The Walkers

Chapter 22

Remember how I said that I charged into the onslaught? That was not my brightest idea. Everyone is fighting. There's chaos everywhere. I see pirates fighting against each other. I even see friendly... fire? Is it called friendly fire is someone stabs your crew mate with a sword? Wouldn't that be called friendly stabbing? I'm diverging from the topic again. Oops! Almost got stabbed there!

I have been battling for what it seems to be hours. Cutting. Culling. Slashing. Parrying. Stabbing. Shooting. Name it and I have done it. It's incredible how I feel nothing about the amount of people that I have killed and somewhat it seems to be endless. Isn't it like time for the main boss to come out and play? Hey! Come out and play!

"Black Mustache, are ye a coward who hides beneath the deck while your crew mates die a dog's death?" I heard Captain Morrison taunting with a howl-like voice. He does sound pretty angry in my opinion. I would be too. Oops! Another stab attempt.

The silence that answered back was enough proof that this Moose-tashe was hiding somewhere. But I hoped that the waves of destruction... ahem. The waves of sailors just stopped. Just how many of these pipsqueaks can you fit in a galleon? What's this? Is this a case of bending the reality? Ah. I want to go home now. The main problem is that I don't know what home is nor where my home is. Darkness please embrace me once more.

"Come out! Don't ye feel nothing for yer dead sailors? Yer a sea scum! Worse than a sea cucumber!" Captain Morrison taunted once more. Wait. Why did he used an analogy for a sea cucumber? That was so lame. Not that I will retort to it. I want to keep my tongue. Yes sir.

"Rowdy, aren't ye? Ye taunt like the scurvy that infects mine skin. Ye speak like ye know too much when I've been sailing for as much as ye. Sally forth, Morrison, for this shall become yer tomb as I steal yer ship and sink ye to the David Jones's locker." A reply finally came from the poop deck. It had a heavy French accent and was pleasant to the ears. I heard the muffled steps of a man who limped as he walked over here. 

Oh. Black Mustache, I presume? He was missing his left leg, which was replaced by a peg. And his face was adorned with the most perfect, glossy and springy mustache that I have ever seen. I wonder how he cares for that one. Now I'm a bit jealous that my face lacks facial hair. Was it because I was Audrey before? Nay. I think there's something more behind all of this. I hope that I someday will be able to clear this mystery.

"Ah. Ha. Ha. Ye finally showed up, Mustache!" Captain Morrison replied with a haughty laughter. Please stop it. It's coming out creepy. "So now ye have them balls to fight. I see. Too bad." He scoffed as he threw his rapier to the deck and kicked it in my direction. "For yer foe will be'im"

"Eh?" Eh? What the hell? I don't want to fight that man! Why me though?! Why not any of the other sailors?! What did I do?! Oh. I did insult him before, right? Oh. I think I am doomed.

"Fine. Show me what ye got, lad." And thus I was forced to fight for my life. What kind of shitty game is this? I rather enjoy the veil of the darkness again.