Specs of sunset peaked through the thick clouds, vivid black claiming the turbulent mounds. The sky rumbled, almost in time with the gargling waves. The storm had been gaining momentum since a few hours ago, however their captain said it wouldn’t be a problem to sail through. Drops of icy liquid began to sob from the heavens, each droplet pattering as it hit the deck below. The young sailer wrapped his arms around himself, clutching at the firm fabric of his navel uniform. The quiver in his eyes wasn’t from the dropping temperature, but the sight before him. In the distance, the clouds were caught in a rage of sorts. A dark void swirling around the last splotches of red cast from the sun, not unlike a drop of crimson blood being overcome by a stain of ink.


They were only a small merchant vessel. Their journey was only meant to be a week off the coast of Newhaven, but they had been held back by weather for a few days now. Their captain refused to hold back this time, and the sailor was grown enough, having been across many an ocean, to know by the sky when a storm was too much to wether. His captain had become too foolish in his old age now, and very well about to get them all killed. He started back across the deck, as the blood sank below the waves, the cascade of darkness over taking the manic sky once and for all.


“Captain! I prey you’ll pardon me as I speak out of turn.” The sailor proclaimed, barging through the cabin door and into the candle lit room. Four men stood around a table, mulling over the likes of a scroll. “We may be behind schedule, however it’s clear The Monica won’t last through it. Her build isn’t meant to survive this weather!” He called across the room, two of the other men grabbing ahold on him. Try as they may to force him out the door, their footing was no match for the sudden derailment of the ship.


It tipped Portside, bounding back just as quickly, glasses, chests and books displacing themselves from the tables and shelves of the cabin. “What in Hell?!” Exclaimed the Gunner on deck. He stood at the bow of the ship, taking in the the sky as he clung to the rail. The sailor pulled himself across the floor in response to the call, trying to regain footing as the echoing crack of lighting rippled around the vessel.


The captain’s other officers and tradesmen were cowering within the cabin, leaving the crew to battle the storm alone. The sailor wasn’t much for sentimentality, but he knew what loyalty and duty was. He wouldn’t let the captain cower among the rest, not when they faced their maker. Unhinging his grasp on a crooked floorboard, he slid backward as the bow of the ship tipped upward over the waves. The sea was writhing and churning beneath them, hard slaps of ocean banging against the sides, the thud cascading through the bottom decks.


The sailor’s back slammed against the side of a bookshelf, glimpsing as the captain fit the scroll into a tub, sealing the top, and pulling the thing over his chest. A sort of revelation set over the old man, his eyes twinging in no longer fear, but expectance. The ship shook feverishly, a wave crashing hard enough against the window across the back of the captain’s cabin to shatter the glass. The sailor took his chance, and lunged for his captain as the water rushed in, the man yelling in protest, as he was hauled toward the deck.


Torrential rain attacked the ship in sheets, a caterwauling wind berating the mast. The two men froze in their stead, eyes widening at the sight before them. It wasn’t the storm the Gunner was howling over, but the flock of ravens circling over head. They swooped down through the masts, their beaks slicing through the sails.


It was too boisterous to imaging, their gaze unable to look away, even as the sky spat merciless bolts of lightening around them, leaving imprints on the back of their eyes. The crewman all scrambled to get a hold of ropes, to regain control over the clattering and slapping metal pulleys, being thrown against the sails with each gust of wind. One man began to shoot at the birds, another plunging an axe in their direction. The weapon lodged in an unlucky creature, as it fell to the deck, not far from the sailor.

His eyes widened, as he witnessed the haunting white film over the bird’s own orbs, as a distinct black sludge began to ooze from were the blade penetrated instead of blood. The sailor whipped his head up toward the flock again, their unholy squawks playing off the cracks of lightning. An icy blanket wrapped around the sailor’s body, the rain beading over his face as he peered into the black void above them, separated by sporadic sparks of cannon fire among the clouds.


Hands grasped his face, pulling his attention back to reality, his captain looking into his eyes. A look too sober and firm for a crazy old man, and more knowing then the likes of the young sailor. As if a whole other man had taken root in his captain’s body. “Listen to me Boy. There is something much greater at stake then our own lives. You must promise me you’ll guard this with your life!” He bellowed over the storm, his voice so assertive the sailor could only nod in response.


“But Captain–!” Cutting him off, the old man pulled the tub off his back, slinging the strap over the sailor’s body so the tub rested across his chest.


“This is all our life line, you hear me?” The sailor nodded again, wrapping his arms around the main mast at his captain’s next instruction. His lips shivered in the frozen air, eyes following the old man unrelentingly as he climbed to the wheel, taking on the post himself. At this, the sailor’s vision began to blur through the flashes of light and spray of the sea, bringing him in and out of consciousness like the beating of a heart.


Crack.


Lightning struck near the ship.


Boom.


Thunder shook the vessel.


Crack.


The upper mast snapped.


Boom.


It collapsed over the sailor’s body.
 

Hello again! This is the second teaser which was a lot of fun to write, and actually hints at a couple very important things, but those are a secret for later. I hope you like it!