The Mermaid of the White Lagoon

Andrew BloodDawn

"Cap'in, we're closin' in on land. Would ye like to settle 'ere for the night and continue our hunt in the morrow?" Asked Loom as he slowly stepped into the captain's chambers.

Sitting in a large red velvet chair made from ashwood and lined with silver decor, the young captain, who was only in his early 20s, lifted a expressionless gaze up at his first mate.

Andrew BloodDawn was his name, a third generation pirate captain and proof that not all of the Fourwind son's were abusive and heartless. But he was haunted, and so his heart was frozen in his inner sanctum of terrifying memories.

His eyes were dark brown, his skin dark and tanned up nicely from being out in the sun for hours at a time.

His face, as well as his torso were scarred from sword battles against other pirates and his hair, black as expensive velvet and just as soft to the touch, tossled to and frow on top of his head.

He sighed then nodded. "Very well, we've been out at sea for days and ye never know, we might find that rare mermaid that sailors so fubber about like hens in the rain."Replied Andrew, getting up from his chair and making his way out of his chambers.

"Tell the crew to prepare the anchor and harpoons, we may come across some valuable stock near the lagoons."

Loom smirked then went to command the crew to do as the captain wished.

Andrew stepped a foot across the threshold of his chambers, following with the rest of his lanky frame into the hot pacific sun.

Through squinted eyes, he spotted the island just about 10 miles away, large and green, creating a bowl with a 100 foot wide opening. Inside of the bowl was another island sitting alone and isolated.

Andrew stripped his outer coat off, the black leather was feeling too hot to wear. Underneath he wore a leather vest that sat atop a white button down.

His eyes fixed from the island to his crew, who were scattering around the ship, preparing for their stop.

Then, he caught the gaze of the young cabin boy, hauling buckets of water to prepare for deck washing. He always does the cleaning after they go ashore, that way the crew wouldn't be around to drag dirt around as he cleaned.

A small hum left Andrew's lips as he eyed the boy with a curious stare.

Jamie looked up at Andrew then quickly looked away. Everyone knew not to stare at Andrew for too long. It's said that if you do, he'll think it was a threat and he'd come after you in your sleep.

Oh chum chunks! I hope I didn't look at him too long.. The boy thought in a panic.

The boat creaked and moaned as the waves hit the sides, nothing but sweet music to Andrew and his crew.

His ship, the Devil's Harlot, was his pride and joy. Long and black with the body of a galeon and the sail style of the frigate. They were the color of blood and the image of a nude woman on a black flag waved proudly as a symbol of mockery to God and all his righteous followers.

The deck was solid black wood, shining and cold at all times. And below deck was the crew's chambers. Dark, cold rooms that were often the hellhole for those they take as their victims.

They were settled near the edge of the bowl on the outside, their ship was too wide to fit through the opening that led to the lagoon with an island in the middle.

"Drop the anchor!" Shouted the first mate, and so the crew did. And when they were done, they let down the walkway and began unloading their hunting equipment.

Andrew equipped himself with a long rifle, a pistol and his sword. You never know if there were any primitive residence on these kinds of islands.

One time, they settled in a large island and a bunch of natives attacked them. Andrew thought he'd never make it out alive, and the deep scar on his right cheek was his souvinir from that wonderful time.

Later on that day

"Is it me, or is the cabin boy singin' a tune of the Durian?" Said one of the crew members, staring up at the ship and the barely peeking blonde haired head of young Jamie as he sang.

"Atop of the cliff, I see them down there. The sea breeze so strong, it topples their hair. The Maiden of glory will sail to the shore, and the women and children cheer forever more."

The crew hissed underneath their breaths, growling with disdain at the boy's offensive song. The Maiden of glory was a war ship they destroyed years ago, and it seemed their little slave boy never forgot her war song.

"Ey boy! Shut yer singin'!" A deck hand shouted. "That stupid ship is nothin' but rubble! And all the crew, along with yer pathetic captain of a father are shark food!"

The Devil's harlot's crew laughed, filling the silent night with a booming noise.

"Hey!" A deep shout came from the top of the walkway.

Heavy boots thudding against wood as he walked down after pushing one of his crew members off of the railing and ignoring the fact that he fell 60 feet into the water. His eyes were dark and deep with bitterness. "Leave the lad alone, or else ye will hang in the freezer with our catch. Do ye all savvy?"

Andrew said, tilting his hat forward before taking it off and holding it against his stomach.

His crew looked up, wide eyed and fearful. Although there were some that were older than him, bigger than him and stronger than him, they were not match for his sadistic wits and quick swordsmanship.

There were many of times where members of his own crew tried to assassinate him, but none of them lived to see the light of day once their deed was found out.

"Aye, Captain!" They all said at the same time.