"The Price of Vengeance"
Thirteen months later…
The dry Marrakech heat was a stark contrast to the climate I had found myself in just over a year ago in the Aztec tomb beneath the Arctic.
Likewise, my current safety was at odds with the peril I faced during that godforsaken quest.
My new companion, Captain Rum, and I strolled though the bustling marketplace with purpose.
"Ye believe ye'll find yer backstabbers here, eh?" asked the short, gnarled man who had been kind enough to grant me use of his ship and crew during my search for vengeance.
"Aye, Rum," I said, keeping a wary eye out for Nasty Ann and her bodyguard Ronald.
We moved like sharks through a sea of mad shoppers, potential pickpockets, and conniving merchants. We sought bigger prey than them.
"They kill off every member of their crew from every ship they sail on," I said to Rum. "So that I have no leads to follow. They spread lies and ill-rumours about me, so that no pirate will trust me."
"Except those of us who owe you their lives, eh?" said Rum with a wink, reminding me of that incident in the Orient with the stone giants.
I smiled and patted his shoulder at the memory. We said at the time, "One day we'll look back on this and laugh," despite being in mortal danger, but I didn't believe it then. Funny how these things work out.
"That blasted gold-whore and her ape have also told the Royal Navy where my office is," I said. "I'm going to need a new headquarters and nympho secretary."
"They truly have made your life difficult to live, sir," said Rum.
"Rum, me old chum, there ain't no such thang as an 'easy life'. But I had something close. And those bastards took it from me. But this more than just my personal revenge… So much more…"
"Aye," said Rum, "you never finished that story. How did ye get out of that tricky situation? You stopped telling me suddenly, as if to build suspense, and now a whole week has gone by."
I gestured to a nearby café and we both took seats.
"That, Captain, is the best part of the story…"
Flashback!
"Well, Coughlan, it looks as though the Aztecs aren't too particular who they extract their revenge from," said Nasty Ann.
Hellfist's headless body kept a firm, undead grasp around my neck, with my feet swinging wildly off the ground as it choked the life out me.
"I do believe Ronald and I shall take advantage of this opportunity and escape. Ta-ta!"
They made for the door, but I managed to cough out, "I'll… come for you, Marinov… I swear it… Even if… all the sinners in Hell… should block my path… my sole will rest on your face before my soul rests in eternity!"
Ann grinned like a bitch (and not the good kind), amused by my predicament. "Yes, I suppose you might, given your reputation. Rest assured, Coughlan, even if you get out of this in some unimaginable, impossible way, I shall make your life unbearable.
"Your name will be sullied. First off, we shall tell the crew that you tried to kill Ronald and I for the non-existent treasure. In our fighting, the temple fell down around us, trapping you and the 'treasure' within. We fled just in time.
"After that, we shall spread tales of your duplicity to all pirates in the sea, and tell the authorities where to find you in future.
"So you see, Coughlan, you'd really be better off in Hell. At least there you could get a steady job."
"Yeah," I croaked. "Wiping your mother's mouth after she sucks the Devil's dick every morning!"
Ann didn't rise to the insult, and stopped Ronald from doing so.
"According to the map, this door cannot be opened from within," said Ann. "So you'll have a long wait, no matter what. Oh, we'll keep this location a secret, don't you worry about that."
They finally left, and the door did indeed seal itself shut after them.
With the darkness already threatening my vision, I frantically searched my pockets for Hellfist's dagger. Retrieving the blade, I plunged into the corpse's heart and it released me.
"Ha!" I declared, having regained my breath. "Ann's cutlass didn't work because you need the victim's own weapon to undo the sacrificial magic." I'm sure you don't need me to explain the science any further.
The body fell to the ground in a soundless fit of agony and stopped dead. Again.
I took in this momentary victory. "Okay. I'm still trapped."
"It's worse than that, my boy…" said a ghostly, very distinctive voice.
I turned toward its source only to see an apparition appear before me. It was a transparent image of an tall, thin, moustachioed elderly gentleman. Who was also Vincent Price.
"Vincent Price!" I declare to audience applause.
"Correct," he said in validation. "Have a cookie." He offered me one.
"I will, sir!" I took the cookie and ate it with gusto. "But what are you doing in a thousand-year-old Aztec temple?"
"Oh, just stopping by on my travels through the unknown," said Vincent. "Plus, I have information important to you. Information from the spirit world." He arched his eyebrow and ominous music played.
"Go on."
"Stabbing the headless corpse of Captain Hellfist will only delay a terrible fate -- the destruction of the whole planet!"
"What!? How did we get to that so fast?"
"This is the Vault of the Gods, my boy, and they do not tolerate robbers," said Vincent with a grave severity to his tone. Actually, he said everything like that.
"But… All they have is souls here--"
"Treasures beyond the material!" interrupted Vincent.
"Yes, yes, I get that," I replied. "But nobody stole anything."
"On the contrary. Hellfist was murdered in here by his shipmates, and the souls of all the sacrificed Aztecs possessed his body. All of his body."
"Good God," I gasped. "The head…"
"Precisely. Ann took the head as a 'trophy' out of pride, but in doing so, she may have doomed the entire world!" He arched his eyebrow to music again.
"Are you saying that the Aztec gods will seek retribution on all the Earth for this?"
"Yes! They are far to lazy to differentiate between our mortal forms, and they have bigger things to get on with than our follies."
"But they'll still destroy six billion people to get at just two thieves?"
"Listen, there's a reason the Aztecs never made it to the Moon, okay? Their gods aren't exactly top drawer.
"You need to return the head to this temple before the next eclipse all we are all doomed! Well, except me. I'm a ghost. Or am I?" Again with the eyebrow music.
"Well, how do I get out in the first place?" I asked.
Vincent waved his ghostly hand and the door was opened.
"Take this." He handed me a fancy gold bracelet.
I sneered. "Not much one for man-bling."
"When you have Hellfist's head, simply press the large jewel on the band and you will be returned here. You can only use it once…"
"Of fucking course I can only use it once.
"Listen, they're gonna be miles away by now. Can't you transport me there?"
"Before the next eclipse…" said Vincent as he faded away into the ether, leaving my perfectly justifiable question unanswered.
Present!
"…and then I fashioned a ship out of ice with my bare hands and sailed to Norway before it melted," I finished.
"And then you hitched a lift to me in Ireland," said Rum, nodding along.
"It wasn't easy." I leaned back and sipped my orange juice. "By then, Ann had already spread my false reputation. There were few who would take me.
"Since then I've used my detective skills to track down Nasty Ann and Ronald. That too proved difficult, considering that they abandoned the Crimson Wake as soon as they could.
"But now you tell me your sources say they make to purchase a new ship in Marrakech. So here I am, in search of revenge for what they did to me, and to save the world from annihilation. And I still won't get paid afterwards."
Rum took a long puff from his pipe then set it down on the table. "I'm sorry, John."
I frowned, confused. "Rum?"
"They're not here at all… She… She made me lure you here… She had me wife…"
The air suddenly became cool around me. "What have you done, man?" I asked quietly.
"The whole marketplace is crawling with bounty hunters," said Rum, eyes full of regret. "Looking for you. They think you're a pirate-killer, and won't believe a word you say."
Before I could react to this new-sprung trap, a pistol was placed at either side of my head.
I carefully glanced about to see I was surrounded as far as my eyes could see by scores of men aiming guns at me. Bounty hunters. Pirate bounty hunters -- they're much worse.
Worse still, the one on my right (my least action-ready side) was an old enemy of mine.
"Jamaican Jim," I acknowledged. "Good to see you again."
"Likewise," said the grisly murderer. It was a small joke. You see, during our last encounter, Jim lost both his eyes because of me. He now wore patches over the two of them, and yet was still the deadliest marksman in the Seven Seas.
I felt that cold, wet feeling lesser men call fear as I asked, "What happens now?"
"Dunno," said Jim. He drew back the hammer on his pistol. "You'll have to let me know."
To be continued…
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