Page 3 - January 2017 Contest Winner

That humping jezebel had Willie in her power before the corset came off.

Had him boarding her, each night dropping golden booty down her buttoned
undergarments. The captain had warned him about her. But her sex-craft was
strong, and by the time the Indigo left port, Willie had begun his plan.

Mutterings were uttered in the windy corners of the poop. Eyes began
shifting on watch. And then. Yes, then… The minute the crew lost heart in the
storm, when the fear of the Triangle had reached its apex, Willie acted. The time
was ripe. The knives were loosed. The blood was spilled. Young Conley, his charge

for four years, watched as his own bowels slipped out from his belly. Jenkins
simply dove into the waves to escape the blades. Kravitz and Smythe were killed
on deck. All three bodies were unceremoniously dumped into the sea en-route to
the nameless island. The Captain’s new home.

Willie. The Captain didn’t care that he’d die on this worthless island. He just
didn’t want to do it before Willie got what was coming to him. He knew how fate

worked on the high seas, and was certain Willie’s comeuppance was at hand. But
he’d love to witness the fall. Oh, to hear the rope’s song as it snapped the brute’s
neck. That long creaking pull of sinew, followed by the splash of involuntary
bowels releasing upon the planks. The dance of death was seeking his partner,
and Willie needed to have his turn.

The Captain smiled. He winced a bit as his salt-cracked lips split. Nothing
naval came easy, but there was always a way. Escape from an island always seems

impossible, but lesser men had won their freedom. And the Captain came from a
long line of mariners. A lineage like that formed the basis of a caste that couldn’t
simply be marooned. You could kill them outright—as Willie should have done—
but don’t think leaving them on an island was an inevitable death sentence.

He had beaten the odds so far. He found water, fruit and a cavern that

offered some shelter. He was doing alright until he got sick. The fever. He couldn’t
hold down the food anymore, and he had been shivering for five days. He was
weakening. If he couldn't get the fever to break, he’d be dead in a matter of
hours. And Willie will have won.