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John knew that today revenge on Flint would not be his. If Flint died then the crew would be captured, so he stood by and defended the life of the man he swore that one day he must kill. Today was not a day for revenge, for today John was a pirate. Each man knew that same fact that John had discovered. This battle was not to be lost. For if they lose that day each and every one of the Walrus’ crew would be sold to the British Navy at £100 a head.
The French soldiers were taking the Walrus. Flint fought alone on the poop deck against two French Marines, who were attacking him at the same time. He turned and quickly and knelt while at the same time cutting one of his opponent’s hamstrings. The man fell flat on his back screaming. Flint swiftly stood and silenced the man by driving his sword through the injured man’s chest. Not a second later he drew his pistol, and without hesitation, shot the second Marine directly in the face. The dead man fell lifelessly into the water. Flint now stood alone, and covered in blood.
John looked across the deck of the Walrus and saw that all the pirate crew there was either dead or dying. The French soldiers smelled victory and stood triumphant. Long John limped painfully up to the chase cannons on the bow. Hands had left them loaded with shot. John swung one gun around until it was aimed at the Walrus’ deck, then fired. The small pellets of shot scattered and ripped through flesh, living and dead. He turned the second gun and fired on the Krystal Anne thereby clearing her deck.
The remainder of the Walrus’ crew emerged from the hold and attacked the French with a new found vigor. Cutting slashing and hacking their way through the French Blood hunters, Flint would have no more of the attack. He trampled over the bodies that littered the Walrus’ decks. “Enough!” he yelled. He then grabbed a rope that was used by the French to board the Walrus and swung over to the Krystal Anne. It was a sight to behold, Flint’s face was a mask of blood, and looked to be the Devil himself as he stormed across the deck of the Krystal Anne. He had no interest in the danger in which he placed himself for he had but one goal, and that was the French captain standing behind the helm observing, and directing, the attack. Flint sprinted across the deck and ran up the steps. The French Captain stepped back in fear, and Flint struck the man full in the face, breaking the Frenchman’s nose, and possibly knocking out a few teeth. The old man fell to his knees holding is face as the blood poured freely between his fingers. Flint stepped up behind the man grabbing a handful of his gray hair pulling the man’s head full back. The French Captain gasped quickly for he knew what was coming. “Adieu” Flint whispered into the man’s ear, and then he drew a blade across the man’s throat cutting it deeply from ear to ear. The Old captain coughed for the last time and sprayed blood across the deck. The spray was followed by a crimson cascade that soaked his shirt front and the deck at his knees. Flint let him drop face down where he would move no more. The pirate then pulled a small hatchet from his belt and cut the Frenchman’s head from his shoulders.
Flint yelled and laughed in murderous ecstasy. He was indeed a heathen pirate god refusing to surrender to the attack of these mere mortals. He would crush them at will as he did all that opposed him. Flint lifted the head and held it high. “Kill’em all boys!” Flint screamed. He walked over to a decorative flag post mounted on the deck. He cut the post off at mid staff and let the flag fall into the water. Flint then lifted the captain’s head and drove it down hard onto the newly formed pike; he then turned and returned to the Walrus. Seeing this, the attacking force soon dropped their weapons in fear. Soon after plundering the Krystal Anne of all its valuables, the soldiers were marched down into the hold and locked there. Dead soldiers and pirates alike were loaded onto the deck of the French ship. Allyrdarcy was ordered to light the shop on fire, and it was set adrift to burn with 15 men screaming in the hold.
Posted in treasure hunting
Tagged british navy, crew, Day, Flint, Good, john, man, Pirate, prequel, revenge, STORY, Suggestions, taste, Today, treasure island, walrus
Define a Good Day
When I wake up to see your beautiful face,
I can tell it’s already a good day.
When I hear your laugh,
I can swear my heart speeds.
When you look at me and you think I don’t see,
I feel like I’ve been lifted up so high, I can’t breathe.
Your breathtaking eyes,
your pouty sighs,
and oh you know,
how I love to look at you.
How I love to breathe you in.
How I love just to be near you.
You’re a treasure I can’t give up.
I need you so I can breathe.
You’re a symphony for a lullaby,
You’re a beauty no one lets pass ‘em by.
I need you so, please don’t ever leave.
Your breathtaking eyes,
your pouty sighs,
and oh you know,
how I love to be with you.
How your voice makes me lose my mind,
babe you are my addiction,
without restrictions.
I would never seek to hurt you,
when all I could do is love you.
If I got told to pass you by.
I would rather die.
I need you like I need a heart to beat.
I need you like I need oxygen to breathe.
Two lovers,
one book.
Holding onto eachother,
just for another look.
You can’t pass ‘em by.
Night so shy,
when I lay down to sleep,
and I catch you glimpse at me,
the rest of the day so endless,
fades away.
And all we are,
all we become,
is you and me.
Tell me if you like! C= I wrote this for an English teacher, usually all my poems are dark and morbid–this was a challenge.
-MP