It had felt like an eternity anticipating for the perfect instant to strike as the male abode under the darkness of the luminous moon. He concealed himself behind crates that were stacked up towards the sky. The crates were ostensibly larger than the bushes around the small village he called home, St. Pierre. Anticipation filled his veins as he aboded for a merchant boat shipping perfume, smokes, and rum to come into the small, wooden dock that was over the dormir sea.

The lone pirate was about to rob his first merchant ship and he couldn't wait. As he tiptoed inaudibly towards the petite frame dock, he detected the water lap against the old, boarded dock. His vivid purple eyes shot towards a raggedy ship that lazily pulled itself to the dock. He endured in the darkness around the old dock there he would anticipate for the perfect moment to strike.

Everyone fantasized about becoming a feared pirate at some point; however, he won't let his dream just be a dream. His name would shudder off even the bravest sailor's lips if he were to pull this off. Furthermore, he was about to make his impression on the history of the humble town. All the male ever wanted to achieve was to become an esteemed pirate amidst the pirates who were drinking their lazy butts off with the bar's rum. Although he was supposed to be working the bar and vending rum, he heard about the merchant ship from a sailor named Edward and his anticipation soared. He had been preparing for this night for what felt like decades; furthermore, his blood boiled in anticipation as he couldn't wait to make his imprint.

The merchant boat pulled into the harbor. There was only one guard, and many of the men’s eyes were wide in fear.

"Do you believe we are being followed?"

Followed? The male queried as he wiped his medium golden-blond hair out of his face and settled against the raw waterlogged soil. His black-gloves gathered dirty soil all over.  

"Hopefully not. I blaspheme if we get mugged by one of those intoxicated pirates, I'll cut someone's throat."

"What if that one pirate....?"

"Shhhh! His name is a curse around here." The dark voice hissed with intent. “We HAVE to get these packages to our boss.” 

“I...I know…!” the voice quipped and silence began to speak between the two of them. The conversation began to die as the male shrunk within the eerie somberness of the night. 

The male hid behind anything he managed to find, ANYTHING to get closer to his dream of becoming a real pirate. This would change everything for him. He would FINALLY be someone he wanted to be. 

His inky blacks and embeds of camouflage weren’t him, but under the darkness of the night, it would work. He usually wore vivid purples and expressive blues; furthermore, anything that he finds that would charm the local ladies.

The male seized a rock off the ground and clutched it tightly in his delicate palm. He didn't possess a sword yet since he wasn't considered 'manly enough'. He snorted at all those annotations and narrowed his optics although he would ponder and ponder over what they were snorting were true. He would show them that they were incorrect and then he would be considered 'manly' in their eyes; furthermore, they would HAVE to grant him a sword at half price for being wrong. 

A sword was supposedly a trusted weapon a pirate had and if he had a sword, he was considered ready to have the title pirate. Excitement flooded through his veins as he glanced down at the earthy surface. A dark-gray rock all hard and crusted managed to find itself in his vision. 

Perfect. 

He thrust the rock as far as he could. Watching the rock felt like that was his old, boring life was leaving him and now he was taking the first breath into his new life. The rock circumnavigated across the ashy sky and crash-landed by the guard's feet. The guard gazed off in the boy's direction as the male tried to cover himself in the murkiness of the dark. He heard muttering coming from a guard, which the male contemplated whether he should run or not as the guard proceeded towards him imperceptibly. The golden-blond male squeezed himself against the mud, holding his breath. He hated the oozing mud as he pressed his whole body down into the surface, trying not to come off as a person; however, the earthy ground.

"A rock- I think someone threw it. I didn't kick it up, plus it wasn't here before," a gruff voice growled; attempting to piece collectively where the rock could've come from.

"Go investigate then," a shrill pitched voice answered in response to what the gruff male had growled. “I don’t wanna go investigate.”

"Fine, I will. Probably some feeble-minded animal."

"Or a trespasser. Do you think it's him?"

"No," the man growled. "Hold up-'' the male overheard a sword striking against a belt and then the wind shrieked as it was sliced in half. "I'll dice the creature with my sword then."

The crewmate laughed. "Have fun. I'm going to go investigate to make sure the goods are obeying well." And the footsteps bellowed, quickly descending the harbor. 

Seconds passed. Minutes passed. And what seemingly felt like hours passed before the male pushed himself back into his crouched position, his ears open for any sort of sound that could alert him to the guards. 

The male stayed withdrawn as he analyzed for footsteps but he couldn't. He didn't detect anything that could give away where the guard's location was and he panicked softly.

Maybe he wasn't ready for all this adrenaline.

Maybe the pirates were right; furthermore, maybe he wasn't ready for all of this. But did he really wanna go back to serving and being made fun of? 

The male got up off the ground and dusted himself off; mud clenched itself to his outfit while a frown painted itself onto his soft, rosy lips. He sighed, turning away from the merchant ship.

He was no pirate. He was just a male who would earn a living selling rum to pirates and being laughed at.

He halted as he heard something thud the harbor carefully, which caught his attention. He spun around on his heels quickly and peeked out from behind a massive object hiding him from view.

There was a man on the floorboards of the deck, lying as still as a statue. The male hopped daringly out from behind the object and raced quickly towards the man. His legs kept going and going; however, his heart was in a state of disquietude. As the male approached the man, he noticed that his sword was on the ground and his eyes were open, terrified. He wore a dirty pirate outfit while the male felt the man's cold, lackluster neck, which revealed no pulse to the male's luck. He slid his finger over the man's neck as scarlet stained his hands.

His hand shot away as if he had touched a surface that was steaming to the core. He came to the startling conclusion that the man's neck possessed a giant, straight cut. After seeing that, the male's eyes lit up in despair. He wiped the blood on his camo pants repeatedly although there wasn't any physical sign of scarlet finding themselves on his hands. His stomach turned at the sight; however, his curiosity kept him going.

He raced across the dock, his heart beating, pounding like a drum. His heart’s volume peaked onto the merchant's vessel to the point that was all he heard. 

The vessel looked like a deadly plague wiped everything out. There were no signs of people until he stepped onto the boat. Bodies upon bodies littered athwart the ship's level, making it feel like a graveyard. Their optics were open with sheer terror written all over their faces as their necks sliced cleanly open, in a sharp, perpendicular line. Just like the male on the dock. 

The male seized one of the pirates' swords from one of their belts and felt the hilt in interest. Even though this wasn’t the sword he had imagined he would wield, it would work for now. His eyes glimpsed around, searching the graveyard and landed on an exposed hatch. A thin line painted itself onto his face as he began to race towards it and went down the old, crooked wooden ladder that moaned in pleasure as he stepped. A ladder board snapped crankily as the male caught himself before he could plummet towards the ground. 

“That was close…” he breathed to himself as he let go of the cranky ladder that had rudely snapped at him. 

He ventured down into the lower floor, the eeriness crept down and followed him from the top layer, it reminded him of a ghost town. The male tiptoed through the emptied ship and smelt the strong scent of French vanilla. He raced quickly and heard a loud shatter, his head veered down towards the ground, and noticed a small French perfume bottle, small crystals shattered like snow on a cold, winter day. Empty boxes were tipped over and the only trace of anything being there was the small glass shards. 

"This ship would've been for nothing..." whined the frustrated teen who criss crossed his arms. This was supposed to be his vessel he was going to rob and now...? It had been robbed right before his eyes. His dream was torn from him as he trotted towards the ladder. 

What a waste of time…