Rip Tide: A Twilight Fanfiction

Chapter Eight: Gods and Monsters

Rajah's POV

The storm raged with a vengeance, growling like an angry beast. Most people took shelter from storms, cowering before the might of the sky. To them, storms meant destruction and death. To someone who admired their power, it was freedom, reckless abandon. Listening to the howling wind and ravenous thunder, I endured the harsh rain with a smile. 

What a magnificent force of nature, it was.

For a moment, I tore my attention from the sky to Robert. His body, wrapped in a thick quilt, was nestled at the bottom of the six-foot-deep grave I dug. The rain had quickly turned it into a mud-pit. I chuckled to myself. Look at me, digging a damned grave for a man who nearly blew my head off.

My red eyes looked toward the cabin, where Melanie was showering, leaving all the dirty work to me. Eh, well, in all fairness I had volunteered for the job. She had refused to shower, adamant about our good friend receiving a proper burial. I despised the smell of the ocean; it clung to her skin and golden tresses. So, I grabbed a shovel, if only to be rid of that salty stench. Nothing to thank me for.

Working quickly, I shoveled the thick mud back into the hole. Rest in peace, you poor, drunken bastard. 

Tossing the shovel away, I headed back toward the cabin when something made me pause. Possessed by a sadistic phantom, I turned and passed through the cluster of woods to reach the shore. Monstrous waves threw themselves against the jagged rocks. The ocean convulsed and lunged toward the sky like a deranged creature.

While the wind and rain assaulted my stony skin, my red eyes glazed over, staring out to sea. Time seemed to rewind, dragging me back to the night my mortal life ended.

Liquid fire burned my lungs. I coughed, spewing salt water from my mouth as I dragged myself from the merciless waves. My fingers dug deep into the sand and I gasped for breath. When I had enough air, I rolled over onto my back and sobbed.

Sounds tore from my throat, the kind of sounds a wounded animal made. There was nothing wrong with my body aside from severe dehydration. It was my heart that bled. It was my spirit that was broken. It was my soul that writhed in anguish.

The events replayed in my mind, forcing me to relive the pain. I saw long, curved swords gleaming in the moonlight, clutched in brutish hands. There had been wicked, sadistic laughter as my sister begged for her life. Her fair blood spilled into the sea, when the pirates grew bored with her weeping. I was tied to the mast, forced to watch. She was barely of marrying age. 

The pirates saved me for last.

Cutting me free of the ropes, they forced me to my knees. I was broken, defeated, and too weakened by grief to fight. A sword was rested on the nape of my neck and I had closed my eyes, awaiting death. The gods weren't that merciful. Before the blade could end my life, a loud rumble announced the sudden attack from the heavens. A storm unleashed its power upon us. Violent waves crashed the ship against rocks, destroying it.

I was cast into the sea. Somehow, I fought the mighty waves and dragged myself onto the shore, where I collapsed. Lying there, I wailed and cursed the cruel gods. 

They had stolen my mother when I was just a fifteen-year-old boy; our father had abandoned us all to pursue a life in the New World. I had cared for my sister Ayanna, doing my best to keep her alive as we survived on the streets of India. I thought we had been blessed when I found a boat abandoned on the shore near our village. The fish I caught kept us fed. Life had looked brighter, for a while—until I became tangled up with pirates.