Black Flag

For the Assassins Creed competition. As a gamer girl I was really excited to write for this competition. It's not completely based on the game but I did my best with the picture and had some fun.
Basically a short dark pirate adventure :)


1. Black Flag

Gun smoke and ash fills my lungs but I do not cough, I breathe it in and savour the pain. It makes me stronger, my wits sharper and my reflex quicker. The sky is smothered in blackened clouds; dry lightning cracks across the skies and as I hear the heavy footsteps inching ever closer, I count. One. Two. Three. And then there he is, a simple shipman unknowing that his slurred words mumbled drunkenly while taking a swig from a musty bottle of rum, will be his last. One shot. That’s all it took. I drag his limp body to the starboard side and push him overboard. Through the roar of the thunder no one can hear the splash and gurgling of the sea sucking him up and consuming him into oblivion. I hear shouts from below deck of drunken celebration; they think they have won. They always think they have won.

I look into the distance. I see the familiar dark silhouette, ghosted in the thick fog, patiently waiting. I pull my hood further over my head and wipe rain from my face. I take a small round sphere from my bag and inspect it carefully. A heavy iron ball it would seem much like a cannon ball but its harmless nature should not be underestimated. I know not to drop it. I don’t fear death, we’re good friends. I bring him souls and he in return grants me favour. But I’m cautious all the same. I place the deceptive sphere by the stone cannons and make my way to the rigging. I draw my sword and holding it high above my head, I pierce it into the helm. A loud creak screeches from within the ship and it starts to veer off course. Angered and confused faces of bewildered crewman followed by their Captain, storm through the cabin door and surround the deck. I stay low, weaving in and out, reflexes on point and I run them through with my sword. I pull the pistol from its holster and as one hand drives my sword through the heart of a crewman, the other hand shoots a bullet through the skull of the first mate. I make my way through the chaos to the side of the ship and as the crew try frantically to steer the ship away from the rocks, I slash my way through them and stand by the edge of the deck. I feel my hood fall and reveal my scarred face. The Captain turns to face me and shouts with his sword drawn.
“Who do you sail under?!” His face contorts with anger and I step onto the banister of the ship. I smile darkly.
Suddenly through the thick fog, the silhouette of the Ghost ship breaks through the mist like a rock smashing through glass and I look at the Captain standing before me. I pull my hood back over my head, placing my sword back in its sheath.

“I sail under the Black Flag.” I then turn and jump overboard into the fog and onto the deck of the Ghost ship. My Ship. “Hoist the Colours!” I order and a hell raising roar erupts. We look to the ship across us and even through the fog we can see the sheer terror on the faces of the crew; chaos had already broken and we could hear them frantically loading their cannons, scurrying around like mice around a mousetrap. I raise my hand and all falls silent on the Ghost ship. Patiently, we wait.

A shot rings out from their ship and is followed by bewildered cries of panic; the deceptive sphere had done its job, blowing back the cannons into the men who fired them, taking out all hope of escape or chance of fighting back.
The rain is pouring heavily now. They try to run. They try to turn their ship but the damage I caused to the helm is too great and they shout in frustrated distress. Some try to release the lifeboats and some jump overboard but the sea is on our side. The sea is cruel and heartless and allies with the Pirates who sail her, bringing her lives so that we might live.
Then silence falls.

They know they are going to die and their ashen faces struck with horror and a sense of fate, wait for us. Thick mist spreads across their ship, making it impossible to see. But we can. I give the signal and like shadows we slip through the fog, silently boarding their vessel. We stay low and crawl around the crew who are standing in frozen panic, barely breathing. Like eels we slip around them unnoticed and I climb the rigging. I draw my pistol from my belt and let out a single shot. All at once, chaos returns like an old friend. I watch as bodies fall around me and my men slaughter the ones who stole from us. As the battle continues, I slink into the cabin and search for the wooden box I have not seen for so long. I turn the place upside down until I find a cupboard. Locked. I blast the lock open and remove the box concealed within. Tucking it away, I make my way back onto deck. Most of the crew are dead. Shrapnel sprays the air as grenades are thrown in a frantic frenzy and this is just what I need to make my final stand. I stand on deck and slowly remove my hood. I take my pistol and hold it in the air above my head. I fire a single shot and all fall silent. Crews, both mine and theirs become still and face me. I lower my arm so the gun is pointing straight at the Captain’s head. There is no fear in his eyes as he looks in mine. He’s toyed with death many a time; he’s brought many like us to the watery depths with no remorse. It’s his turn.

I fire. And it’s over.

I signal and in unison my men and I turn to the starboard side.
“Hoods up!” I order and we pull our hoods, our masks, our identities over our heads and jump overboard into the fog and onto the deck of our Ghost ship. By now their ship has veered so far off course there is no way of turning around; the sharp rocks come into sight, piercing through the waves like shark dorsal fins. I stand at the helm of my ship and we change our course. Some more of their men jump overboard but they are swallowed by their own fear and perish. Their ship makes contact and the rocks slice through it like a sword through flesh.
The remaining crew stand tall as they go down with their ship; they are not cowards.
Part of the crew, part of the ship.
As they sink, the last thing they see is our Ghost ship, colours hoisted high, disappearing into the fog, my crew and I staring out at them. Faces hidden, swords drawn, hoods up.
And if you are ever sailing in dangerous waters, concealing that which belongs to me, you seal your own fate; we are unstoppable and we will catch you for no-one can escape those who sail under the Blag Flag.











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