A Pirates Honor [mxm]

[2] Killing the Dog

The creaking noises of the ships underbelly combined with the loud crying of a lad a few men away from me woke me up from my heavenly slumber. "Feck stop your wailing!" I yelled throwing all my strength in the threat. The violent movement of my body and a well-timed wave however made me unintentionally bang my poor head against the wooden support beam behind me. I groaned letting my head lean limply against my left bicep. The urge to once again cast up my accounts washed over me and I hung my head defeated as I fought the instinct. Despair slowly crawled up my spine, like the nails of a woman scratching my back during intercourse.

I had lost count of how long we had been rotting away in the ships belly, this was like being swallowed by a whale and being consumed alive by its intestines. Atleast I was still alive, not like mah neighbour. My arms were sore from their immobile position and it felt like all the blood had drained from them. My ribs stuck out like feckin fish bones. My mouth tasted sour from the daily filthy piss water they gave us to drink, it held a disgusting aftertaste which I had a vague suspicion of was blended out urine. They were literally taking the piss at us. Not to name the meals, it was not enough, not even nearly enough for all of us to survive. Ofcurse that was the purpose. Unwillingly I retched as the permanent stink of hundreds of dying men navigated its way into my bloody nose. There was no question that at least a dozen of us had gone to meet their maker. Another wave pushed the stinking lifeless body of the haggard man next to me onto my sore shoulder, he had cut the rope a few days ago. Or maybe hours. I wasn't sure.

I cast a tired glance at his yellowish taunt face that was leaning against my shoulder, with a sick interest I started studying the dead man's face in the darkness. There was nothing else to do here either way. He had bushy brown eyebrows I noticed that reminded me of thick rope, his cheeks were hollow and had a few hairs growing out here and there. Almost like whiskers. His nose was long and excruciatingly thin. His dead eyes were watery and stared vacantly at my crotch. Disgusting. Movement caught my eye and I grunted in distaste turning away as I noticed that the rats had started gnawing his toes. Filthy little bastards them rats.

The following wave pushed the man of me onto the man on his other side. I heard a small sob from the other man as the dead man touched him. Small teeth bit at my toes, gnawing carefully almost like they were testing the waters. Them little bastards. I wasn't dead yet. With annoyance and a lot of pain, mostly pain, I wiggled my toes making the little flesh diggers escape to their nooks and crannies. Filthy animals. None the less we didn't differ much from them, like a pest we destroy society loot ships and kill men who have families awaiting their return. Nah wonder we are hunted down like animals by tha silver fish. Their annual pirate hunts had been tha childhood stories of mah younger pipsqueak days I chuckled darkly how ironic that ma childhood heroes would lead me to Davy Jones Locker. Frowning I attempted to remember tha song we children learned about the silver fish heroic deeds.

Come all ye young fellows that follow the sea,

Hear her wails in agony, rid her waters of sunken ships,

Ye will return with victory, in honour you will be remembered for eternity,

So gun tha man down, gun tha man down feed tha scum to the fish

Tha sacrifice will leave our sea at peace

I groaned as I realized I barely remembered the first verse, their hunts had grown out to become a tradition and had cost many men their lives. I recall for every rotten fish a soldier got he would be awarded. Sickening, its all sickening. "Blimey me, ya Isherwood aren't ya?!" I clenched mah teeth as I opened me eyes staring at a murky bearded figure opposite me. "Hahaha ya've lots yer wits haven't ya? Singing that song." "Feck of". "Aye aye ya told me that a sunset ago aswell ya have really gone bockers ey?" I remained silent closing my eyes. "I saw thee at Crack Jenny's tea cup, she backstabbed ya didn't she? Afua." "Don't speak tha wenches name." I cursed. The man guwaffed. "Tha wench? Tha wench fed us to tha fish all because of ya! Couldn't ya have dropped ya pants like a good lil whore and presented ya butt to Sammy? He would've saved ya." I snickered. "Jealous? He wouldn't have saved ya even ya tried."