The mood had changed on the pirate ship as we left the fort at San Bernadino behind and headed for the open seas again. The adrenaline rush had passed and the crew settled in a calm, almost tense frame of mind. It took some getting used to the new vessel, it felt strange to us to be onboard something as alien as a British Man of War. She was barely a few months out of her home port of Liverpool but she handled well considering her immense size and bulk. It was definitely a departure from the stinking home comforts of our previous ship. The Captain had been very cagey about his master plan, only telling us that he aimed to sail to New Providence and raise hell there.
“But Captain,” Said St Michelle in disbelief, “That is the main English port in the Caribbean and she is heavily defended. All the pirates in these waters know to steer well clear of her.” Captain De La Roca just smiled and tapped his nose but said nothing further. He had a look of a madman about him, of one that was reaching for plan beyond even him. I was worried but I trusted his judgment; after all he had kept us alive so far.
Things had begun to change for me as well. It was like a part of me died back there in the black expanses of the fort’s catacombs and a monster, an indescribable demon came alive inside me. I craved the violence and drama of battle again, to feel the warm touch of crimson blood on my hands again. It was a strange feeling burning inside me considering I was never a violent person. We all grew up tough in my village and we could defend ourselves when danger lurked but we never sought out our enemies. But this was so different. This time I had the power over those who stood in my way. I did not have to cower in fear while the Romans marched down on us and tore everything I ever loved to shreds before my eyes. Never again to be that scared little girl again, never to let anyone ever have such power over me.
Never again.
The gauntlet hummed softly on my arm, its energy slowly seeping through my skin, leaving tiny red lay lines behind. I didn’t notice it at first but ever so surely the metal turned from steel blue to a shade of black. This was so much more than a piece of metal, I could swear it was feeling, mimicking my moods and emotions. The gauntlet was raging inside, mirroring my carnal craving for vengeance and retribution. I didn’t want to feed it but the voices inside my head kept shouting at me over and again.
“Do it. Why should they make you feel small and scared? They can’t stop you, nobody can. Do it Helena.”
I pushed the thought to the back of my mind and headed down to the galley. It was always a place where I could relax and get my mind in order again. I much preferred it to the raucous crew’s quarters in the belly of the ship. I busied myself in breaking down carcasses for beef stock for that evening’s supper, absentmindedly chopping onions and leaks before throwing them into the pot.
“Well, aren’t we just a little messed up bundle of contradictions hmm?” A familiar drawling voice drifted through the galley and I already knew who it was, even before looking up. Angrily, I slammed the knife down on the chopping block and turned to the demon. Larousse was busy making himself a sandwich, deftly balancing a long open French bread on his one arm while using his toes to catch and flip up an assortment of onion rings, cheese and slabs of bacon. I pushed the butter to the side as he went to reach for it.
“I thought I got rid of you.” I said testily.
“I’m like Herpes darling, I’m always around somewhere.” He took a massive bite of the sandwich before wiping the drool and mustard off his chin.
“What do you want?” I still did not trust the demon and I kept my eye on him constantly.
“Just looking in on my favorite little hell raiser and I’m here to give a bit of advice.” He belched and rubbed his stomach, he had obviously enjoyed the mid morning snack.
“I seriously don’t need yours or anyone else’s advice.” The anger was building up inside me but I kept it in check, slowly running my finger over the knife’s handle.
“Look kid, though I still have the short odds on you seeing your ass, you got some supporters down stairs. The Gargoyles have even started a fan club with t-shirts and everything. You got heart and spirit but…” His words trailed off as he bit his lip.
“But what?” My cold emerald eyes narrowed suspiciously, waiting for his response.
“Darling,” he sighed, picking his words very carefully. “You are taking it too far, all this bloodshed and mayhem; I’m a fan of your work for sure but this is too much. You’re going to a dark place that none of us should ever go to, this is not you.” It was the first sincere moment the demon ever had but I did not care. The dam wall finally broke and a torrent of words flowed out of me.
“What would you know about a dark place? Were you there when I lost every damn one I ever loved? They slaughtered my family before my eyes and made me watch every fucking moment of it! Do you know how it feels to see your mother’s throat cut by some godless Roman and watch her bleed out into the mud? I have nothing, nothing left!” Adelmar whined softly by my feet but I ignored him.
“Oh kid…” Larousse’s face dropped but I continued unabated.
“I never wanted anything of this, I never asked for it but I am stuck with it. So I do what is needed. If it means I have to kill to survive, then I will do it gladly you understand me? I don’t give a damn about Death, the bet, you or anyone else. It’s just me versus this screwed up world. So do me a favor, keep your advice and opinions to yourself and I will be just fine over here.”
The demon looked crestfallen and shook his head sadly. “I’ll always be around, even if you don’t want me. Once I take up a contract, I stick with it to the bitter end. Death would have my ass if I gave up on you. So like it or not, we are in this together but I can tell you kid, you have opened a door that should have stayed shut.” I grabbed the knife, ready to blast him again but Larousse was gone; disappeared into a tiny puff of smoke. I turned my head angrily back to the cooking pot next to me.
“Good riddance.” I thought to myself, chucking an onion with a splash into the pot. Adelmar sat up; head cocked and looked at me inquisitively.
“What do you want?” I took out my frustration on the pup when I shouldn’t have. But I was too angry to care about the effects of my words on others. Adelmar growled softly, turned his nose stoically away and wandered off to his sleeping mat by the fire. He was obviously less than impressed with me at the moment.
I didn’t notice it till much later on but the gauntlet on my arm turned from grey to midnight black. It was one with my darkness now and ready for war.
Far away in the realm of the Horsemen, the Lord of War sat back in thought. He had been listening in on the conversation between me and Larousse and he was not impressed. He unfolded a velvet cloth and picked up a vial of crimson red blood, running his rough fingers over the crystalline texture. His hand grasped the vial till he felt it shatter, the crystal shards cutting his flesh. War’s black blood mingled with the scarlet of the vial, bubbling and fizzing on the floor. The liquid solidified and slowly a dark shape formed before War’s eyes. It’s piercing screams echoed through the palace and it threw its head back in agony. Finally, it looked up with razor sharp blue eyes, balling its fists and standing tall.
He was human.
