Ghosts in the Pumpkin Soup

Chapter 24: Rebirth

The brig named Chilliwick crashed against the waves of a restless sea. Captain Uther Puck was well on his way to Port Bothwell with the special cargo, but something kept gnawing at the back of his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong. Captain Puck had smuggled countless occult items to the Colonies, and every run went smoothly, so what was so different this time? He sprung from his cabin and began making rounds. The sun was setting, casting an orange haze across the horizon. Captain Uther Puck's crew were singing their usual shanties as they manned their stations, and he couldn't help humming along with them despite the terrible feeling that was blossoming within. The first mate and the navigator were doing a fine job sailing the brig, as usual, nothing to worry about there.

Captain Uther Puck made his way down to the belly of the Chilliwick. The cargo appeared to be a regular shipment of sugar to the average peruser, but the true shipment laid hidden amongst the various barrels and crates. He popped open an inconspicuous crate and pulled out a small ornate box. Captain Uther Puck ran his hand across it. The box was made of smooth black wood, ordained with intricate brass designs that made his eyes weary. The contents of this box were a secret to him, and he liked to keep it that way. The captain was paid a high price to quell his curiosity. Knowing the cargo was safe, he placed it back where he plucked it from and sealed the crate.

Suddenly a thunderous boom rocked the brig, and it sent Captain Uther Puck onto all fours. Were they being attacked? Pirates? The cries of his crew overwhelmed the crashing waves. He made his way back up to the deck, expecting a fight, but what he saw made his throat drop into his stomach. A big man, no—a monster, stood at the center of the deck. Bodies of the brave were toppled around it, drenched in their own blood, some in pieces. His crew. The less brave cowered in their places. Some debated jumping overboard to let the sea decide their fates. Some did. Fear and anger swelled inside Captain Uther Puck, and with trembling hands, he drew his pistol.

The monster locked its awful eyes with the captain and dropped the severed arm in its hand. It was a humanoid shape, but the monster appeared to bend and warp aimlessly. Its body looked like it was made of molten lava. Captain Uther Puck pulled the trigger, and the pistol roared in his hand. The ball disintegrated on the thing's chest. It approached him. Captain Uther Puck drew another pistol from his belt and fired. It continued to advance. The captain drew his cutlass as the monster towered over him. He thrust his sword into the belly of the thing. It laughed. A burning pain erupted in his hand, and he reeled back in pain. Captain Uther Puck's hand no longer had skin. If he was to die this day, it would be on his feet. The captain rose, nursing his skinless hand.

The monster's voice rocked the brig. It liked the tenacity of the crew. Most would have jumped ship at the sight of it. The monster wanted something on Captain Uther Puck's vessel, and his mind immediately fell to the precious cargo he was carrying. The monster wanted to make a deal; however, it felt more like the thing was toying with its food. It wanted to test the faithfulness of his remaining crew. The monster would kill everyone on board or spare them if one of the captain's own would cut him down. No one moved for a long moment. Captain Uther Puck felt both tremendous pride and tremendous fear. His crew was a loyal lot; they would all rather die and go down with the ship than kill their own captain.

Pride was replaced with betrayal as a horrible piercing pain shot into his back and through his stomach. Captain Uther Puck turned to look upon the face of his murderer. There stood young William, his cutlass dripping with his captain's blood. The fact that it was William hurt Captain Uther Puck more than the intestines spilling from his gut. William was like the son he never had, and his last sight was the fear-stricken across William's pale face. Captain Uther Puck fell that day. The monster laughed and congratulated William for his stupidity. It systematically tore apart the crew one by one, making William watch in absolute terror. After the monster's massacre, it approached William and informed him that it would be taking the cargo now. It slowly sank its serrated finger into William's stomach and tossed the petrified sack of meat into the raging water.

When William opened his eyes, he drifted alone across a dark sea. He was lucky enough to find a plank from his ship after the monster destroyed it. A dismal moon floated lifelessly in the sky, showering him in a pale light. If William didn't die from his wound, the sharks would follow the trail of blood. William's final thoughts rested on his pregnant wife. Utter shock took hold when William gasped for air. He was on land, alive. His stomach was in shambles. There wasn't much time before he would succumb to the blood loss. Running on pure adrenaline and willpower, William made his way up the beach and found an old dirt road. He stumbled his way over the bend and found a city in the distance. He could see his wife again, but William had to find a doctor first.

William passed an abandoned farmhouse, he thought about looking for medicine inside, but he didn't want to waste any time getting to the city. Along the old road, behind a rotted fence that separated the road and a cornfield, a scarecrow loomed on its post. William's knees buckled from under him. Sorrow took hold when William realized he wasn't going to make it. But he refused to give up. William had to see his wife again. He felt deep regret for what he did to his captain. Uther was like a father to him, but William didn't want to die. He would do anything to get home to his wife. And he betrayed his captain to do so, but the monster didn't stick to his word; he should have known better. William crawled—more like dragged himself across the dirt, leaving a long trail of his own blood behind him. He made it to the scarecrow before his arms gave out. His vision blurred as tears fell. William rolled over on his back, struggling to breathe, fighting the encroaching darkness. The scarecrow towered over him like it was looking at him.

In his delirium, William heard the scarecrow talk, like the ragged strawman was speaking in his mind. With burning eyes in its withered pumpkin head, the scarecrow promised William a chance for revenge. He only had to accept the scarecrow's gift. William guessed he was hallucinating in his final moment, but raw hatred formed within the very core of his being. How dare he be robbed from the love of his life? William drew his last breath and accepted the scarecrow's gift.