Captain Dracula

Chapter 1- The Myths of Captain Dracula

On the misty island of Bournemouth lived a small village. Normally invisible to King Lawrence. But this microscopic village has earned itself a name and a reputation of importing and exporting rum, illegally.

The Mayor, Carlisle Jamesworth, of the island had the ingenious supposition that people from the mainland are anything but willing to pay tax on rum, wine and larger and so the he's scheming, underground 'business' started thirty five long years ago.

Ever since then, the King's men have stalked any suspicious looking ships and crew members on and around the Bournemouth.

But this tale does not exist solely on the growing, illegal alcohol trade and a small secluded island. It is also about the Mayor Carlisle's beautiful daughter, Anika Jamesworth.

She has been the beauty and light of this small village for eighteen years, sadly making up for the loss of her equally angelic mother, Vivian Jamesworth. A travesty and emotional wound that left a gash in Bournemouth's short history.

They share uncanny looks. A pale complexion to match their equally fair hair. Feline, azure eyes with a piercing gaze to slice through any façade. Both stood at a petite height, no higher than the Mayor's broad, hunched shoulders and naturally slim.

But anyway, back to the tale at hand.

Anika walked out of the village school. That was it. That was the final time she would ever walk out of those gates.

She had finally graduated, making her peers and father proud at long last.

This was something to celebrate, and it was time.

Tall, rusting iron railings surrounded the schools grounds. They were unlocked, a heavy padlock hanging sadly around a crooked bar in the railings, no longer serving a purpose. Swarms of freshly freed adolescents charged out, shoving the heavy gates aside and barely noticing the pained screech of metal against metal, too busy screaming themselves blue in the face.

Chatter and wails filled the air throughout the centre of Bournemouth's town, teenagers marching their worn, handmade shoes down the cobbled paths, eager to get home and ready for the fast approaching night ahead. 

Tradition has had it for as long as the school had been standing, that every leaving class would congregate at the beach, near the shipping docks, and celebrate with anything they could get their hands on.

Anika was no exception, even being the Mayor's daughter wouldn't stop her. If anything it was a help more than a hindrance, as he had direct access to the mainland's delivery supply. If a few barrels of rum were to go missing, I'm sure there would be no questions asked.

Although with Anika being little more than the size she was before hitting puberty, some assistance may be required, and there was no one she relied on more than her beloved Michael, or Mike for short, as he preferred it. Michael was only ever used in severe circumstances.

However, Mike wasn't the only partner in crime Anika was blessed to have. Natasha Greene, the daughter of one of several farmers on the island had been a companion since birth. Sharing the same birthdays, and their mother's having shared the same maternity ward made them near enough siblings. A bond supposedly indestructible.

It would be unkind and unprofessional to forget Rachael Seeder, a girl that had attended Bournemouth school with Anika since they had started as children. Rachael was a peculiar soul. Somewhat slacking in brain cells, but simultaneously wise beyond her years. The Seeder family had taken residence in Bournemouth after their cattle, land and farm had been torched to the ground by King Laurence's soldiers. The Seeders had been suspected of harboring illegal wine in their cellar and selling it under the cover of their mundane agricultural lifestyle, and so they moved to Bournemouth, for their own safety. Being brought up with kind hearts, Anika and Natasha had taken the mainland girl under their wing.