I stared into the open sea, finally able to see the reflection of the sun in its vastness. It was a crystal blue that filled one's lungs with salt under the brutal noon sun, every inch of water glistening like glass. The sky was mostly clear, and the heat was overwhelming, but I rejoiced in the light, the spray of the sea and the cool wind as a contrast rather than sharpenning of temperature. Freedom was such a precious thing, that even something as rationally simple as staying away from the sun except for twilight and sun rise can feel like a terrible imprisionment. And I knew that through this whole journey, the crew that now manned the <i>Bloody Banshee</i> - Jean (French), Joseph McKinley (Irish), Carbnato Squibbs (puertorrican), Robert (from Jamaica), Francis (from Haiti), Manolo Rivera (also puertorrican), Miguel (Spanish), Frank (English) and William McKracken (Scottish) - had grown, as I had, and were on our way back to Port Royal. I had managed to remain mostly a mistery to these fine gents, yet the bond formed by these permanent additions (there were other crew members that came and went as we traveled, such as our swabbie, our cook and the occasional local we picked up to better suit our navigational needs) was now a very strong one. Amongst each other they were like family, and, don't get me wrong, they felt like family to me also, but like a very big and important part of me was not shared. That is where this journey begins.

It was midnight, four years ago, near Sevilla, Spain. I stood, as I had grown more and more acostumed, alone. I stared at the moon - a quaint quarter-crescent - weighing me options. I was, ye could say, the Beta of the pack; closest to the Alpha but still following and taking orders. Our Alpha, I must say, was a tyrant; far more animal than human, his only goals often were to rip apart as many people as possible whenever our hunger and thirst afflicted us, and some moralist werewolves from our pack, while he was human, talked him into attacking only certain types of towns and people so that the Spanish militia and specially the inquisition stayed mostly, if not entirely off our backs. But of course, ye can only ravage towns and kill every human and most animals in them for so long untill ye run out of "just" places to attack and ye have to rethink the whole thing, as it were. Because, see, our hunger and thirst goes far deeper than any normal human's and it be part of what gives us our immortality, and as such, it never quite ends. So by the time we were near Sevilla, which has always been a gigantic city, the overwhelming lucidity of me conscience, even carried as a wolf, was leading me to think there must have been more for our kind. We can't have become children of the moon just to feed on humans, livestock and any animal we can catch, ordinary humans with a dirty little secret by day. We can't have come to existance just to feed like crazy, kill vampires and continue feeding and breeding.
And that was where me troubles stemmed from, and what led me to weighing certain options at the moment. The options in mind were: return to the pack and act normal untill the full moon, when we would be strongest, and challenge the Alpha - which was already Alpha when I got here - with the likeliness of winning and becoming leader of this pack of mostly old werewolves - some had been turned in the fifteenth century and talked or thought in ways that were at least anticuated even though by looks alone they could not be judged to be a day over twenty - and decide what to do with them from there; Run away now, while some stealth and me natural gift of enhanced speed and strength were at me disposal and flee inside one of the many, many ships that left port daily (for I knew that as far as I could run, so long as I was in this continent I was likely to run into them and some perhaps faster than I'd like) and make sure they didn't know I was aboard a ship until it were too late and they couldn't swim after me; or - and this one appealed to me very little but it could work - mix the two a bit: Fight some of the pack and when the members were wounded, or the pack weakenned due to some losses, run to the ships and stow away, and then seek speciffic ways to get to me homeland of Puerto Rico, where from I could seek some destiny in which I were free to do as I pleased.
--Eduardo. Te necesitamos. Ya vamos a atacar, y tu tienes que destruir las puertas de la ciudad (Edward. We need you. We're going to attack and you have to destroy the city gates)-- It was the youngest of the pack; the one always used to send messages. I almost felt sorry for the kid, but it was to late for option b, and option a was something I had no patience for, so option c it was. I smiled, me teeth, entirely canine due to the effects of the moon, glistened in the dim light, and I punched him in the stomach before he knew I was coming. I looked up and mustered all me rage and energy and transformed. Looking at his collapsed form from above on all fours was even abusive, but again, I had no time to fight fair. While still weak and fragile, I grabbed him by the neck with me teeth and shook me head as violently as I could, snapping his neck quite quickly and held down his head as well as the rest of his body with me front paws. I then pulled and ripped off his neck, which came off with a spray of blood that only lasted about a second and, spitting it out before the flesh became poisonous, I began to run as they would say in me little island: como alma que lleva el diablo (like a soul taken by the devil). In less time than thought possible by even the other wolves, I was at the gates. I circled to the first part of the wall that was devoid of people I found and jumped over the wall in two leaps: one to a tree, then over said wall. Once on the other side, I went back to human form, killed the first sailor I saw come out of a tavern (sorry mate, I needed yer clothes and had no time to waste) and disappeared into the city.
The next day I quickly looked around town for information on the ships, and would ya know, the first to set sail that mornin' was headed fer me little island! I talked to the captain of the ship and had everything ready to set sail with them - as a working sailor - and by noon we were out of port. I knew not what would happen to the city once I left, but with two losses to the pack, one more important than the other I daresay, they should be reconsidering if it be a good idea. I just knew then that I had make me life away from them. Even as members of me kind, I was still different, and there were two vampires partially responsible for that with which I needed to speak: me mum and dad.

Last edited by Cap'n Edward (2009-01-14 22:28:06)