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It was never heard of before, treasure just vanishing into thin air.
Seems everyday a chest gets missing, the red sleeved pirates were on their last straws.
"Hey, did you hear?" A pirate said as he turned the tap to collect drinking water from the Scuttlebutt.
"They say another one went missing yesterday night." He said pouring the water straight into his mouth in a single gulp.
"Aye, I heard." Replied another pirate from the group who was waiting for his turn to fetch a cup.
"Creepy ain't it? Guards are set so no-one has been going in or out of the room, yet a chest is missing everyday."
"What I think is creepy is the fact that no one has found the missing treasure." The first pirate continues.
"We've searched every nook and cranny of this ship. Was it tossed into the ocean?"
"I don't think anybody would toss treasure into the ocean, what's the need of stealing it then?" Another pirate joined in the conversation.
"Hahahaha arghhh." A laugh came from a man sitting on a box in the corner.
"You lot sit around near the scuttlebutt making idle chatter as usual." That same voice said.
He jumped off the box, teetering a bit as he stepped into the light in the middle of the room.
In his hands he held a bottle of rum and in his waist a sword was held by some scarves.
"Quite naive of you lads to think it's one of our own taking the treasure." He says before taking a swig of the bottle.
He was a seasoned warrior of the sea, the first mate of the captain and the oldest man on the boat.
"Mandrake Vice Captain!" All the pirates said and stood at attention.
"Spineless children." Mandrake said in response to their greeting before spitting on the floor.
"It's clear that the treasure is haunted lads, I think that would be obvious after the fourth chest was gone." He took another swig and began walking and swaying back to the deck.
"If you lads have enough time in your hands to scuttlebutt come up to the deck, a storm's-a-brewing."
He continued walking while the pirates down below gathered their wits.
As he exited the room all of them realized what had just been said.
"A storm's-a-brewing." Immediately, they gathered their weapons and came up to the deck.
An odd thing about the vice captain is that he had the uncanny ability of telling when the next fight would take place.
For him to tell them to gather their weapons meant that it was already pretty close.
Coming up to the deck the ship was in foggy waters.
"What do you see lad?" The captain asks the crew mate on the crow's nest.
"Nothing yet, sir." He answers back
"Just fog all around."
"Are you sure there is a storm?" The captain turns and asks Mandrake who's polishing his sword.
"As sure as my left liver, kiddo." He points it in a stance, the blade shining white and ethereal in the fog.
"It's gonna be a big one."
Suddenly the man in the crow nests screams.
"Captain!!!!."
Yet no one needed to say anything
Everyone saw what was in store for them.
They lit fires on the deck of each ship
"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6...." Mandrake whistled.
"That's a lot of ships, Collins. What's the plan?"
Collins eyes were trained on the fire and he smiled a devilish smile.
"What do you mean about a plan?"
"I think it should be bloody obvious."
"Obviously." Mandrake agreed, shaking his head.
"Men!!! The navy has come for our heads, almost certain death lies in our path, but infamous glory lies ahead of it."
The crew members gathered up, holding their weapons and kept at attention, waiting for the command of their Captain.
Mandrake stood behind him, his aged heart pounding and his blood hot, at 56 years of age, he had lived through way worse than many, yet he could somehow feel it, this was it.
The captain was different though, you could see it in his stance, that kind of confidence, you don't fake such, the confidence worthy of 200 million sharks bounty.
The ships grew closer and they could see the navy emblem on the flag now.
The captain drew out his sword and screamed at the top of his voice.
"And remember what we say to the god of death?"
The crew, ever ready to give the reply, shouts it out.
"Sorry mate, not today."
They rushed out, swinging on ropes to meet the respective navy ships that surrounded them.
It was utter chaos of gunfire, sword clashes and screams.
The battle lasted for 3 whole hours but at last it came to an end.
4 ships destroyed, Mandrake looked around and noticed he was the only one left standing, his luck held out again.
He looked to his Captain, finally down after 4 bullet wounds, 3 nasty cuts at his back and a spear head sticking out of his leg, the shaft probably broken off somewhere.
He himself was covered with blood but it wasn't his.
The rest of the navy came towards him wearily, cautious because of the long trail of bodies at his back.
Mandrake backed up to the taffrail, and glanced at their ship spewing smoke from canonfire and half submerged.
'Make that 5 ships destroyed.' He notes to himself inwardly.
The navy folks were closing in on him and he made the decision.
Remembering their war cry, he jumped into the treacherous water filled with ship debris.
Underwater, he swam towards his ship and noticed that the scuttlebutt had turned over spewing jewels and gold on the floor of the ship.
Looking almost identical like the ruins of where the treasure was found.
He swam back up and noticed that the ships were moving out, probably assuming him as dead.
He floated on some driftwood before making it to the next port.
In the streets, it could be heard in every bar, and seen in every paper.
It was the hottest gossip in town.
Mandrake laughed at the headline, yet he mourned for his crew.
As he blended in with the masses of the port, he remembered the war cry amidst the gossip.
"Death mate, not today."
