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Thank you to all who made submissions during the contest! I will review all of them, and then post my deecision within the next few days.
Also, as a treat for you all, I decided to let you in on one of the many developing characters that will appear in Chapter IV. I won't give him away that much, but hopefully you start to see where he may lead us.
Enjoy!
Have you ever told a child that they wouldn't see daddy anymore?
I was only a few days old, but how I remember that awful night. I was placed in a dark, wet box, and thrown out in to the cold, redeeming waters, meant to purge my soul from this earth. Perhaps it would have been for the better of humanity - but my soul was not the only one which needed cleansing.
I was born as the dirty little secret of my mother. Father was always out on merchant trips, sailing the seas - I guess she saw that as the perfect opportunity to liven up her quiant little life. My real father just so happened to be passing through town, when he caught eye of her from across the tavern - only a few drinks was all it took.
Dearest Mother knew that if her so-called husband ever found out about me, it'd be her head swaying from the gallows. Not like it took any debating or anything - all it took was a small crate that she stole from the docks, and before you knew it I was floating through the waters like the baby Moses. But this child wasn't meant to bring any salvation.
I was lucky enough to have myself picked up by a rogue Navy ship not to far from my port. Oh God, how my blood was cold when they took me from my little container - but I was alive. I guess the cold weather only managed to kill my soul. The soldiers dumped me off at some nunnery in London, and that's where I spent my childhood.
Not like it was going to last. I'm not one to spend my life reading from books, and even writing in them. No, I ran away as soon as I got the slighest idea of what "freedom" was. But freedom has a price, and that price put me below any others you found in stores. I spent my life scurrying in the allies of London, scrapping up any morsels I could feed on. You couldn't imagine the number of times I had to sleep down in the sewers just so I wouldn't get mugged in my sleep by the other scavengers that roamed about. But it taught me something about life - only you are responsible for watching your back, and it's your own fault if you get stabbed in it.
By the time I was around 18, I finally got the chance to liberate myself - by striking a deal with the Brits themselves. Not like I had a choice - I either had to enroll with them, or face the gallows. And to think it wasn't a hard decision. Nowadays, the latter is welcome.
Except, they didn't want me to do just anything. They assigned me to work as a mercenary for the East India Trading Company, in the Caribbean, no less. If they thought the warm weather would melt my heart, they were wrong - as if any of the mongrels in this business have hearts. Any of them will kill you at any turn.
And that's how they trained me. They taught me that I couldn't let emotion take over what had to be done. They tortured me - they cut my skin, poured hot tar on my limbs until they turned black - they wanted me to learn what pain I was going to cause. They wanted me to feel like it was my duty.
They made me do things - unspeakable things. The ways I've killed people, where, why, how, with what, and mostly who, would make their families want to end their lives evermore. I've watched entire families burn alive in their homes, and I laughed as I held the torch. I let the fires that burn down my enemies be the thing that warms me.
But then, I quit.
I failed to carry out an order on a French trading monger who was monopolizing trade that the British thought they owned. But they forget the kind of man they were dealing with - a wealthy one. He paid me, and I killed the rest of my party. Not like he was getting off easy - I killed him anyway, just for the thrill of it.
I roam where ever I can go, preying on whatever opportunities I may have. I don't consider myself good, nor an evil. I am simply a missionary of the angel of death, awaiting for when I myself may be brought to meet all of those that have crossed me. But until then, I linger.
My name is Captain Amadeus Darkskull, and I'm here to watch the world burn.
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