Another Story

This is another story, I wrote it some months ago. This one is a bit long so I'll post it in two parts, tell me if you liked it and if you're interested in reading the rest of it. Comments are welcome. 
(Note: the names of characters, places, ships as well as the legend, are all fictional)

The Howling Hades

By Nigel Elfleda (all rights reserved)

Jefferson stepped out of the car, took his small luggage bag out of the trunk and walking towards the port, turned around and said “Thank you!” to the driver with a smile that showed off his white teeth, making his smile more like a grin or rather a sneer. He was wearing a white shirt with rolled up sleeves, and a bluish gray pair of pants, dark brown leather shoes and a leather belt of the same color. He stopped near the small shipyard for a minute to look around; the port was small but crowded, yet its being crowded didn’t reduce its tranquility. Despite the great number of fishermen and sailors coming and going, there wasn’t much noise, as if every one had learned to do their jobs without shouting or yelling, Jefferson thought that this must be because most of them were local people who had known each other since they were children and their fathers and grandfathers knew each other in the same fashion.

            But it seemed that not all of the people gathered there were locals; there were some tourists wandering around and taking photos of the old and beautiful Port Calvin, and some of them heading towards the local restaurant “The Seven Seas”, famous for its delicious seafood. Jefferson glanced at his watch; it was a quarter to two pm. He was hungry but there were things to do first; that was his attitude whenever he wanted to do something: to him work was prior to everything else.

            There were a bunch of people standing near an old fisherman, talking to him, however he didn’t seem very interested in the conversation and soon turned his back on them and began minding his own business taking a few items out of a big wooden box and examining it, then he gave orders to two men who were standing near him to board the box on his crab boat, all the while ignoring the people around him. They lingered around for a few minutes and then walked away. “Reporters” Jefferson thought, it was obvious to him that they were reporters; he knew the type very well, in fact he had known the type through out his whole life, he could tell by the way they had dressed, by the way they looked around, and specially by the small notebooks and the small voice recorders they carried. He sneered at them “losers!”, then walked towards the old man, “I’m definitely not the only one who is interested in the things that are happening here!” he thought.

            There was only one reason for the reporters to come to that small fishing port, the same reason for which Jefferson himself had come to Port Calvin: in the course of a month, five ships had sunk or disappeared in the sea near the port. There were a lot of speculations about these happenings yet none of them seemed to be true. Local legends had something to say about these tragedies and some reporters were more than happy to write about these legends and make the matter scarier to gain more readers. Jefferson didn’t believe in any of the legends and was there for the sole reason of solving the mystery of what had happened to those ships and their crew. Although it seemed a little weird that there were no survivors of any of the accidents; but he firmly believed that he could find a rational explanation for that too. With confident strides, Jefferson walked to the main area of the port.

            The sun shone brightly in the blue sky and a cool breeze, filled with the aroma of fish and the sea, compensated for the hot sultry weather. To get to the main area of the port he had to climb down a few stone steps. The port was very old and the remains of the old masonry works added to the beauty of the place, there were trees and flowers growing all around the port and the streets, and the lower parts of the piers were covered in moss. The rolling waves hit the stones, making a constant, soothing noise. Seagulls were flying nonchalantly in the sky, diving every now and then in the sea to catch a small fish. To Jefferson all these were in sharp contrast to the fear and horror that had cast its shadow over the little port town.

            “Good day sir!” Jefferson said to the old man with his signature smile, “I see you have a busy day”. The old man looked at him and saw a young man of about 28, with short yellow spiky hair, thin nose and a bony, protruded chin. His short stature and overall features, combined with an obvious cockiness in his manners made him look like a cunning fox and he was obviously a stranger. “Oh Jesus, here we go again” the old man grumbled and reluctantly waited for him to talk. Jefferson, being a bright observer, quickly guessed that the old man thought he was one of those pesky reporters who had come to bother him again with endless questions about the recent events as they had interviewed the locals many times, almost to the point of disturbing them. Of course he was a freelance journalist and photographer, but he would rarely use direct approach in his inquiries.

            The old sailor was about to say something angrily when Jefferson pointed to a yacht and asked: “How much do you take to rent me that boat for the evening?” knowing very well that the boat didn’t belong to the old man. Surprised at this question, the old sailor put down his defenses, “That boat is not mine lad!” he said in a normal tone, “It belongs to my good old friend Graham. But he doesn’t rent it to anyone these days. You know, he fears that he might lose his pretty boat, and besides, we don’t have as many tourists nowadays as we used to have before either!”.

            “Oh I see, that’s strange” Jefferson said, “then I’d better look for another person who would rent me his boat. Thank you anyway”, and pretended to be walking away. “Wait but you can’t find anyone that easily”, called the old man, “recently weird things are happening in here and many of the sailors prefer not to go sailing until these things stop. You know what I’m talking about don’t you?”.

            “Of course not!” Jefferson said, “I came here for vacation, planning to have a pleasant time in the beautiful Port Calvin, but you’re making me worried. Could you explain about these weird things you said?”. “What! You don’t say!”, the old man exclaimed with surprise, “So you have no idea what’s happened here this month!”. “Absolutely no idea” Jefferson said innocently. “Ok, ok I’ll tell you, I guess you don’t read the papers!” the old man grumbled “Five ships have had strange accidents, two of them have sank, this we know because the shipwrecks have been found; but no one, do you hear me? No one has survived, even their corpses have disappeared! And the three other ships have vanished into thin air. All these things have happened at night, and every time one of them had that accident, a spooky greenish fog has been seen over the sea. Similar things have happened here before but it seems that these mysterious accidents are increasing in number these days”.

            “And what is the cause of these tragic accidents?” asked Jefferson, “sea storms or technical failure?”. “Could be both and at the same time neither of them, no one knows for sure” the old man shrugged, “but if you ask me, I’d tell you that the old legends are true, that those ships were sunk by “The Howling Hades”. Yes those legends are true my boy, we have witnessed it before, and we are witnessing it again, it’s like a nightmare!”.

            “Tell me about this Howling Hades, what is it?” asked Jefferson curiously, “and what do legends say about it?”. Of course he knew what the legends said, for he had read many articles about Port Calvin that had been published by newspapers, but still it was better to hear the legend exactly as it was from a local who had grown up with the story. The old man took off his hat to scratch his bald head, “We don’t usually talk about it, you know, it brings bad luck” he said after a pause, “specially now that these things are happening!”. Jefferson smiled and shook his head, “I understand, but you see now I’m very curious to find out about The Howling Hades”, he said, and pointing to the Seven Seas restaurant, continued, “I would love to hear the story, you know I love old legends. But I’m also hungry, why don’t you join me if you don’t have anything urgent to do right now, let’s have some wine and talk about the legend”. The old man was delighted by the prospect of free wine, and saying that he had nothing urgent to do, accepted the young man’s invitation. Together they walked to the restaurant …

****

            After a late lunch and drinking some wine along with a bottle of good rum, Jefferson and the old man talked about different things, and as the old sailor prepared himself to tell his story three other fishermen who happened to be his friends had come to the Seven Seas and Jefferson, hoping to get some extra information about the legend and the mysterious events, had pleasantly asked the fishermen to join them. Thus the old man began to tell the story of The Howling Hades: “A long, long time ago, some time around the 17^th century, the pirate ship The Howling Hades had spread terror in the north Atlantic, being one of the most feared pirate ships, it attacked any ship that was unfortunate enough to cross its path”, he said while smoking his pipe, the three other men sat around the table, listening carefully, “its crew were among the most ruthless, dangerous pirates and cutthroats to ever sail in the north Atlantic. One day The Howling Hades attacked a five masted schooner named Mary Sanctus who carried an extremely precious cargo. Also aboard that ship were two young sisters who were on their way to meet their father.

            The crew of Mary Sanctus surrendered, but the pirates slaughtered them all and threw their bodies to the sharks, but spared the beautiful young maidens, instead, they took them to their ship as prisoners, poor girls! They faced a fate worse than death! When the pirates learned that they were of a rich, prominent family they decided to hold them for ransom. But this didn’t save the poor girls from the cruelties of the captain and his crew. The sisters were gang raped and harassed everyday, until they decided to put themselves out of the misery by stabbing each other to death with a sharp piece of wood, a very torturous way to die, but death was their only salvation. So each sister stabbed the other girl because they didn’t have the courage to put that sharp piece of wood into their own hearts. With their last breathe they cursed the cold blooded pirates that they should never find peace even in death.

            They were avenged pretty soon, because a British navy ship attacked The Howling Hades a few days later and killed all the pirates. The British hung the captain from the main mast of the ship and set The Howling Hades on fire, then left her to drift away into the mist while the corpses of its crew burned on its fiery deck. But the curse of those girls wasn’t lifted with the pirates’ deaths, their souls were trapped in their ship and they are suffering endless pain!”.  When he had finished the story, there was a deep silence; the old man was a good story teller and even Jefferson had been impressed by the legend. The local fishermen too were silent, shaking their heads thoughtfully and slowly; they had known the story since childhood, and had feared it as long as they could remember, and now once again the nightmarish tale of The Howling Hades was being told in their presence.

            After a few seconds Jefferson cleared his throat, “and what does this Howling Hades has to do with what happened to those ships?” he asked, curious to learn exactly what the locals thought. “Everything lad! Everything!” cackled one of the old fishermen, “you see, The Howling Hades was burnt on 13^th of June, every year near that date, the ship appears out of a spooky mist, at nights, when people see that mist they run to their homes as fast as they can, and close the doors and windows”. “Why?” asked Jefferson, baffled. “Why! “Why” he says!” again the fisherman cackled, “because if the ghost ship appears at night and you see her, then you can be sure that something very bad and tragic will happen to you or your dear ones, the ship brings bad luck and misery with her, every time she appears”.

“That’s true my friend!” said the other fisherman, the youngest of the three locals, “some times at nights you can hear the screams of the pirate ghosts, I have seen The Howling Hades once, and four days later, when we were on the sea, fishing, there came a sudden storm with such fierce winds that shook our boat violently, almost toppling it, and I can swear that I heard the wild laughter of the ghosts around me. Two of our friends where thrown overboard and we couldn’t save them, our equipment had stopped working for no reason, so we couldn’t call for help. Our boat nearly sank, but we were lucky, after an hour or so, the storm stopped and the weather was clear, and then our equipment, navigators and radio began working again. Although we survived but it was a horrible experience and those men that died were our close friends. I didn’t really believe in those legends but after that terrible day at the sea, I’ve learned that the tale of The Howling Hades is true!”.

            There was a deep silence again; the younger fisherman helped himself to another glass of free old wine and the two other locals smoked their pipes. Jefferson couldn’t believe such a tale, but asked anyway, “you say that you’ve seen this “ghost ship” right?”. “Yes, I have” said the fisherman, “I understand it’s hard to believe, but I’m telling the truth, other people have seen it too, some times it is invisible but you can sense that it is near”.

            “And these sightings occur every year near the 13^th of June, am I right?” asked Jefferson doubtfully, “and if it is this ghost ship that causes these accidents, then every year at June some ships are lost, correct?”. The fishermen looked at each other, the old sailor whom Jefferson had met on the pier, scratched his chin, then turning his head to look at the reporter he said, “It’s not exactly like that, there are things that we don’t know for sure or can’t explain. Usually older seamen here don’t go sailing at 13^th of June, and not every year these tragedies happen, but through the years many ships have mysteriously sank or disappeared and we think The Howling Hades is behind all this”.

            “Those who sank and died didn’t believe in the tale either!” said the other old man, “the legend says that the ghosts of the pirates of The Howling Hades still think they are in their own time and keep attacking the ships, this time to collect the souls of the people they kill, to become stronger”. “Can you describe the ship that you saw the other day?” the reporter asked the younger fisherman curiously, “are you sure you weren’t drunk or anything? Because I see you can drink like a fish!” he smiled and pointed to the bottle of wine that the fisherman had emptied almost all by himself.

            “Of course I’m sure!” he said, his face turning red at the sight of Jefferson’s sniggering, “I don’t give a damn if you believe it or not, but this is the way I saw her; it was 1 in the morning, I went for a walk at the pier and there I saw this strange greenish fog over the sea, and I was surprised to see that the fog was moving, moving but there was no wind blowing. I went forward to see it more closely, and then suddenly I was filled with fear and I felt cold; there right in front of my eyes the outline of an old ship appeared out of the fog, as she came closer to the pier, I saw that she was almost transparent; I could see the dark waves of the sea through her. I think I was so petrified that I couldn’t move a muscle …”. Jefferson, looking at his face, doubted if he was  lying; merely by retelling the story of his encounter, the fisherman’s face had become pale and the expression he wore was like a pure mask of horror as he was now looking out of the window at the very same pier where he had seen the “ghost ship”, deeply in his thoughts.

            “The ship had a greenish color”, continued the fisherman, now looking back at Jefferson, “it looked like a deserted ship; mosses had grown here and there on the hull, the planks were broken, the ropes were severed, hanging loosely over the thorn sails. I can swear that there were human skeletons on the main deck. The ship seemed to be hovering … she wasn’t sailing on the water, if you know what I mean, but what frightened me the most, was the red, glowing eyes that I could see on the deck, “the eyes of the evil spirits”, I thought. Then, almost paralyzed with fear, I ran to my house as fast as I could …”. “And four days later you had that accident in the sea that nearly took your life!” Jefferson said, looking out of the window at the pier. “Did you see a corpse hanging from the main mast?” he asked the fisherman after a pause. “No, I didn’t” answered the fisherman, “It all happened so fast, maybe in a few seconds, but to me it looked like I was watching the ship for a long time”.

            “Well gentlemen!” Jefferson said after a moment, standing up “I must go now, I need a rest. Nice talking to you and thanks for the information”, he smiled, and picking up his bag, left the restaurant. The local fishermen were still sitting around the table. “I didn’t like him” said the old man whom the reporter had met on the pier, “at first he looked like a nice guy, but he was very cocky”. “Never mind him”, said the other old man, “I like people who buy you wine and food to hear an old legend!”. The younger fisherman was quiet, again staring at the pier ...