Dive: Stucky

A Short Story: The Captain's Tale

A/N: Hey all you awesome readers! I had written out a little story explaining the captain's side of things and sort of his own backstory?? Well, I just thought I'd share it with all of you for the fun of it, so here you go!

Mist, mud, and salty ocean breezes was what he expected every morning on the docks of his hometown. The cold wisps of air that stung and rosed up all your edged features like the tip of your nose, cheekbones, and maybe even your ears. Your breath was clouded just like the thick fog that blanketed the still waters of the ocean, and the tethered boats creaked slightly as the bobbed up and down. Not a soul to share the dreary morning with, no other sounds disturbing the tranquility in the harbor except for a few scurrying rats.

Yes, the quiet life of a sailor was the life made just for him. And his name was John Martin.

His life belonged to the sea as long as he could remember. Being a boy of 19 years of age, adventure seemed to be calling his name from the distance horizon, and he had decided that he was off to sail the seas, climbing aboard a ship and never taking a second look back.

He learned the basics of sailing and seamanship from his companions aboard "The Star," a wretched piece of bilge not worth a penny. But he couldn't let his preferences keep him from the call of adventure, beckoning him and leading him further away from home, to fate.

It was on that voyage to a trading port about five-hundred miles south on a cargo freight that he learned about a group of mysterious creatures: Sirens. Every night, the drunken men would drag him around a lantern and tell blood-curdling stories of these savage beasts, luring sailors to their deaths with their terribly beautiful songs. No one could survive this lethal race, and they said the thought of one should send a shiver of fear down your spine.

After that telling, they all looked at him expectantly, as if he would just jump up and run away screaming to his barack. But instead, he was rather intrigued by the tale and leaned further in with more questions, much to the older men's surprise.

"How do you know when they're near?" John asked with interest. Perhaps this was the call he was hearing, the call to capture a beast and make a name for himself! "Has anyone ever caught one before?"

The other men guffawed at his ridiculous question, taking another round of beers. John looked around incredulously, not seeing the joke.

"Catch one, lad? You think you can just go fishin' and reel one in or somethin'?!" one of the oldest ones roared with hilarity, almost falling off the crate he was sitting on. "That's one brave soul right there!"

"But it's not a joke," John persisted, frowning slightly at their mockery. "If someone were to catch them, would they become legendary?"

"Pff, if you even survive such an idiotic conquest," said another man, further in the back.

Suddenly, the oldest of the bunch, an ancient man sitting in the farthest back corner spoke up for the first time since John had met him. "Ohh, it's possible alright."

The others quieted and leaned in with confused looks as John listened with full concentration on his words.

"I'm sure you all have heard of the siren nicknamed 'Poseidon' right?"

Everyone nodded except for John, whom the man seemed to be addressing personally rather than the group.

"No sir," John whispered in an almost reverent voice.

The old man chuckled dryly and turned his gaze towards the stars. "It was around fifty years ago..."

The other's relaxed as they prepared to hear a tale they had obviously heard many times before. John leaned forward still, yearning to hear this story, the answer to his questions, and quite possibly the kick-starter to his adventure, fame, and possibly glory.