Song of Storms [A mermaid/pirate story]
liv2bafighter
  • Reads 36
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 12
  • Time 1h 27m
  • Reads 36
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 12
  • Time 1h 27m
liv2bafighter
Ongoing, First published Apr 29, 2022
1700sactionatlantisbetrayalbritianfantasyfemaleprotagonistgreekgodshistorymermaidpirateromancesirenvillainvillainturnedhero
Those without the will to continue are welcomed by the sea. State-turned-thugs fill their sunken stomachs by plundering and pilfering. The Spur Storm is an infamous vessel on the waves. A haven for the lost. Manned by Captain Noire Leathergut, the once quiet life she knew is about to change as an old friend raises their sail against her.

Please don't copy my work, this has been through multiple drafts before posting.
All Rights Reserved
1700sactionatlantisbetrayalbritianfantasyfemaleprotagonistgreekgodshistorymermaidpirateromancesirenvillainvillainturnedhero
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12 parts

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Slide 1 of 10
The Ballads of The Skeleton Crew cover
𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓶 cover
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The Ballads of The Skeleton Crew

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The boy had never been scourged by dread, not really, untouched still of startling agony to become his reality. He spotted the imposing cliffside meaning to change that by mere accident, kept in defiant remembrance still of this heavenly music descended upon Earth from Heaven, magnificent, majestic and entrancing, this blue ship which had came last night to conjure mystery and great brilliance vibrating with splendor and glory born, like summer sunshine brought unto gloomy night, unlike anything ever heard of. He paused in thought to look at what was dangling from these rocketed walls, instilled immediately by mortal agony. What encountered him there was awful, horrific, spun from his nightmare to turn to atrocious truth. They left a message for him, these strangers, a message for all mankind. All the people from the town were nailed on the colossal rock with obsidian spikes the size of fists, hidden in the darkness as horror always lurked there within. Blood, everywhere. The spikes ripped skin open, tore their bodies apart to let it be a grotesque image, the self-portrait of Death itself. Stiff pale limbs, grossly tangled together, a myriad of heads decorating empty space. A few mutilated legs and arms lay motionless on the bottom of it, of the mere terror, the waves had yet to reach and clean the crime scene, crimson rocks and red sand carnation furthermore. The details swam and blurred his view. He was thankful, for a glimpse sufficed a lifetime. When the dark ship came, it didn't only warn the people of the Destruction following behind, they carried it themselves, bestowing it willingly and with intent, purpose, unknown and arbitrary as it may seem regardless. People rumored among their crowds that they were in fact the cause, the real Bringer of Death. The Harbingers of Cruelty. The Black Squad, Side of Doom. Known perhaps better by their most famous name, the Skeleton Crew. _ updated irregularly, because life is hard

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