The story of my pirate incarnation from England to Antarctica.
About a thousand words or a 5 minute read.
When I incarnated in the later 1600’s it was to a poor family in Southern England. When I was still a boy my father didn’t come home one day, and that was that. I was raised by my mother and sister, we went to church on a regular basis.
The preacher he often spoke of the pirates, as we were in a port town. He said that they were all going to hell, and were destined to be there, becoming demons, and living lives of endless torment. Not tormenting just themselves mind you, but also the living, for the manifestations of Satan were everwhere.
Note that during this time, the living conditions of the impoverished such as myself were rather attrocious. We lived in constant fear, with no man of the house, any drunk could barge in, steal, beat and rape. The police or men of authority were no better of course. Minor transgressions could lead to floggings, or imprisonment. The rovings gangs only added to the fear. There was no sympathy for the poor, much as is the case today in many areas.
The preacher spoke of heaven as a place where we could go and worship God forever. I was already familiar with a life of submission, and it did not seem apetizing to me.
So I hope you understand the allure I felt, to be free of the fear that at any moment I might be taken away, and not come home, for a minor transgression. To become an immortal tormenting demon, seemed a much safer bet. So when I came of age, I said my farewells to my mother and sister, and joined a merchant vessel destined for the Carribean.
I’m not sure when it happened but we were boarded by a military vessel at some point. It was looking for stowaways and to warn us about unsanctioned pirate activity in the area. For a hefty sum they said they would accompany us.
“With sums that high, this might as well be a robbery.” The merchant owner replied.
“Better to lose some money than your life.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
The military people seemed unhappy, but the merchant was unyielding. We got to port safely, which only solidified the merchants decision, so he never paid protection. Eventually though, we did get boarded. The stingy merchant also only paid pennies to the crew, including myself, little more than a cabin boy.
The first time we were boarded by pirates, they took our gold and finery, then did a little recruiting. When I stepped up they laughed at me saying they don’t accept boys, after they left I was flogged for trying to join them. Couldn’t sleep comfortably for weeks after.
Eventually I joined another merchant vessel as a sailing hand, though I was paid little more, I grew strong on the ropes. When next we were boarded, I got in.
Gambling is something I can only feed disgust and contempt for. I didn’t understand my urges, and so prostitutes didn’t appeal to me. Combined with my paranoia that I would get picked up and wouldn’t come back, kept me within sight of the boat at all times. Preferably on the boat. I never did like leaving it.
I did acquire a taste for gold and jewels, the symbols of power I was raised to hoard and admire as an impoverished child. Wheather and where I buried any of it is hard to say, and in any case it would likely be underwater now, as I wouldn’t have gone beyond sight of our modest schooner. I did buy some things for the boat, and was in charge of resupplying it. Much did go to drink, as I was an alcoholic.
Eventually, the former leaders went missing on land or were killed during our raids, so I was elected Captain. There were whispers that the war was ending, and peace terms were to be signed. The maps ended below cape horn. When I asked someone, they told me dragons were there, loaded with gold, and the only reason it wasn’t marked on the map, was that no one returned alive, all sorts of strange tales. I valued my freedom and feared that an end to the war would spell our end as well. So I decided that we should continue south, along the coast of South America, ahead of the news of impending end, propelled by the promise of boundless riches.
When passed the cape of south america and continued on south. Luckily for us, it was summer in the southern hemisphere. We passed some islands, devoid of dragons, but with some birds and seals. We weren’t familiar with seals, but they tasted fine, and so we kept going. Dragons that fed on such beasts would certainly be enormous.
We got to the Antarctic Peninsula, it was getting rather frigid. Nor did the crew like the twilight of the endless day. While they were arguing aboard, I went with a few of my more loyal crew to investigate the land of dragons. I was in no rush to get back, it was all on the verge of mutiny, and if I didn’t deliver, I’d probably be marooned anyhow.
So we continued on up the mountainside and through the valley. We were mighty cold for a long time, as the little fingers on my left hand had gone numb and turned black. It was then, in valley of a frozen land, that I prayed. Not for salvation or redemption no, I prayed for the fires of hell, for the demons to rise up and take me there.
They heard my call, for it was not much later we saw a flying dragon. A bright light in the sky descending upon us. I awoke on a hard metal bed, my little left fingers were missing, my crew mates slept on beds beside me, and our clothes were on the floor nearby, a cutlass glinting through them. Then I saw the little demons, grey with their big black demonic eyes. I grabbed for my cutlass and striked. “Take me to your jewels demon!” I said, while running him through. It was my last conscious memory from that lifetime.
I reincarnated as a bluish reptilian-grey hybrid miner, deep in the warm caves, to help me learn the value of minerals. A story for another time.
By Logan Streondj 2016
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