A flash fiction piece I did. Please give your opinions.
The Ship Captain's Tale.
The scantily clad wench drops off another tankard of ale and
the sound of the wood vessel striking the table has a calming influence on the
grungy captain. His snarl turns to a smirk of somewhat resembling joy. With a
quick jerk the captain throws back the container and quaffs down the beverage
then wipes his lips clean with his sullied shirt sleeve. Sitting across the
table is a much more fashionable gent in a tailored suit sipping at a glass of wine
his manicured hand gently supports the decorative stemware.
They have met
according to agreement; it is the thirteenth day of the month thirteen years
since their first and only other meeting. The captain's fate rests on the
outcome of this seemingly mundane get-together. To those looking in, they are
merely two men, oddly paired as it was, sharing drinks, but to the players it
is far more significant than that. The captain's life, nay, his very soul rests
in the balance and he fears as to which way the balance is tipping.
Over the next hour and half the elegant gentleman recounts
callous tales of murder, rape and theft. He spins a yarn about a ship captain
so vile and unwholesome, the very souls of his victims tremble even at the idea
of haunting the captain's vessel. The disheveled captain continues to throw
back ale after ale, occasionally peering around the room for some sign of hope,
all the while he remains fixed on every word spoken by his companion.
When after the gentleman spoke his last syllable he reaches
down and takes hold of a case at his feet.
Slipping the clasp open he pulls out a copy of Liber Urbani, or otherwise known as The Book of the Civilized Man and begins to now read quietly to the
slightly inebriated seaman, though the sailor's aloof demeanor begins to fade
along with the remainder of his sobriety.
The once mighty sea captain begins to sob and beg for pity
but the gentleman has none and reminds the captain of the accord they made this
day thirteen years prior. The captain did not heed the warning and in his mind
now sees the scales come crashing down.
He jolts to a stance and heaves the table to the side as he throws
himself to the feet of his besieger. Weeping uncontrollably he is told for his
insurrections the watery depths of the underworld have not yet fantasized about
what damnation will befall him.
The distinguished gentleman takes hold of the captain's
shirt sleeve and drags him towards the door, the gentleman turns and remarks, "You
were given do and timely notice that I was to return. I warned you my good man,
but you decided not to heed those words. It is too late for apologize and
tears, that time has long since come to pass. Do not cry Captain Jones, for you
are about to get what you have always wanted."