Paradise Island was less than a rumor and more than a myth. The sort of thing only spoken of in taverns when candles guttered and drunkards were one long blink away from sleep. Tales of treasure and curses were like a treasure and curse unto themselves, for the treasure of entertainment is priceless but the curse of knowledge was a plague. Paradise Island was such a tale of course; of curses, of mystery and most importantly treasure.
Any sailor worth their salt would do well to simply enjoy such stories for what they were and concern themselves only with the work (and the hangover) the next morning was sure to bring. For the hungry and desperate such tales are akin to golden gospel, promising a way out of their miserable lives to a shining rebirth, if only they had the wings to ascend. No sailor with half a brain would chase it, for sailors these days were always in demand, but pirates? Pirates had always been susceptible to such tales of easy riches. Even the wealthiest of pirates would feel a tug at such a story, despite having no earthly need to chase such ghost stories. Such is the price of a true freedom that only pirates could experience. Unbound avarice, blinding you to perils just beyond the glimmer.
It is no wonder then that three young pirates would be lured away by such a siren song, though calling them pirates was a stretch. They may have thought of themselves as such, but what they did amounted to little more than petty theft as they hoped from island to island to steal what little money and food they could get away with. Though they had great experience sailing their own craft, a tiny sloop they lovingly called the Leviathan, the truth was they could expect little in the way of legitimatie job offers. At best they would be little more than chore monkeys and definitely not on the same ship. Therein lied the rub.
The Leviathan sailed the open sea happily, despite its crews long souring demeanor.It had been two weeks since the crew had started their search for the fabled Isle of Paradise with not a speck of gold to show for it. This had been fine at first. The three friends turned pirate were used to surviving on next to nothing but time eats all food eventually. They were also wearing out their welcome at the island they were 'resupplying' from. It had been chosen for its proximity to the legend, not its abundance of potentially unmissed spoils. Dafne, the lone woman and self appointed quartermaster, guessed they could only resupply at Dim Lantern maybe once more before its inhabitants would catch on, and Dafne was usually right.
"We could stretch it if we didn't pilfer any booze this time." Dafne said, legs pointed skyward as her back laid in the boat. Her head was cushioned on a bed of frizzy brown hair as she looked to the sky with brown eyes that matched her brown skin.
"Ha! Fat chance!. I'd sooner eat rope than go without rum." Kamil, Dafne's brother, called from the rudder. He was similarly brown, but possessed a much sturier frame and long dreadlocks. He was their bosun and the Leviathan was his baby but also nursed a bottle more than any of them. "Maybe we ought to call it quits early, eh?
"Oh no. You said we got one more day-" started a man at the helm..
"Half a day." Dafne corrected lazily.
"A whole afternoon!" the man at the front continued, "and I intend to use it. Even a small chance for treasure is better than no chance. Besides once we're done in Dim-Head we can hit up a better island. You said the bigger islands would make better targets anyway."
"I guess..." Dafne said.
The man was obviously not related to the other two by blood but it hardly mattered. His hair was much darker and much straighter, with an uncommon reddish skin that alienated him from the other children. But not Kamil and Dafne. He had been their leader from childhood, leading the three of them on all sorts of misadventures. He drug the Leviathan from the shore when it had been indistinguishable from flotsam years ago, simply because Kamil said he would like a boat. He started stealing simply because Dafne said she wanted to read. Ferran was that sort of person.
"I think we should trade places, the spyglass is starting to rub raw- wait…is that?" Ferran gasped. He leaned forward, daring not to even blink for fear he might lose sight of the faintest break in the water. He could barely form words, but his limited directions worked well enough until Kamil and Dafne could see it too with the naked eye. A lush island, big enough to hide a hundred treasures and then some.
"Do you think that's it? Ya know, Paradise?" Kamil asked.
"I have no idea." Ferran replied.
"Okay." Kamil mustered, trying to hide his growing apprehension. The island was a lot bigger than Kamil thought a treasure island would be, and there would certainly be no food or grog to steal.
Kamil's food worries proved immediately unfounded as they cased the shore. Ripe fruit practically fell in the boat as tree's overladen with burden hung low over the water. They nearly sank with all the fruit and had to throw away armfuls of bounty just to stay afloat. They nearly forgot to dock with all the food in the boat but then came upon an inlet through the overgrowth. The inlet turned out to be an overgrown cove, which turned into a neglected dock. Some of the dock was in poor shape but it was mostly intact, more than adequate for the Leviathan. They tied off and dislodged themselves from the fruit to stand on the old wooden planks.
"Wow." gasped Dafne, her eyes awash with the rainbow colors that ran through the island, biting her lip in excitement. Hand on his neck Ferran couldn't stop huffing the air, sweeter than any he had ever tasted. Kamil swayed on the dock, his hands holding his head as he drowned in the island's bird song, beyond anything retching gulls had ever sung. It took a minute to compose themselves as the island, mythical or not, had already left a mark on them. They set upon the island enthusiastically, eager for more.
"Found something!" Kamil shouted. "It's an old shed, but look what's inside!"
Peaking their heads in Ferran and Dafne found supplies perfect for ship repairs, and tools for a proper dry dock. Though old they would be perfect to fix up the Leviathan and Kamil wasted no time pointing out all the tools and gushing about all the things he could do to the Leviathan with them. This went on for several minutes, Dafne and Ferran finding his joy infectious.
"So how 'bout it? Should I get started?" Kamil asked Ferran, beaming.
"We'll probably have to sleep in the boat tonight so make sure it's light work, okay?" Ferran replied.
"On it boss." Kamil said, diving straight into work. Before Ferran could think about what he and Dafne were going to do Kamil already had a hammer in hand. Ferran was not entirely sure his friend had heeded his call to have the Leviathan only undergo minor repairs, but he could hardly bring himself to belabor the point. Kamil was happiest when he was working, often humming a tune as he did so, but you could tell he was really happy when he broke out in song.
"The little minnow thinks there sly,
They'll wink at the hook as he swims on by,
No lure can catch them, no net will hold,
That fishy rogue from the waters cold!"
"Come on." Dafne said to Ferran. "Let's make ourselves useful and scout the area. We won't have much time but I think I saw a house higher up."
"Okay, but let's try to be back before dark. This island is huge, and if it is Paradise we should be careful." Ferran replied.
There was no definitive version of Paradise, but it usually involved a pair of fabulously wealthy lovers moving to a remote island to eventually face any number of terrible fates, becoming a curse on the island in the process. It had been all well and good when it was just a story, but now that they found a real place Ferran was starting to become guarded. This island was too good from someone not to be here, and the old dock was proof of that. Dafne didn't share his apprehension.
"Never mind that, we've got a lantern. What if we find treasure?" Dafne said, pushing Ferran and walking ahead.
Ferran shook his head but said nothing, following Dafne as they scouted a perimeter around the old docks. The jungle surrounding them was teeming with life, and it was clear that the island played host to many that would be suitable for meat. This was better than he hoped, this island offered practically everything they could want. When they were satisfied there was nothing dangerous nearby they started up the path towards where they thought the house was. They were treated to Kamil's singing all the way up.
"They darted fast and then slipped low,
A silver flash in the moonlight's glow,
The cap'n cursed and the fisherman swore,
We'd not chase that fish no more!"
The sun was dangerously low as they made it to the top, but the trip had been worth it. There stood the house, looking every bit the abandoned spooky manor it was reputed to be. Though clearly a patchwork of different materials at several different times, age had not diminished the achievement of its construction in such a remote place. Three stories tall and all manner of strange additions it struck Dafne that this would be the kind of place that would have made a great pirate school, if such a place existed. She stood transfixed but Ferran looked at the horizon; it was time to go. Then just as he was about to pull on her back, he saw it. The door to the house was opened by neglect and in the gloom a golden glitter reflected the beams of dusklight.
Ferran forgot himself and rushed in with Dafne close behind. There in the darkness sat a golden egg on a shelf, sat on an exquisitely carved ivory egg cup. The pair stared at the egg, still perfectly illumed by the final rays of the sun. It was so well polished they saw their own faces in it, but more than that, they saw their golden future. Even if the egg was hollow it had more wealth in its shell than all three of them had ever seen in their lives combined. If it was solid then it might be worth more than all the gold in their home island. Maybe the island itself. Dafne moved to pick up the egg, desperate to know just how rich this one egg would make them, curiosity killing her. She moved slowly and delicately before-
CREEAAKKK
Dafne and Ferran jumped so badly they lost their balance on the uneven plank flooring. Danfe already had her hands out and was able to catch herself but Ferran had flew back, landing flat on his ass. The last of the daylight had gone and with it the heat of the day was starting to dissipate, causing the house to resettle. They sat in near total darkness for a few minutes before Ferran was able to light the oil lamp, glass shattered from the fall. With the old manor illuminated it struck Ferran how the house was less creepy with the lights off. Various skeletons of creatures, mainly aquatic, lined the upper beams as trophies. Portraits in various stages of decay lined the walls, their occupants staring at them with oozing faces. Curiousites lined the house, each more fascinating than the next, but even Dafne would struggle to identify even one. They shouldn't be here. Even the egg looked less inviting than it should have, gleaming in the lamp light.
"Well that was horrible." Dafne admitted. "But at least we got this." she said, scooping up the egg.
"Dafne no!" Ferran cried.
"What? Do you seriously think that this shit is cursed? Come on Fer-"
But Dafne couldn't finish. A new sound had entered her ears. A dull, awkward thud accompanied by a strange gurgling. And it was coming closer. The house echoed the sounds, making it impossible to know where it was coming from. They stood paralyzed, waiting for its approach, if only to know where to run. A shape finally came to the front door, slumped over in the doorway.
"Kamil?
It wasn't Kamil or even a man. It was misshapen and gurgling, regarding them with clouded eyes. It wore the fine clothes of a wealthy man on his wedding day, but they were stained and ruined by the body they covered. The rotting corpse of a zombie. It stood slumped only for a moment before it twitched and lurched at the pair of would-be pirates. They ran instantly through the house as fast as they could, with neither weapon nor wit to defend themselves. Only blind panic remained, propelling them like wind through the strangely long house. They reached the end and found the back door. Only it was shaking violently, as if someone was pounding from the otherside, zombie gurgling behind them.
They ran the only way they could, upstairs. On the second floor they found a large window near the landing, though it did not open for an easy escape it did let in the bright moonlight. The rest of the floor was just a dark foreboding hallway, leading to Witch knows where. Dafne, clutching the egg and breathing hard, knew that the third floor above was tiny and unlikely to offer any better prospects of escape. She considered the options briefly and looking at the egg made her choice.
"Ferran, use this! Smash the window!" she said, thrusting the egg to Ferran.
Ferran grabbed the egg and handed her the lamp. With a nod he heaved the golden egg with all his might through the window, sending splinters, glass and the egg sparkling into the moonlight. The groom's corpse had joined them on the landing; they were saved only by the zombie's awkward stumbling. Without a second thought Ferran leapt over the remaining shards of the jagged window onto the porch roof. It collapsed almost immediately, holding his weight just long enough to roll Ferran much farther than he wanted in front of the house. Dazed and full of adrenaline Ferran stumbled up, like a newborn deer plopped fresh in the dirt and covered in blood. He remembered Dafne, nearly snapping his neck as he looked back, and was shocked to see she hadn't moved, just staring at him with wide eyes. The zombie was nowhere to be seen. Ferran was confused but felt a wave of relief that Dafne was okay.
"They danced through kelp and coral reef,
Laughing as they drowned in grief,
But the minnows laughter had been brief
As they passed a fish with many teeth!"
'Kamil is alive!' Ferran thought, glancing hopefully down through the jungle. He spotted the distant glow of their other lamp and his heart swelled. As long as Kamil and the boat were fine there was hope, a fact the three of them had relied on many times over their careers as rapscallions. Dafne had disappeared from the window but Ferran was confident she was fine, wherever she was. He had little time to believe anything else. New figures began lumbering out of the house. More zombies, all males in rotting formal attire, each more disgusting than the last. They were trained on Ferran, stumbling and hissing for his flesh
Dafne was smart and he was fast. If he could lure them away Dafne should have no trouble getting back to Kamil, perhaps even with treasure or (more hopefully) weapons. He ran before the risen dead could surround him, drawing them away from the house and down the island. Ferran spotted the golden egg as he ran, in a perfect spot to be scooped up without losing speed, but ran right past it. He refused to be like those fools in the stories who traded their souls for a bit of gold. Ferran would save his friends and sail away, never looking back. He didn't care if they were separated as chore boys in the Navy; it had to be better than this.
"The guppy laughing could not see,
The delicious meal they would be!
They fell into a jagged maw
And then the teeth began to saw!"
"Kamil! Kamil!" Ferran yelled, waving frantically in the moonlight. "Kamil! Look behind you! Kamil!"
But Kamil did not turn around, continuing to pound away on the Leviathan. Their ship was propped on blocks in the empty cove, drained by the tide. Kamil ignored Ferran and kept signing. Only it was rapidly degrading, as if Kamil downed a shot of rum with every word.
"The guppy… had begun… to blEEd,
AnD uNdERstOOd… thEy'D… nOt… bE…
… FREED…"
"Kamil, can't you hear me? We're being chased by zombies. Just turn around and you'll… see…" Ferran said, sentence dying on his lips.
A hammer was deeply lodged in the back of Kamil's locks. Blood coated his tunic, a huge pool of red flowed on the soggy cove floor. Yet still he pounded away as if he had not lost gallons of blood. Pounding a massive hole in the side of Leviathan and gurgling to a doomed tune. Ferran could do nothing else but stare.
More moaning and gurgling caught up to Ferran. The dead men had reached the cove, twelve in total shambled from the bush, including the one that first chased him in the house. Ferran could see now that some were very old, wearing strange clothes and being so decomposed as to have belonged to a bygone era. This island was long cursed. Ferran had made his mind up to run, to where he had no idea. When he glanced back at Kamil as a kind of pitiful farewell, his feet stopped. Kamil had turned around to face him, eyes rolled up in his head, moaning mournfully, pointing. The other zombies had stopped their advance, staring at him with milky eyes, if they had any at all, pointing as well. Ferran froze with fear. Shivering, he turned to look where they pointed.
"Hello love~"
There upon the docks was sat the worst thing imaginable for a young and desperate man; a beautiful woman. She bore locks of fiery red hair that shone on her deathly pale skin, and a smile that openly revealed two oversized fangs. Her clothes mocked conventional sailor wear, being something one could only get away with if they did no actual work on a ship. While the leathers, corset and unnecessary frills were baffling to Ferran, he had to admit it did a phenomenal job highlighting her ample bosom. Ferran was largely ignorant of such things, having never known a woman, but even he could tell her looks could kill. He understood immediately with a glance that she was the most dangerous thing on the island. A Noble.
"Hmm…" she mused, tilting her head side to side. Normally he would have been flattered to be examined by someone like her but the way she looked at him made the hairs on his neck stand up. Like a predator but far, far worse. He knew she could do much more than take his life.
"No. Sorry love." she said, turning her head. "You're cute, but not cute enough to bend my rules. But don't worry, I'll make it painless. Relax."
Ferran had no clue what she was talking about. He still planned to run at the first opportunity but when the strange woman uttered that last word he felt his will leave him. She smiled at him and he smiled back, blinking lazily. When he opened his eyes the woman was gone. Ferran couldn't be bothered to care, though something inside him told him he should. He didn't flinch when her breath rolled on his neck. Even the fang piercing his neck barely mustered a flinch. The pain was brief. A pure ecstasy of the kind Ferran never could have imagined possible flooded from the wounds. It spread through his veins slowly, causing him to ripple with new sensations as it reached new parts of his body. Ferran was vaguely aware that his lifeblood was being siphoned away, but every drop of blood the red woman took from him was repaid with a lifetime's worth of bliss, pulsing through him over and over. A tiny voice inside him that had tried to fight back was drowned beyond hope by the sensations. Other voices sprang up, watered from this feeling, telling him that if he was going to die it would be well worth it.
Then Ferran had no more thoughts, going limp in the red woman's arms. She parted from his neck, a cruel smile on her glistening red lips. He was still alive but had lost too much blood to remain so for very long. She laid him down gently on the muddy cove floor, before straightening up with a look of satisfaction. Ferran writhed feebly in the mud, like an overgrown earthworm. She watched him struggle long enough to lick her lips, then set to business.
"You." she commanded, pointing to Kamil. "Take him to the deepest part of the ocean. And stay there."
Kamil's corpse gave no formal indication that he had heard the woman but trudged slowly to the unconscious Ferran, dropping the hammer. With eyes unfocused, he grabbed his doomed friend and dragged him by the leg to the recessed waterline, gurgling fruitlessly. Kamil gave no reaction when he reached the water and kept walking as though it were dry land, taking the unconscious Ferran with him. Once they were out of sight the red woman called out again.
"Dafne."
"Yes, captain." Danfe answered, emerging from the gloom. Her appearance was the same as when last Ferran had seen her, save for a tiny bit of blood in the corner of her mouth. No emotion showed on her face.
"Take your friend's little boat and burn it."
"Aye, captain."