Ashikaga was tasked with eradication of the pirate threat. The Daimyo looked upon his men, weak and afraid, wide-eyed in the face of pirate-rage. He knew he must set an example. He rushed into the melee, and slashed the flesh of a burly pirate, even before his Katana had fully cleared its scabbard. The ugly brute fell to the sand as Ashikaga’s second in command stomped on his throat. The men rallied. Hands, an arm, ears and bits of flesh littered the sand, and Ashikaga was filled with pride as his Elite proved themselves and showed honor to their Daimyo.
Posts Tagged ‘pirate’
Tags: 100 word story, Adam Francis Smith, attack, blood, creative writing, daimyo, death, Death in Space, Feudal Japan, flash fiction, microfiction, pirate, scrawl brawl, short story, soldiers, sword, warrior
Tags: Battle, Captain, creative writing, Duel, flash fiction, grape shot, John King, piracy, pirate, short story
Shipwreck. Barbados. Rudder splintered o’er the shoals. Keel cracked n’ bleedin’ water.
Royal Navy’s colors close behind.
Me cutlass be out, carvin’ the scuttling crew.
Nick, ye mutinying bastard. I’ll be in gaol so long as you’ll be in hell.
The screaming turns ye.
“Avast, Thom, you bilge-rat” says ye, drawing steel.
Grape-shots burst the deck around us. This confusion of sky and sea and bone.
Your blade is a butt-end, which ye drop o’erboard.
I jump smoking gaps between planks. Ye swing a belaying pin, which I lop your hand off for.
Next goes your head.
Tags: drowning, piracy, pirate, shipwreck
I stand against the mast of our wrecked ship, tied to the tide.
She’d surrendered the battle, called me the “subjugator of all who ride the waves.”
I escaped the San Juan prison with the booty, sailing for the soft green meadows of home.
Then the tide turned.
Was it worse losing the treasure, or losing it to a woman who calls herself a pirate?
No matter now, for yonder she breaks the horizon; white sails and yellow hair a flyin’.
My bloody wounds call the great finned monsters, and the tide is rising.
The tide is, the tide, the …
Tags: 100 word story, Captain, creative writing, flash fiction, piracy, pirate, sail, scrawl brawl, ship, shipwreck, short story
“Mind the jib!” Urgot the One-Eyed bellowed from the watchtower, a telescope in one hand and the guardrail in the other. “The chase be on!”
His crew stomped the deck, curved blades cutting salty air as they whooped and hollered. The dark body of their victim came clearer into view with each passing moment, lying heavy in the sea with her belly full of gold.
“She’s taken anchor!” he cried, triumphant, “Prepare to boa—“
The figurehead screamed as Urgot the One-Eyed was thrown from his perch, the hull of his ship crushed by land.
“Shoulda used mah good eye!”
Tags: Captain, creative writing, microfiction, Moby Dick, pirate, ship, short story, whale
I knew why they’d come. Albino skin makes me a target. I’m twice the size of others of my kind. It makes me a challenge.
A nasty scar, stretched along his face and down his torso. Greying temples beset his dark eyes. Lunacy behind those eyes. I had seen men like him before.
Steel pierced flesh. My flesh. …
Thrashing my massive fluke, I broke free, destroying their craft. I tore off the leg of the scarred man, swallowing it whole.
His screams echoed through Big Blue for miles.
Doubtful I’ll see him again.
Tags: Battle, blood, Buccaneer, Captain, creative writing, Duel, flash fiction, Joshua Begley, microfiction, piracy, pirate, scrawl brawl, short story, sword
There. Richard saw it, the key to victory. War erupted around him as his crew fought the mutineers, but his attention stayed fixed on his first mate.
“You’re too gray, too weak to be captain anymore, Blood.”
Richard smiled and concentrated on his footing. The ship pitched and yawed on the waves. Blood and body parts rolled on the deck. One false step and it was all over.
The first mate went into his pattern, two feints and a slash. Richard stepped into the slash and ran the mutineer through.
“Blood by name, blood by deed, Captain.”
“Aye,” Richard said.
Tags: Battle, blood, Buccaneer, creative writing, flash fiction, microfiction, Naomi Butterfield, piracy, pirate, scrawl brawl, sea
“So calling me the ball and chain rings true!”
McGrath bellowed his anguish. “Why, Mary?”
Her cutlass sang into its sheath. “I’m a better leader than you and you know it. You stopped listening, McGrath!”
He lunged forward, but the shackle held and he fell.
She knelt. “To the plank? Or would you prefer I made this quick?” He made a grab for his knife. She had it faster, opened his jugular, his gurgled expiration.
“Quick, then.” She palmed his eyes closed. “Him spat from the sea, his salt to return. Ashes to silt.” She sniffed. “I’ll miss ya, Love.”
Tags: Battle, Blackbeard, blood, Buccaneer, creative writing, Duel, Errol Flynn, flash fiction, microfiction, piracy, pirate, short story, swashbuckler, sword
“Die, villain, die! Die by my trusty buccaneering blade! HA! HA! HA! Lost your head, huh? Ha! Ha! Ha! Now YOU, Blackbeard, scum of the Spanish Main. Swish! Swish! Ha! Ha! Lost your beard, huh? Now your toupee! Ha, ha. One swish. Blacky, dear Blacky, thy slow antique broadsword down stroke matches not my lightning Damascus steel beauty booty. Now, Blacky, prepare thy self for the devil’s realm. With a refrain I forget I– THRUST HOME! Damn. So-o-o … YOU, thee, thou art THE JOLLY DODGER! Off with thy mask, Jolly. Off with it! Zounds! Errol Flynn!”
Tags: atoll, blood, cannibalism, Captain, creative writing, flash fiction, gambling, island, Marooned, microfiction, piracy, pirate, scrawl brawl, sea, ship, short story, Vincent Crampton
“Cheats!” Cap’n bellowed, throwing our dice overboard. “I’ll give ye a game o’ chance!”
Bad loser. That scurvy scoundrel marooned us four atop this coral atoll. The gallows woulda been mercy. Nary a shipbiscuit to share between us.
We ate up the crabs n snails n Slushy’s pet monkey.
Ate Slushy next. Poxy bastard lasted two days. Spoiled in the hot sun.
Us last three played rock, scissors, paper—winner take all. No gambling this time. My rock found Mick’s head. My scissors, Gummo’s throat.
My paper, I wrote my last story on it, n stuck it in this bottle.
Tags: Battle, blood, concubine, creative writing, flash fiction, microfiction, Naomi Butterfield, piracy, pirate, sea, ship, short story
Three days pitched into the bowels of this vessel, nibbling bread, her dress was shredded but her corset was intact. She waited. When he came, she smiled, her eyes a liquid black. She held up her hands in surrender, her rings glinting light. He grabbed her roughly. She leapt to him, wrapped her legs around his hips and kissing him, clipped her rings into the razored wire stashed in her corset’s boning. A silver flash passed his vision then bit into his throat, bleeding his surprise down both their chests. She landed on her feet. “I am no man’s booty.”