dreamnotfound / gream • one shot / short story book

mystic seas

hbnngngngnn :)

-Warnings: description of drowning, blood-

The ship rocked back and forth on the calm seas, it's few crew members sharing drinks over a good dinner.

Clay, the ship's captain, stood at the very front of the forecastle deck, watching the waves roll against the boat as the sun started to lower. He could hear joyful laughter from his crew on the deck, the tapping of boat shoes on wood as they playfully danced.

The reason for celebration was from the great heist of a larger pirate ship, they had a man on the inside who helped them map out the weaker parts of the other ship, allowing them to get in and out of the boat with more riches.

Clay's blade glowed orange from the soft reflection of the sun, he lifted his hand, blocking the light from his eyes to look upon the one place he called home: the sea.

The ocean was beautiful at this hour, the minutes right before the sun dipped below the horizon were always Clay's favorite to witness.

"Oi, Clay!" Nick, his first mate, called up to him. Clay turned his attention to his very drunk friend. "Why don't you quit being such a swab and come drink with us?"

"Sorry Nicky," Clay shrugged with a boisterous laugh. "I'm not in the mood to get shitfaced with you scallywags anyways."

Nick waved him off, bringing the glass bottle of who knows what to his lips as he turned back around. Clay took a deep breath before following, might as well congratulate your crew for doing well. He hear cheering from the dining area as he opened the door, Bad, Skeppy, A6D all singing the words to a sea shanty.

For a bunch of ragtag friends, they made hella good pirates.

The night calmed down and Clay paced his Captain's quarters, his crew was long asleep, the echoes of their laughter and cheers now silent amongst the hull of the ship.

It had to have been past midnight, judging by where the moon was at in the sky. It was a beautifully clear night, meaning Clay would rather sit on the edge of the 'Dreamboat' that the crew dubbed 'Dream.'

His small crew was the world to him. They somehow managed to be successful in their adventures with their inevitably small numbers. The ship rocked amongst the waves, letting the tide carry it further and further away from any land masses.

Clay could see what looked like dark rocks in the distance, the moon barely illuminating the ocean enough to give the rocks a tiny glint. He heard a beautiful melody begin in his ears.

It was distant at first, the kind of distant that reminded him of a song playing from far away, the echoes of the tune bouncing off of objects until it fell upon listening ears.

Clay let the singing fill his feelings of emptiness with joy, listening closer and closer as he let the creatures sing. He knew there would be sirens that lived close to those jagged rocks, the last time he'd encountered a siren, he'd gained a large scar that covered a good portion of his face, covered by the white mask he wore.

The siren song was far enough away that Clay was able to avoid being lulled into the ocean to his death. He knew the sirens knew there was a ship nearby, or else they wouldn't be singing.

Clay was surprised, however, when he'd heard the scratching of the hull hitting a large rock. He inwardly cringed, hearing the schreeeeeeech of wood against stone. Clay managed to lean over the side to assess whatever damage he could in the midnight light, not noticing that the siren song was getting louder and louder.

Images fogged his head of the life he wished he had. Enough riches to get him by, his friends by his side, someone snuggled close to him, planting kisses to his face. The sea picked up, waves rocking the boat more intensely now, on the horizon a nasty wall of clouds began to block the moon, flashes of lightning lit up his surroundings. His feet were moving on their own, the sweet sweet melody of a male voice ringing in his ears, figuratively turning his brain to mush.