In Imptula there were many legends of ghost ships, crewed by long dead sailors and cursed to sail eternally for some horrendous deed. One in particular though was much more based in fact.
The Sky Spearken was known to always change appearance from sighting to sighting, but a few things stayed consistent across every occurrence. The name would be scrawled across the sides of the ship, blotting out whatever name had been there before. The crew would be corpses in various stages of decay, still performing the tasks they had in life. And the figurehead (if there were one) would be hacked off, with the captain's decomposing body lashed to the prow in its place.
Many people theorized that the Sky Spearken was not a ghost ship at all, but rather many ships that had befallen the same fate. Perhaps there was more than one at any given time and the reason the specifics were always different was because it wasn't the same ship at all. Perhaps it was a shape-shifting creature that only appeared to be a ship and crew. Perhaps it was a curse that plagued the open ocean and would claim new victims at random. Perhaps it was just the work of necromancer pirates. But everyone could agree, whatever the cause, they hoped to never meet the dreaded vessel.
In the aftermath of the actual sea monster it was named for, Juubilee was willing to seek aid even from a haunted ship. Yes, she decided with a shivering gulp, even one whose figurehead was the mangled remains of a fresh victim.
(okay, the figurehead actually didn’t make it into the part because it got too long. I was able to imply, but this will happen in tomorrow’s piece along with escape attempt. Sorry!!)
For @amonthofwhump‘s Water Whump May, where I write a part of this story every day according to the prompt. 1500 words and we didn’t even get to the point, y’all. This is what my life has come to since the beginning of the month when my goal was <1000 each day.
Tag list: @spiffythespook, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @insanitywishes, @whumpingonarainyday
Content warnings: sinking in quicksand, dislocated joint (again oops)
Llyr glanced around himself, feeling the sand shift and squish below his feet. It took him a few more seconds to realize he was sinking alarmingly quickly into it, but the panic only set in when he realized-
He couldn’t pull his feet out.
He started with trying to lift his feet to calmly and carefully step up, but the thin layer of sand they were trapped under was more akin to a brick. The sand was up to his ankles now, and he struggled against its grip, jumping and wiggling back and forth only to sink further and faster. Whining in terror, he tried to move with as much force as possible, whatever it would take to get out of whatever this was supposed to be.
“Llyr! Don’t struggle, please, just calm down,” Ray said, but it was so far away and his problem was right here because he was still sliding down as the sand sucked him in like a gaping hole. It was cold underneath the surface, and it only seemed to harden more securely around his legs the longer he was under. “It’s quicksand! The more you struggle, the faster you sink!”
That caught his attention, and he looked up to see Ray across from him, waving frantically with his bound arms.
“You gotta get out of there. Lean back, Llyr, that’ll help I promise.” It strained against the arms holding it back, obviously wanting to help. Under the surface thoughts of sheer terror and panic, Llyr wondered what it could have even done to help him. If it had stepped forward, they would have been stuck in the patch together, which was even worse.
He did try to lean back like Ray said, figuring it had to be better than nothing, and it nearly worked when he felt his feet shifting the sand up, but a hand pushed him back up straight.
“None of that. You’re staying right where you are,” Gawain said, “unless you’d like to see him hurt as well.”
Llyr looked back up at Ray, straining against the person holding it, and looking more distressed with every centimeter he sank. It was nearly up to his knees now, constricting so tightly it felt like his legs would stop working. Gawain leaned down to where his eye level was now, and whispered in his ear
“On second thought, this is already torture enough for him, isn’t it?” It laughed, straightening back up. He only glared, trying to keep up the facade of defiance.
However, Llyr’s hands were still held above his head as instructed, too frightened to move them down, and Gawain took hold of the left one in a tight grip. It held it steady below the cuff and took one of the hooks still dangling down from the boat. For a horrifying moment, Llyr was sure it was about to be shoved straight through his palm.
Gawain hooked it right underneath the shackle instead, but the sharp metal still scraped his wrist as it was pushed through the small space, sending warm blood dribbling down his arm. It did the same with the other, the two thick ropes now suspending his hands above his head.
“Why- what are those for?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.
“When you’ve served your full punishment, those are going to help pull you out. Unless you’d rather be left to suffocate in the sand, of course.” it said.
“But... uh, my shoulders…”
“Yes, what about those? They’ll be fine, I’m sure,” it said so seriously that it was nearly infuriating.
“The last time they did this, they- it came out of place. It might do that again,” he cringed, feeling the pull as he kept sinking, but the ropes were too slow in giving slack. The sand climbed over his thighs, and he couldn’t help the panicked, hitching breaths that started to override his attempted calm demeanor.
“They? Who’s done this to you before? Has someone else caught you stealing, brat?”
“I didn’t,” he insisted again, unwilling to give in to the man’s lie, “but… but Hugh, he um, he hurt me and- and he did that.”
“Did he now…” it turned away from where he was still sinking down and down into the earth, instead focusing on Hugh. It’d been quiet the whole time, expression split between smug satisfaction at his punishment, and frustration at being held in chains. It frowned, now, nervous as the captain approached.
“He was gonna steal from us, and I had to stop the dumb thing,” Hugh explained, already anticipating the question and rolling his eyes. “So no, he didn’t trick us, but he sure hurt someone else for that fancy ass cloak he’s got on.”
Gawain turned around, looking at Llyr properly for perhaps the first time since it’d found him. Its eyes looked down what was left showing of his figure, with the quicksand still claiming his thighs and freezing his entire lower body in its grasp.
“Hmm, would you prefer to do the honors then?” it asked, looking back at Hugh.
“Honors? What’re you talking about?”
“No effective punishment would allow the recipient to die,” Gawain said, as if its point was already obvious. “I’m asking you to help knock him loose when it’s time to get him out. Whichever way you please, as retribution for him getting such a respectable man as yourself wrapped up in this.”
“Oh. Oh! Gotcha. Yeah, ‘course, my pleasure,” it grinned.
Gawain left Hugh over there with a guard who removed the chain on its ankle cuffs and walked it over.
“Hmm, fancy cloak indeed. Wonder what poor man you took this off of- oh and look at that. A hole. Some thief you are, damaging whatever you can get your hands on. I should hope there aren’t any weak links in my locket, now, for your sake…” it examined the cloak, which reached down his back and was now brushing the quicksand, nearly being engulfed by it. “I’ll take that for you. Would be a shame if such a well crafted item went to waste.”
“Hey- no!” Llyr shouted, leaning away when it reached for the sealskin around his neck, but he could only wriggle so far. The sand pulled him faster as he struggled, and Gawain was able to unfasten the cloak from his neck and pull it away anyway. “No!! Give it- give- please, I need that!!” He screamed and shouted as it handed his cloak off to a crewman, muttering something before turning back.
A brat indeed,” it scoffed. “The only person that needs this cloak is whoever you stole it from, and I’m sure we’ll be able to find them as soon as we’re back on the mainland.”
He wanted to shout exactly why he needed that cloak, that it really was his and that they had no right to take it from him, but they’d never believe that. He wept as the sand crept over his hips and the possession his entire identity revolved around was taken from him. The human with it rounded a corner back into the ship and disappeared from sight.
“No, no!! ...no, no nonono--” Llyr cried, despair setting in. They ignored him.
“Hugh, loosen him up. My men only need the signal and we’ll lift him out,” it said, and he saw Hugh stride in front of him, just around the puddle of quicksand he was sinking into.
It obeyed without another word, flashing a grin before pulling back its leg and kicking right into Llyr’s gut. The pain was instantaneous and blunt, forcing out a shout as it pushed the air from his lungs. He doubled over, but the leg came to his side, kicking out again and again all around him. Bruising force pushed him against the sand around him, moving it and pulling him down faster.
“What are you doing?! Stop it, sto-!” Hugh kicked him right beneath the ribs and he screamed, the heat and hurt spiking as he doubled over, struggling to breathe. The beating didn’t stop, but Llyr did notice the strain building back up on his shoulders. It took him a moment to notice the hooks in his shackles were pulling him up now, their only leverage being his wrists.
He didn’t actually move up at first, and for a terrible moment, he was being stretched too far, pulled up by the insistent ropes and back down by the sand he was stuck fast in and he couldn’t breathe and there were still kicks rocking him back and forth endlessly.
Then he felt the sand spread apart as he started moving up with the hooks. Through eyes blurred with tears in dizziness, he could see Ray still struggling in front of him, shouting and pulling against the arms holding it in place.
“Lift from his chest! He just told you about his shoulder, it’s gonna-” Llyr’s scream cut him off, and the pain was worse this time when his shoulder came out. The ropes didn’t stop lifting, even when he writhed and shrieked from where he hung in midair, mindless with the pressure tearing him apart. He didn’t even notice he was out when Gawain walked slowly around him, observing his agony with a careful eye.
“Please! Ple-ease lemme down, please it h-hurts!” Llyr cried, twitching and kicking, trying to find solid ground that was just far enough away.
“Hm,” Gawain hummed dismissively, turning to Ray. “Take that one below deck, and the other to the crew quarters. I’ll get the thief to the bow for his good night’s rest.”
