the island

The captain was always a calm man even in the worst storm, but tonight he wish he was never a sailor. Something is not right with this storm. They left the island this morning in the sight of a clear sky and calm water, but now the giant mass of wood and sails is rocking back and forth in this saltwater hell. Last night's storm was one of a kind. Out of season, vicious, but kind enough to lead them to the island. The old cabin they spent the night was miraculously made for all 30 of them, with a room on the second floor for the captain. It could once be a library he thought, a room with a big window facing the sea with countless of ageing books and journals neatly placed in dusty racks. His heart was easy last night, but he know something is not right about this second storm. This is not the worst storm he ever had. This is just the same one as yesterday.

"Captain!! North-east!!!"

He brings out his spyglass under the pouring water, and the sight of the cabin lay upon him. Two seconds was enough to break his mind. Was his eyes playing a trick on him or what he see is the actual truth? He put down the spyglass and curse at fate. The faces of his crews tells him that they won't pass this raging beast tonight. Is the storm bringing them back in a circle? Or the ship had never actually leave the shore? He never wanted to know the answer but he know that his 30 mates are not gonna be at the bottom of the sea tonight.

"That fucking island! We're going back to that cunt!" his voice is calm but his heart is as troubled as the sea that is strangling the life out of the ship.

"Prepare your swords my mates. All of them. The library I slept, I swear by the seven gods there's a woman waving at me from the window"