Tales of The Black Frieghter: A Story Told

Now keep in mind that I am not the greatest with names of characters/places. Other than that I would just like to say that this is shorter than I could have made it for the simple fact that I don't think people would read it if it were too long. Other than that enjoy my entry into the Black Freighter FanFic Contest.

The Tale of The Black Freighter

Tell tale signs of debauchery flooded the street in this little corner of the port. Around each corner was something more stomach turning than the last and it was enough to make even the most hardened of men think twice before letting their guard down. Rape and thievery were the norm down by the docks and one can never be too careful. Within one of the lit up windows a tale was about to take place the likes of which had never been heard before and after this night would never be told again.

Within the Drunken Wench Tavern there sat a man who everyone knew by sight but no one knew by name. He had come into the tavern every night for nearly 12 years and had done nothing but stare out the window and drink his ale. The bar keep had thought about throwing him out, for he unnerved some of the other regulars you see, but whenever a brawl broke out in the tavern the man that had no name would be the first to draw his sword and glare at any who would dare make a move. At first there were a few who took his challenge, but were quickly and savagely cut down.

Now everyone in the tavern was closely associated with death, they were almost all paid for their skills in this ancient art. Yet no one had seen the likes of this man with no name before. He did not just cut them down, he hacked them to pieces. He tore into their flesh with his blade and smiled as fountains of blood washed over him. Needless to say the Drunken Wench did not see many brawls after that.

But this night was not like every other night. For you see this night, a stranger entered the tavern who seemed to be seeking out this man with no name. Many would hear the conversation that was about to transpire (the tavern was not at all very big) and none would ever forget it.

‘Hello sir,’ said the stranger, ‘I believe you are the man I am looking for. I come in search of one Henry of Warickshire, or Black Henry as he was later called. He is said to be the sole survivor of the Black Freighter.’

At the mention of the Black Ship of Legend everyone within earshot went deathly silent. Those who did not hear were quickly told and they too went as silent as the grave. All eyes were on the man with no name, the man who had been a patron of their tavern for over 10 years and who none had dared approach, until now.


‘Aye. I be he who you call Black Henry. I go by n’otha name an’ will cut ye down where ye stand if ye utter any other names to me.’ Said the man with no name, Black Henry.

Now it seemed that the whole world had gone quiet. Not a sound could be heard by anyone within the Drunken Wench but the breathing of these two men. One man who they all believed to be surely dead within minutes, and one that had gained the respect and fear a hundred fold of every man in the room.

‘Sir I know you have hidden awa…’

At this the Black Henry was on his feet faster than anyone in the room could react with his blade biting into the skin of the stranger’s neck. Everyone in the room held their breath and the stranger but his arms out wide in fear.

‘I don’t be hiding from any living thing on this bloody earth and to say different is to invite a quick death on yer own head!’ shouted Black Henry in the face of the stranger.

‘F-forgive me sir for my m-mistake. W-what I meant to say was that you have been living here for many years away from those who may have recognized you for who you truly are. I am a simple story teller sir. P-please forgive my mistake.’ Whispered the stranger, all the while with the blade of Black Henry cutting into his flesh.

Slowly Black Henry with drew his blade and called for another drink. Everyone in the room seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief and eventually the bar keep gained enough wits to quickly bring Black Henry his ale.

‘So story teller. I can only assume ye be here for the story of the final day of the Black Freighter. That fateful day when the greatest pirate ship or murderers, rapist and thieves came to its fateful end. Is this what ye want to hear teller of tale tales.’ Muttered Black Henry.

‘Y-y-yes please sir. If it s-suits you to do so.’ Stuttered the stranger, who may need a new pair of trousers.

‘Aye I will tell you of that fateful day all those years ago. I suppose I need to tell the story to someone for it cannot die with me. The Black Freighter had just successfully raided a trading ship and killed everyone on board. Everyone except one unfortunate soul we left alive.’

‘That was our way you see. We were young and foolish, filled with hate and malice for everyone other than ourselves. We thought we were the untouchable kings of the sea. We were all killers born and bred, and we were on top of the world. Leaving one behind to either slowly die or to live and tell the tale of the fearsome Black Freighter.’

‘But on that final day, a creature of pure hatred and death came aboard our ship the likes of which this world has never seen. It was a creature driven to madness and destruction looking for one thing, the death of every living soul aboard our ship. At first sight the man made us all laugh. In our ignorance we merely dismissed him as a madman who would make good sport for whoever stood up to face him.’

‘However it was soon apparent that what had crawled aboard our ship was no longer a man, but a bringer of death.’

Black Henry stopped to take a drink of his ale and soon he realized that every single pair of unblinking eyes had fallen on him. One quick glare around the room had everyone turning their eyes back to their drink and company yet not one person in the place uttered a word for fear of missing something of this incredible tale.

‘Anyways, one of the greatest pirates to plague these seas walked up to this man and needless to say he was full of confidence and pride. Never before have I seen someone so quickly over powered with pure hatred and rage. The guttural cry that came from the depths of that mans soul still haunts my dreams. We all drew swords and everyone charged at this man who had killed our friend and ship mate.’

‘It did not matter how many of us came at him he cut us down without remorse. Ye may be wondering how I was not cut down with the rest, well I was. I was stabbed through my shoulder and thrown over board to die with the sharks. Luckily my good arm caught hold of the ropes on the side of the ship and I was saved from the deep depths of the sea. But the others aboard were not so lucky…’

‘I could hear the screams of dying men the likes of which I had only heard during the bloodlust of a full on battle. This one man was killing my men while I was helpless and bleeding into the sea. I looked up and blood was flowing over the sides of the ship. With each wave a fresh body part would fall into the sea. Finally, after what seemed like days the screaming stopped.’

Black Henry continued to drink his ale and stare out the window of the Drunken Wench as if looking for something. No one said a word for many minutes until finally the stranger worked up the courage to utter a single sentence.

‘W-what h-happened next, sir?’

Black Henry seemed to come out of a trance and look back to the story teller like a man drained of all life and hope.

‘I could hear him laughing… an ear piercing sound full of hatred and blood. His laughter seemed to go on forever. I still hear it from time to time. It haunts me. I drifted in and out of wakefulness before coming to my senses enough to crawl back onto the ship. It was days later and the stench of dying bodies nearly killed me. Never before I have I witness a scene such as what I witnessed that day. Bodies in pieces. The pieces thrown around and positioned as if the creature of death took his time with my crew mates. It was clear he enjoyed every minute of it.’

‘Eventually I decided to burn the ship rather than have some pissant official from the main land finding the mighty Black Freighter in such a manner. I burned my friends floating tomb and took a life raft back to shore.’

‘So what happened to the man sir? Where did this creature of death go?’ whispered the stranger.

‘Oh,’ said Black Henry, ‘Didn’t I mention... one of the other life rafts was missing.’

Black Henry seemed to drift away at this moment. It was clear that the stranger had exhausted him, and that no more information would be forth coming this day. After a few moments of reflection, the stranger stood up and made to leave the tavern. At the door was a hooded man who had not been there when the stranger entered. He had not said a word and no one had noticed him enter while Black Henry was spinning his tale.

Black Henry let out a gasp and all eyes followed his gaze to the hooded man. All that could be seen under the hood was a sinister smile; all that was heard was the man's terrible unearthly laugh….