Pirates of the Caribbean and Dru the Cruel.

By: Druscilla White

Writing Prompt: No

Date: 31st Aug 2021

The ship lilted into the sea, the crew heeding their captain’s call pulled the sails taut and adjusted their heading. Their calls, warning one another of whatever change had been ordered, echoed over the crash of the waves. The creak of the wood around them as the ship sailed true. The deck, soaked with rainwater and seawater, was slick beneath their boots but the years aboard kept them standing. The call came from the crows nest, “LAND! Starboard!” and the crew looked to their leader. What would she do?

Oh I smiled. The sea air felt glorious across my face, blowing my silvered hair. Years in the sun had fully removed whatever color my blond hair held. ”Tow that line!” I barked, peering through my scope. I moved to the helm, adjusting our course slightly. My crew fell in step with me, their loyalty earned after years at sea. I was a harsh captain, but I was also fair. No man went unrewarded for his service. Wherever we made berth, my men were well cared for. Tavern wenches never went wanting when my crew walked in. Nor did their pockets completely empty.

As we turned into the wind, our black sails billowing proudly, I sighed contentedly. Adjusted my hat and grinned, the gold in my teeth glimmering. There weren’t many female captains among the sealords, and I was the most feared. My crew was deemed the damned for we sailed ‘neath the colors black. Pirate colors. Owned by no one. Not even the trading companies could hold me. I had escaped under armed guard numerous times. I earned the name Druscilla the Cruel.

Story goes, I skinned a man alive for stealing from my crew.

Perhaps I had. His screams echoed into the dark abyss as I, maybe, flung his flayed body into the ocean, tied to a cannon.

Or maybe I left him in the brig to die a slow death.

The only people to know the truth would never tell.

”Drop anchor!” I barked again, as the island had formed in front of us. The sun was high in the sky, noon. The town had no idea what had just settled outside their quiet homes. Hell floated amidst the sea spray. The whip crack resounded as my first mate forced the sweeps into their duties. They stood at the capstan and began to push, lowering our anchor. Once it reached the ocean floor and latched, we went to work.

The crew lowered our dinghy’s into the waters and as I climbed down the ladder their voices hushed. I stood at the bow of the dinghy and we began to row. Like a freaky fog, we rolled into their wharf, keeping to the shadows. Not even the dock workers spotted us. We tied our boats off beneath the docks and hushedly relayed plans. I slipped into my coat, a once-fine thread black and gold hemmed coat. My sword at my side, flintlock tucked on my hip, I was almost ready. My first mate handed me my dagger, a beautiful stolen piece, decked with rubies and sapphires. I grinned again, spinning it in my hand before I tucked it into my boot.

He and I shared no words. We knew one another so completely we didn’t need to speak. I moved, and he knew exactly what I wanted done. He nitpicked a few details, the location of my dreads, the accents of dubloons and bone, even the red on my lips. Yes, he was my dearest friend, but this was not the time. I growled, softly, and he backed down. ”Now is not the time…” My voice was a hot, hushed whisper. He nodded and stepped behind me. “We take what we want…” ”And give nothing back!” My brother, Diesel, clomped through the shallow waters.

I took his hand and pulled myself out of the boat. This island was one we had not pillaged in years. Even though Diesel requested us to revisit constantly. I wondered if he had found a woman here, worthy enough for him to claim. He kept suich things to himself. Granted, he and I never discussed the ideals of romance. Not since he made judgement on the last man I kept in my bed. The scars across Diesel’s back were testament to my cruelty. Yes. I had my Quartermaster flog my twin. Only 10 lashes, nothing unheard of.

My word was law. Everyone aboard knew better than to question me, and Diesel had been my example.

We spread over the island like a plague, breaking into the villagers homes and taking whatever we deemed worthy. Gold. Gems. Jewelry. Swords. Guns. Gunpowder. Even food and drink. Anything. Even their women. Admittedly, we would drop them off the next time we made port, but while they were aboard, they were free game for whomever in my crew. Even the men. Abled bodied men were bound to our crew; usually working within the kitchens or amongst the sweeps. Wherever we needed men.

Yet, this visit to the island was thrown for a loop when a fiery hot blond woman confronted my brother with two children in tow. A girl and a boy. Both the spitting image of Diesel. Now this could get interesting. He didn’t skip a beat, he grabbed the blond and yanked her into a tight embrace, followed by picking up both children. ”Cela.. I missed you so much!” The woman, Cela, hauling a chest behind her, followed Diesel as he led her to where we had tied our boats.

”Diesel…” I grabbed his arm, jerking him backwards violently. ”A ship is no place for children…” I growled, only to have Diesel set the children down and draw on me. I countered. This was not the place for a fight, but it seemed he refused to bow to me. His insolence would be punished the moment we returned to our ship.

Swords clashed as I snarled at him, the woman shielded her children as we moved in unison, the minutes turning to hours. The sun had begun to set behind us. He and I deeply concentrated on one another. My crew had begun to return, their loot filling their arms but they stopped suddenly when they saw myself in battle with Diesel. Our swords clashed. Our tempers flared.

The precise back and forth, the counters, the lunges, the dodges; each one could be a mistake that would end badly for whomever misstepped. But finally, I gained the upper hand. The child called out for their father, obviously coached by the woman, dragging Diesel’s attention from me to them. I took advantage. I knocked the sword from his hand and grabbed the dagger from my boot, pinned him, blade to his throat. ”I said NO…”


I fell, dropping both my sword and dagger. My first mate ran to me but the blond woman stood over me. I snarled up at her. ”You will regret tha-…” She smirked, lambasting me with the bottle as it completely shattered in her hand. Knocking me out cold.

As I awoke, the sun bearing down on me, I rubbed my head. The throbbing was so powerful, I actually thought a percussion band had taken up residence inside. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the bright light. The blobs around me began to take shape, a patio door. A table, a few chairs… I was… I was home? What in the fuck?!

I checked my hand, no blood, but fuck my head hurt. It took me a moment to realize what had happened, or to assume what had happened. I vaguely remember smoking a blunt with Mama, and discussing the recent loss at Toxic Tag. She had suggested… something. What was it? Oh my head hurts…

I managed to stand, and weeble-wobbled back into my apartment. Someone was banging on my door, and maybe leaning on the doorbell? Ugh! Whoever this was, was going to fucking walk the plank!

A few minutes and I was able to open the door without the room spinning. Roscoe burst in. Terrified. ”I have called you for three days!!” A brow rose. “Excuse me?” He grabbed my shoulders and shook me a bit, the nausea came back. I swallowed hard.. He pulled me into a hug. ”Fuck I was worried Dru! Are you ok??” Oh… I was going to puke.. I heaved, he flew to the kitchen. ”What the fuck happened?? You dodged us at Hearst Tower… How did you get home? What happened? How the FUCK did you lose??” So many questions, I heaved again and whatever dignity I had came up and went down the drain with the measly amount of whatever had been in my stomach. Three days?I lost? Fucking Asher, I’d skin him alive… I skipped out on Roscoe and D? What the fuck happened? That was the most fucked up dream I had ever had in my life… It was a dream.. Right?

Then it hit me…

Mama. This had her name written all over it. Plus, she “happened” to not be here when I woke up… What had she done for three days? Fuck that, what had she done to knock me out?

Mama was in big fucking trouble…