Hook

Chapter one

Hook, his reputation is widespread. Rumors of his return to this little town were true. The rumor is he is looking for new shipmates. What happened to his old crew is a mystery. Nobody dared to ask; only lined up in hopes to be chosen. It was no secret that he was a generous captain. His crewmates donning the finest of attire and the most precious of gems. The gold coins, they were abundant.
He, and what was left of his crew have been in this inn for days drinking and fucking like there is no tomorrow. He never got up past noon and never kept a woman in his chambers while he slept. His crewmates were more than loyal; they worshipped him. There was no getting close to him without one of them putting a sword to your neck, or through your heart.

Hook. The most feared captain of the time. I imagined him to be gruesome, grotesque, disgusting, not easy on the eyes, but he was quite the opposite. Handsome, well kept, and polite; a gentleman. He thanked every server, kissed the hand of every maiden he consorted with and paid well the whores he fucked. Charming in everyway, he commanded the occupants of the inn as if he owned the place. Hell, with the amount of gold he was giving away, he might as well own the place, maybe even the town.

I stayed away, kept my presence hidden from him, watched him and his mates. He did not seem to have a second in command, but he wasn’t stupid enough not to. He was quite clever. For every favor he lent, he collected handsomely. Not only was he good at giving, he was equally good at collecting. Night after night, when the party died down and the sycophants crawled away, he began collected his old debts. Poor men, drunken men, sleazy men, all alike in their debt to the great captain, paid up, or begged for their lives. Tonight, an old drunk named Icarus, begged the captain for more time, promising he would have the payment the next time the captain came around.

“And how do you plan to pay me drunkard? What do you have that would be of value to me the next time around?” He smiled at the man, who was shaking, his fear oozing out of his pores. Hook raises an eyebrow in question and his coy smile widened. I sucked in my breath slow; the anticipation of what came next was thrilling. I never knew what he would do next; he kept me on my toes. I focused on his handsome face, his plump lips, his dark eyes and lashes, his tanned skin, looking for any sign that he was going to kill the man. The patrons stilled, the room grew silent. All eyes were on Hook and his magnificent smile, his teeth perfect, his eyes, dark and full of dread. His fingers rapped the wooden table once, twice…nothing more. He is going to kill him.

Last night he killed the local sword smith Leonard, for not having his new sword completed a day ahead of schedule. His son Bartholomew, now in charge of finishing it in two days time. He paid the boy three times what he agreed to.

I didn’t understand his logic. Sure, killing men for the fun of it was ruthless, but compensating their families?  How does that inflict fear in men? Where men quivered in their boots, I puzzled at the why. He did not seem to be all that frightening to me, but where those men lacked the guts, I had plenty. I remained hidden behind the wide support beams in the back of the inn, I sat where the drunkards came to wallow in their sorrows and puke in the empty barrels. I had grown fond of this inn, mostly because it was quiet, and scarcely populated on most days.

It was quite the crowd this night. I assume that this is when Hook will take the opportunity to make an example of the poor man.

“What’s a matter drunkard, cat got your tongue?” Hook grabbed the face of the whore next to him, shoved his tongue in her mouth for a quick kiss, and groped her left breast while his crew cheered and slammed their mugs of beer together, the liquid sloshing out of all sides.

Before the man could speak, and before anyone could blink, Hooks sword went through the man’s heart and with his other hand, or rather, hook, cut off the mans hand. Pulling his sword back towards him, Icarus collapsed by Hooks boots. They were black to match his fancy attire. The silky red handkerchief around his neck added to his charm.  Hook. His name literally defined him.

“Clean this up,” he said with a dismissive hand “and hang this old hand on the wall over there, as an example to never cross me.”  The room remained silent. Only his crew stared at him in awe, the rest with fear.

A couple of old drunkards quickly came forth and dragged Icarus’s limp body out of the inn. Their solemn faces the only indication of their remorse for their old friend. The whore, Jezzy, nervously shifts herself in Hooks lap and nuzzles his neck. After another moment of silence, Hook raises his bloody hand of steel, and feigns a bow to his crewmates. His men cheer and clap. Some of them give him a standing ovation, then commence with their drinking. More whores join them and the once quiet inn, resumes its loud ruckus once again. Business as usual.  Hervey, the innkeeper, makes his way towards me, hammer in one hand and nail between his lips. He eyes me curiously, noting my chosen seat behind the thick beam. For a second, I thought he was going to speak to me, but he didn’t. He kept his eyes on the task ahead, hammering the large nail in the palm of Icarus’s hand before putting it up on the wall. When he finished, he pulled out his handkerchief, cleaned the blood off his hands, and placed a pitcher to collect the drips of blood. He was smart to pay me no mind. I gave him enough gold in my years stay in this town for him to know better.

Resuming my scrutiny of Hook when Hervey walked away, I paid special attention to the whispers of the patrons. They spoke of the rumors and stories they heard of what happened to the last crew. Of course, it wasn’t a pretty death, and of course, they always died with honor. Most of the low lives were here, hoping to get a chance to sail with the fearless pirate. They never think of the dangers, they always talk of the wealth and treasure they will have when they return. As always, they are the ones who never return. Perhaps they turn on Hook and his crew, thinking they would be a better captain or first mate or perhaps they simply want all the treasure and the glory of taking out the dreaded pirate. One would become the most feared of all if they killed Hook.

Wiping his mouth with his fancy sleeve after finishing off his drink, Hook pushed the whore to the side of him and stood, pushing the rounded wood off the large barrel underneath and gave it a good kick to wake the creatures inside. Eels, the flesh eating kind, thrived in there. Hervey kept them as pets, but the loyal patrons knew that he used them to settle up payments from time to time. Losing a finger or two as payment was horrific to some, but to the old drunkards, it was better than being banned for life. This place was their home.

Raising his hand to quiet the crowd, an echo of hushes filled the air, and the room grew silent again. Some grew fearful; others scooted on the edge of their stools in hoped of another bloody show. I waited and watched the handsome pirate command the crowd.

“Ladies, gentleman, and whores.” he glanced at Jezzy and blew her a kiss. She batted her eyelashes and blushed. “It is time to choose my new crewmates. Who is brave enough to sail with me? Who is strong enough to ride the dangerous waters and battle the fierce creature we call the sea? Which one of you bastards is greedy enough to plunder and pillage and take what you want? Which one of you will be lucky enough to join my crew?”

There was no hesitation. Men pushed and shoved their way towards the captain. A few fights broke out amongst them, swords were drawn, blood spilled, more bodies dragged away. Hooks excitement shone on his face. His sexy grin and cocky stance, stirred something in the pit of my stomach. He wasn’t surprised by these men’s actions; he expected it. The fucking bastard expected it! I admired that. 

He raised his hand once more and skillfully contained the hungry crowd. The sleaziest of men were lined up, Murderers, thieves, rapists, and baby killers, drooling for their chance at the promise of adventure and riches. All fools who think they have what it takes.

“I’ve decided there is only room for two on my ship.” Plopping his boot on the edge of the barrel, he pulls out a beautifully carved blade. From what I can glimpse, the handle looks to be made of ivory. A rare and valuable possession, of course to dangle in front of the sycophants and admirers. A murmur of admiration and whispers fill the room. He’s good. Maybe too much for his own good.

Gently tugging the red silken handkerchief, he purposely reveals a thick golden chain. With his first button already undone, he slowly pulls the golden rope out, revealing a large skull ring decorated with ruby red eyes. His insignia. The same picture that adorned his flags. The same flags that alerted other ships that it was the last thing they would ever see, notified the villages that they would be plundered or pleasured by Hook and his crew. With slow and deliberate movement, he slides the chain over his head and places it in Jezzy’s palms. He then instructs her to remove the ring from the chain and place it in his hand all the while watching the mesmerized patrons with a sick pleasure. No one knew what he was up to and it was clear that he got off on it. Jezzy stood up, gently removed the blade from his palm and presented the ring to him as if it were a king’s crown. She even curtsied afterwards.

“Thank you, whore. Now in order to choose my new crewmates, I require two things. Fearlessness and loyalty.”  Dropping the ring into the barrel, he said, “Retrieve my ring, and you shall join my crew. May the best men win. And just to make things interesting… Boys…”

The youngest two of the crewmates, not older than seventeen, grabbed Jezzy’s arms and pulled her over the barrel. She screeched and begged them not to feed her to the eels. She thrashed and tried to pull away, but the boys were strong and solid, not budging an inch. Another crewmate stood up and grabbed the captain’s blade from her tight grasp slicing her palm in the process. Blood spilled into the barrel, arousing the blood lusting creatures within. The water bubbled and splashed, the barrel rumbled and shook, sharp teeth snapped out of the water toward Jezzy who’s shrill screams filled every corner of the inn. The other whores who were with the Hook and his crew, screamed and ran away, fearing for their own lives.

It only took a few minutes before the poor whores scream stopped and as her slumped, headless body crumbled to the floor, I saw it in his eyes. Hook stood tall and proud and fearless. A supreme Emperor of pain and fear and death. A man who put the devil to shame on numerous occasions. I knew what made him the most feared pirate of our time.

“Well that was fun,” he said, “Shall we begin?”