Fan Fiction ❯ A Deadly Gambit ❯ Chapter 8

1

Ghost Ship Revisited

 

Dante sat on a large sea ship headed across the North Atlantic bound for a small town in Ireland east of Manchester. He stared off in to the endless green water, the wind in the sails blowing his white hair to one side. Trish slept quietly on his shoulder and he listened to here soft rhythmic breathing. This soothed him into a sort of lull in which he was not fully awake nor was he entirely asleep. He basked in his euphoria for an immeasurable period of time contemplating if things could get much better. He sat listening to the waves crash around him, moving while still staying motionless, with the one person he loved more in the world so close. He realized that there was no place he'd rather be than with her. He turned to look at her sleeping face and found her eyes open she was gazing up at him with a look in her eyes the relayed the same feelings that Dante had in his heart.

"I love you. You know that Trish?" Dante cooed caressing her cheek.

"I know Dante. The feeling is mutual." Trish responded quietly. Dante would have preferred a more intimate response, however, he was to deeply in love with her to care. He also was painfully aware of the fact that Trish was a Demon and nearly incapable of human emotion.

(No! She cried! That makes her just as human as I am! Devils never cry. She just needs some training.)

"Dante could you go ask the Captain how much longer we have on this tub. I'm getting a little sea sick."

With a grunt Dante stood up and began to make the slow trek to the Bridge. As Dante leisurely walked up the deck he became aware of a sense of de'ja'vu. This he pushed away with a few vigorous shakes of his head. Walking slowly towards his destinatiaon, Dante took casual note of the ships appearance. It was then that he realized the ship appeared to be it an abysmal state of disrepare. The planks of the deck were old and rotting, with little holes dug in them from what he assumed to be the work of wood worms. Dante humorously noted that this floor would become his and Trish's ceiling if the ship didn't strike land within the hour. The ancient ship was propelled by three large masts. Each mast had three levels of horizontal beams on which the sails were rigged. At the very top of each mast was a bucket crow's nest.

"I could spring up there with ease if necessary,"

He silently thought to himself. Then he stopped. Considered this. His hands then slowly balled into fists.

"So what!" This he said out loud. " I'm on an old ship headed to Manchester. Not the damn Coliseum! Mundus has been incapacitated for seven boring ass years and I've been so G-d damn starved for any shred of action even comparable to that of Mallet Island that I'm seein' things. Well I'm not gonna find it! And especially not on this tub! It is just as well I don't anyway. If I'm bored that means the human race is safe. In my department at least." The notion gave him some degree of comfort so he sighed and moved on.

Attempting to ignore the scarlet rivulets of electricity he felt he saw coursing through the iron rigging. As he reached the bridge door the full extreme of dicrepitancy of the floating tinder box struck him. The door,which probably was once even ornate, was now worn and splintery from sea storms innumerable. Even the crossed swords failed to glow with their original azul radiance.

"What!"

Dante stopped. His mind was screaming foul at him. Which became foul in its own right because it was also spinning. Dante squeezed his eyes shut and vigorously shook his head. When he reopened his eyes the swords were gone.

"Get a grip Dante! Get a fucking grip!" He told himself over and over again. He reached the door, turned the knob an slowly let his weight fall inward.

 

 

1

The Apostate

 

After sending the little fool on his errand Trish stood up and sauntered over to the starboard railing and sprung on. With cat like agility she ricocheted of the railing and landed gracefully on the very apex of the main mast in an assassin-like crouch. Slowly her figure started to shimmer and darken. Her blonde hair first became a dirty gray then a deep sable. Her whole body became colorless and it appeared that her black leather clothing grew and swallowed up her entire person with a sickening sucking noise. Finally, out of the darkness, her eyes glowed red. Doppelgangara stood feeling satisfied with her work. She turned starboard and sprung from one mast to the other and then onto the masthead. She stood and lifted her left hand heavenward. Her hand flickered then flashed a bright green streak across the sky. More green flashes followed in a series of streaks and bursts resembling a type Morse code. Doppelgangara turned, gathered up her focus, and melted. She dripped down the masthead in small separate rivulets and pooled on the deck. Doppelgangara, now a mere puddle the color of infernal darkness, slid across the deck toward the bench she was originally sitting on. She then rebuilt Trish's image in her mind and charged form. "Trish" sat on the bench and idly stared off into the swell of water sorrounding her.

"Soon Silas will see my message" she reflected. "And when he does we will be able to move on to the next stage of the plan."

 

2

Captain Orem McGrath

 

Now inside of the bridge Dante let his eyes slide across the surroundings. The room had familiar acutraments. There was a large steering wheel at the back and a great wooden table at the center with a heavy wingback chair behind it pushed back to the steering wheel and propped up against it to hold it steady. The captain was nowhere to be seen.

 

-Comforting.- Dante thought.

 

The walls were covered with maps and cartographs. An ancient Looking globe next to a statue of a man who appeared to be just as ancient. Dante wandered sIowly around the room and toward the globe. He steps up to the globe and begins to spin it. As he does so he finds that it always lands on their destination.

 

-Odd. I wonder how this thing works.-

 

Dante bends over to check the underside of the stand.

Suddenly the statue reaches out and grabs Dante in bear hug. Dante springs up slipping out of the hold, bounces off the back of its head sending it sprawling on the deck, and while landing swipes a flintlock off the central desk and presses it against the back of his attacker's neck.

 

"Who the hell are you?"

"I wouldn't do that matey," the statue said in a gravelly voice. "Unless y'plan to steer th' ship t'Ireland y'self. I be the captain of this ship."

"You don't seem to be being too useful," Dante pointed out indicating the makeshift "cruise control" with the flintlock. The captain took this momentary distaction to his advantage and scrambled away. He got to his feet and dusted himself off.

"I be trustin' that I will be receivein' no injury from you." Dante pulls back the flintlock's hammer with his thumb. He takes a step forward and levels the flintlock with the captain's head.

"What makes you so sure old man? I could give you a ninth hole right between the eyes if I wanted to." Dante took another step forward. The captain just smiled and shook his head.

"No. You couldn't, Matey. I always say a man should know his gun be'er than he know himself. An' I know that'er gun be not loaded."

"That could very well be true...matey. However, I have a gun on me that is loaded." Dante took a third advance still aiming the flintlock at the ancient captain. This time, the captain steped back one.

"How do I know y'be not lying to me?"

"I have no garauntee that this gun," Dante spins the flintlock on his finger once then aims it again at the captain, "is indeed unloaded. So you're just gonna have to take my word for it."

"Well it appears you have the upperhand, Matey. Say I give you the benefit of the doubt an' believe in that gun y'say y'have." For a brief moment the captain's voice lot its shipman's drag and took on the sound of a Englishman. Dante's eyes narrowed.

"Say that again." Dante requested too nicely.

"Ah said, it appears y'have th' upperhand, Matey. I'll give you th' benefit of th' doubt an' believe in that gun y'say y'have." Dante smiled.

"Who are you? And why did you attack me?"

"M'name be Cap'n Orem McGrath. This be my vessel an' furth'more m'cockpit." at he spoke Captain McGrath circled slowly around Dante."Y'were intrudin' an' touchin' what's mine. Ah find that offensive. So ah stepped up to give y'a piece a' m'mind." Immediatly Dante fired the flintlock, which was indeed loaded. As the bullet came toward him The Captain dodged to the side leaving black afterimages of himself as he moved. He then swung his right sholder back, extended his left hand, and projected a black orb at Dante. Dante dodges to the side as the burning sphere blasted by his body and exploded as it struck the bridge wall. Wood chips flew and sawdust obscured his vision.

As his vision cleared Dante saw the captain's form shift from Captain McGrath to something less defined. The color drained from the captain's clothing leaving it an insipid gray that reminded Dante of the Black and White room in his last mission. Then , before Dante's eyes, Captain McGrath seemed to de-age. His leathery skin slowly tightened around face and his long gray whiskers retracted into his chin and cheeks.

The teeth inside of his wickedly grinning mouth lost the yellow stains of age; and gleamed a pure white for an instant before sharpening, extending into fangs, and turning black. When Dante tore his eyes from that awful smile, he realized that those teeth weren't the only thing turning black. The captain's whole body was black as coal.

Captain Mcgrath's body slendered and seemed to flow like water. Before Dante, now stood a humanoid Shadow. Flashbacks of Mallet Island zipped by his eyes. He saw the ruined room will the Alter to the Lion. He heard the molases flow of those accurséd sabertoothed tiger demons. The Shadows. They were everywhere in that castle. He felt their red eyes watching him every step he took in that castle. Now they are here. Dante realized then that he had his work cut out for him.