The crew, dangling by a thread, were in few. The captain, his first mate, and four deckhands were all that stood. Of these soulless prisoners was Deupi, a young krawk; eyes dulled; his hope lost. He lay in the corner, already letting go of the fine string they all held on to. He was the most cadaverous member of the crew; denying himself anything of comfort for the last few years of his life. Thoughts began to cloud his mind as he glimpsed at the dazzling picture of his family; an Enthalpy long slipped past his fingers. At conclusion, in his recluse thoughts, he approached the captain. His strides long, steeply gaited, unreassuring.

He walked in front of the captain; paused for a minute before he began, still unsure of himself.

Captain..?" he asked. The captain nodded in acceptance to his acknowledgement, he continued, "I have an idea on how we might make it through..."

The others glanced up, in deep disbelief, incoherent to who this foolish boy might be.

The captain gave a heavy sigh, put a wooden mug to his lips, and drained the deep brown tawny from the mug. He gave another heavy sigh, this time filled with sympathy, finally saying, "Continue..."

His eyes brightened an ounce as he began to piece back all the false hopes, bound to be nullified again, and continued, "It is my idea, that our only chance will be found in the scuba tanks we have left. There are only but five and we have six members left. It is my wish that I shall be the one who goes without one of them..." his voice trailed off as images flashed in his mind, he slipped into a mental caesura.

The captain, more immediate this time, said, "You realize you are indignating my power to name you such an expendable?" he sighs, heavy hearted; continuing, "Fine. I accept your offer to excoriate yourself from this world, and possibly the next."

Everything for a second, just one second, was still. Deupi, confused and aroused, climbed the stairs out of the hull, shielding his almost dilated eyes from the intense sun. The sky was clouded, but clearer then ever. Then, Deupi turned his body, rib bones pressed hard against skin; he looked out at the tranquil, turquoise waters. Small, phosphorescent fish and kelp pieces slowly floated to the top. Deupi deeply inhaled and exhaled, skin pulled tight around his chest. He looked back to the west, his breath suddenly pulled away. They were caught in his eyes, approaching the most fierce some edge.

He braced himself as he endured the long, treacherous walk down. He slammed the creaking cabin door, fixating whether locking it would actually be worthwhile. He pondered upon this while the other members milled about, drinking and conversing. He pulled the brass door lock to the left as it bolted shut. He walked away, still indecisive of it all.

A massive maelstrom of black water, bit away at the boat. The small boat thrashed with the bitter ocean, lashing the anterior of the boat into the chaotic waters. It didn't take long for it to happen, it was certain to happen. The climactic session of the storm overwhelmed the hull. The keel flew out of the water immediately; the boat flopped on its side like it was nothing. The sea then took over, all hope lost. The raging ocean quickly consumed the boat, and its crew.

The crew scampered around for important material possessions, mainly the breathing tanks. As agreed, Deupi was rejected an air tank, grabbing only the picture of his family before swimming to the surface and grabbing the small life buoy. His small, powerful, legs quickly pushed upwards flawlessly. At the last minute, the tossed line from the life buoy snagged the starboard mast, pulling him to an abrupt descent.

Deupi fought for the buoy, clawing at the string, excoriated small fibers, yet it wouldn't snap. His head began to feel heavy, nauseating his body. He began to black out as his lungs heaved for more oxygen. His heart battered itself, knocking out more oxygen, gradually slowing, until it stopped.

Deupi lay cold, his harsh grasp on the buoy loosened to nothing as his body slowly floated up. A sharp, clawed hand lashed out, grasping around his frail, cold body. Deupi flung out of the water landing next to the Captain, who had not gone down with his ship. Deupi wheezed out water and blood as the Captain gave him a sharp shove in the stomach to purge it all out. The sixth member had pulled through.

The Captain pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket, where five small spare batteries were stored. He clicked the small button and a ray of thin, transparent light illuminated high in the air, hoping nearby ships would see.

The storm seemed to be calming down as the six members rocked, almost steadfast, in the short waved waters. Rain blinded only the sea as small masks covered all over their sea worn eyes. Deupi, picture still in hand, noticed a few good fish floating upwards. He snatched one of the phosphorescent bodies and avidly grabbed more, ten in total. He swam over to the captain, who was still holding the flashlight. He showed the fish to him, the captain nodded in acceptance and took one of the fish. The crew, smelling the delicious meat, swam over to greet it.

They all ate slowly. Aside from their ravenous hunger, they still kept posture and manners while eating. They never thought it would come though. They didn't know what to expect next, knowing by great chance they'd die, but still hoping for something as good as being rescued. Their prayers were called upon.

A large keel cut through the water, a couple fathoms away. Ropes were let down for the crew to climb upwards on. The crew quickly headed this deed, all larking with hope inside. Deupi, with a heavy heart and a lowered energy level, was pulled up quickest. Once they were all on board, the Captain inspected them. She nodded in approval of all but Deupi. Deupi's stamina, less outlook, and energy profound her cold emotions towards men. Deupi was to be thrown overboard at dawn; even he deserved a good last meal and fighting chance though.

Deupi sat in his small crew cabin bed; his head in his hands and knees. No tears flooded his eyes, only thoughts. Thoughts deeply clouded the deep chasms of his mind as he planned how'd he go about doing it. He wasn't an ignoble man, he wouldn't die one. He was going to end his life himself. He would not beckon to the sea's death call.

He slowly rose from his fetal position to see the Captain at his door. She was an amazing character. She was thin, but extremely well built for the elements of the sea. Her feline eyes seemed to inspect what he knew as his 'soul'. He shuddered deeply at the thought of himself being viewed through such sadistic eyes.

She approached him slowly, in a kind gait, one that should be seen under suspicion, but usually isn't. He saw her as a condescending character, cruel and intent on the end of the male race. He turned away as she sat down, smirking sickly. She grabbed his shoulder, gripping tightly and pulled him towards her.

Only terror could fill his eyes, and even that didn't at this moment. He just stared, before ripping her hand off of his arm. He scowled, jumped up, and left the room, slamming the door in her face as she attempted to pursue him.

He walked quickly and intently to the starboard edge, tying a thick fiber rope around himself; then tying it tight around the edge. He climbed over the wooden rail, raised his arms far in front of his head, and closed his eyes. He pushed off, falling so fast, keeping his eyes shut tight as it came. The end was upon him.

There was a small sound, like a bone breaking, splintering so quick it was over before it began. His body remained fixated until the Captain, seconds later, pulled him up. The entire crew screamed in horror. His head rolled to one side and stared at the picture of his family in his hands; now in God's.

One year later...

It was foolish to let the thought of such a small group of marauders ease your mind of their abilities, or so thought the marauders and every wise man in seaport. They harked any news of the marauders and headed its symbol act with such a drive no man could comprehend to where they pulled such a logic.

The marauders had been plaguing the land for their share of time by now, and started moving west, towards Deupi's territory. Deupi was now a ghost, a dead man who haunted the wayward water's of his grave. Every ship that ever passed during a storm that year had come out ok, no matter how outlandish the circumstances seemed. Deupi made sure his candor never turned into vindictiveness, as he sometimes became jealous of the passing ships during storms; but guilt always grasped him as his ghostly powers seemed to mold a shield around the boat, pulling it through.

The marauders were different. They had heard the tales of Deupi, and planned to capture him with the soul-stealer potion they had smuggled out of a very important cargo ship. Their twisted, greedy intentions would lead to the worst of things. As they set sail, racing out of the port, deckhands lightly armed lifting the five masts on their stolen lead commander's boat; The Mausoleum.

She was a small, fast-gliding boat, swiftly cutting through the water, escaping the hands of the heavy pursuit of the commander's fleet. She gaited out swiftly, just in time as an opposing winds rushed in, cutting her speed in half. The vagabond Captain cackled and took another gulp from his large, tavern mug, undoubtedly stolen as well.

The crew of merciless thieves pulled into the area of Deupi right as another summer storm flew in, fast and vivacious. Deupi saw them coming, but dared not approach, seeing the pirate's flag. They couldn't see him, but knew he was out there. The potion was to be used five fathoms at the most from any ghost or spiritual being, which would be a challenge for the pirates.

They still pulled it off. As the great ship began to keel over, Deupi resisted no longer, striking the leaning side with a spell. Just as he did, a quick deckhand removed the bottle's cap and the potion filtered around Deupi, making him solid once more.

More deckhands moved in swiftly, wrapping ropes tight around him, covering the ropes in the potion as well. They heaved and lifted Deupi onto the deck. The captain emerged from his cabin. He snarled in disgust at Deupi's lean figure. He snorted and pointed to the hull. The deckhands quickly lifted and tossed him into the hull's dungeon.

Hours into the night, Deupi regained ghost form, and slid right out of the tight fibers. He quickly looked for an exit, and noticed a locked door. He moved through it, curious. He let out an ear shattering scream and his eyes lay upon the contents.

The crew quickly awoke, blades at hand. They ran to the source of the scream; Deupi's cell. The captain ripped open the door, ripping Deupi up by his neck, the potion having been poured on him once more. The Captain knew what he had seen, but not the crew.

The captain had a cruel look in his eyes, and a horrific smile on his face. He merely whispered to his first mate, "We won't kill him, just grab me my whittler's knife.

With the whittler's knife in his hand he looked to Deupi and muttered, "You've seen too much.

Deupi was laid on a table, his arms strapped down like a rabid animal, the leather straps tight against his heaving chest and frail arms. Deupi was blind folded for a time. The leather straps tightened, cutting into his now live flesh. The Captain approached, the whittler's knife in his hand. Deupi screamed as he felt the blind fold soak with blood as his eyes were voraciously excoriated from his body.

When the Captain was satisfied, he ripped off the straps and blindfold, wrapped Deupi's semi-ghost body in a black trash bag. The deckhands tied a few midsized rocks to Deupi's legs and arms. The captain picked up the weighted body, and tossed it overboard, cackling, "You've seen far too much.

Deupi woke up without his eyes. In their place lay two cold, hollow, cavities. He screamed as he lashed out his arms, feeling for something familiar. He found it. He was floating in his territory, sitting upon the life buoy from the day he died.

Story [c] Stef and all her glory