacing to and from where I was standing -- the rope was manipulated by the seas right before my empty eyes. It would rub itself, left to right, on the wood of the ledge like a snake ready to bite its prey. Its erratic movements kept me from pulling him up. If I didn’t know better, it would seem like I was that rope, swaying everywhere, keeping that man alive on the other end. However, I was the predator waiting for my victim to surrender through suffering. Suffering got most people to talk, but not Valentino Mota. His silence and loyalty to whoever brought him to this point was admirable, but foolish. It brought him to me, the last person he would ever want to get to know, much less get on the bad side of.

          The seas muffled his cries. I preferred it that way. I could tell he was screaming from under us, holding his breath to live, squirming under his ties; his way to fight me. His resistance only added the few inches, making my cheeks hurt to my grin. Every second that passed was like a caress. I relished as the smell of salt and copper blended in the waters. I bent over the ledge, observing the beautiful torment.

          The red tint in the water -- blood was coating the surface like an oil layer. My eyes spotted a pod of darkness. I followed it. I could make out his body from up here. The movement of the pod swayed with the rope.

          Valentino.

          The corals deep in the water shined bright like knives ready to pierce into the flesh of its victim, hungry for more of that sweet juice that flowed in his veins.

          While observing, I could hear the comments my crew made behind me.

          “Do you think he’s dead?”

          His chances of coming out alive are like counting all the fish in the sea.”

          I smirked. They were right. If a pirate were to survive the keel hauling, then they’d be a very, very lucky man.

          “La Capitan no tiene alma.”

          My grin faded. I turned around slowly, scoping out the source of that voice and walked towards the Pyrate who made the last comment.

          “What did you just say, senorita? Who doesn’t have a soul?” I smiled as big as my cheeks would allow.

          She stilled as soon as I got into her face. She looked away, “Perdon, Capitán. It was not in my position to say that.”

          “Oh! So, now you want forgiveness? Though, you disrespected me in front of my crew not moments ago.” My voice got higher, making sure everyone could hear my authority. I took a step towards her.

          She took a step back, thinking carefully about the next words she was about to say, “S-si. I swear under La Marcelina de la Luz, I will not make any comments regarding your decisions, Zea...” she ended the sentence with a gurgle. She clutched her neck before falling onto the floor. She shook with the momentum, breathing abnormally.