Wicked Deeds, Part 2: Right the Wrong (The Royals: Hades’ Court)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

THANATOS

If ever there was something to loathe, it was this.

The three fates had to have woven the fabric of life to include this den of ill repute.

Never had I seen such a place in times past, and I had travelled through time since its very dawn.

Gallowsbay was nothing that history would want to remember.

Even now the rambunctious ways of the local pirating crews drifted on the wind out to where I invisibly floated over the bay.

Though the air was sultry and a thick fog settled over the bay, I could make out the ships that’d crashed upon the rocks and wrecked so close to shore.

Nooses swung from the masts of the wrecked ships, a sign of caution to all those who approached the island.

I’d collected so many souls from here that I’d lost count.

Though I was invisible, sharks circled below me.

Animals always had an extra sense when I lingered.

Sharks, in particular, liked to linger around me, knowing their next meal awaited.

As I drifted closer to the banks, they followed until the water became too shallow.

A drunken sailor staggered out onto the beach singing at the top of his lungs and holding a bottle in his hand.

I paused, waiting for the lifeline above his head to turn from gold to red.

A soul with a purely golden line would continue to live in the good graces of the fates.

But when that color began to fade, their time was near.

If it turned red, then the lifeline would be cut, and I would retrieve their soul and bring it to the Underworld for judgement.

I turned, watching the man stagger blindly toward the water.

He stripped out of his shirt and kicked off his shoes.

The water rushed up toward him, and he fell forward, still managing to hold the bottle tightly in his grasp.

Three sloppy strokes and he was in the wake, at night, with heavy fog surrounding him.

I nearly rolled my eyes at the stupidity.

His line went from gold to red, instantly followed by a watery scream.

He flailed, sending water and drops of his own blood flying in different directions.

A red cloud spread through the crystal blue water, and fins flipped from the water as others circled around.

Apparently, the sharks were right to follow me.

His ghostly spirit drifted up from the crashing waves, and he hovered there for a moment, dumbfounded at how he got himself into such a position. I crooked my finger at him and his soul drifted toward me.

When he landed on the sand next to me, he looked up at me with wide, vacant eyes. “Who are you?”

“I’m Thanatos.” It was an introduction I’d made millions of times. When his face didn’t light with recognition, I clarified for him, “I am Death, Ned.”

“Hey, you know my name?” His face lit with excitement. “How’d you know that?”

I cleared my throat. “I am Death, Ned. I know everyone’s name.”

“Right, that would make sense.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “I’m dead.”

I pointed toward the red blob in the water. “It would seem so.”

“But how? Why?” He looked back to where the sounds of revelry were coming from.

I waited until it came to him, but the confusion continued and I grew impatient and needed to be elsewhere. The bottle he’d been carrying washed ashore, and I pointed to it. “I believe a bit too much of the drink had plenty to do with it.”

His face scrunched up as he nodded at me. “Aye. I’ve had a taste for the rum for some time.”

The stories of the dead always fascinated me, and I wanted to be the one who listened to their end, but this soul didn’t seem to have a story to tell—unless it was one that involved losing time at the bottom of a bottle. “I’d say so.”

His face fell and he stared down at himself. “What now?”

“Now I take you to the afterlife where you will roam for eternity.”

“Sounds nice.”

For him, I wasn’t so sure. Had he lived a good and decent life, he’d end up in Elysium where souls existed in a state of serenity and blissful happiness.

But I was sure he’d lived well, not if the way he died gave any indication as to the way he lived.

If that was the case, he may end up in Tartarus being punished for his sins, or in the fields of Asphodel where his soul would be trapped forever in a grey nothingness where there was neither good nor bad . . . just nothing.

I cleared my throat. “It can be.”

The sound of a familiar laughter caught my ear, and I glanced back inland. Ned waved in the direction of the pirate town. “I can wait here among the waves, it’ll give me just one last time with my lady love . . . the sea.”

“If you’re sure.” I hesitated. I’d never left a soul just after their death, but Ned sat down in the sand, hovering over it. He pulled his knees in and gazed over the fog-covered waves. I stood over him, watching as he sat in stillness.

“I’m sure, captain.”

“Thanatos, you may call me Thanatos.” I turned away from Ned and left him sitting there on the beach.

She was here. I knew she was. I felt Anastasia with every fiber of my being.

Her soul called to me, and I would always answer.

As I moved from the shore toward the pirate town, I was confronted by the sheer amount of debauchery that would happen in a lawless place like this.

How she ended up here, I had no idea. But the fates wove the fabric and the souls lived out their tales.

I had no choice how or who she came back as.

This was her second chance, and I was determined to see her in Elysium, where I could see her at my leisure and she could live an eternity in bliss. Anastasia deserved nothing but bliss.

The streets were lined with pirates and wenches alike.

Taverns lined both sides of the street along with numerous brothels.

People stumbled from them while holding bottles filled with dark liquid.

The lower level was for carousing. The upper level was where sailors sought pleasures of the flesh for a price.

Wenches lounged on balconies overlooking the main road.

Their corsets were tied low to expose their breasts, and their skirts were pulled high to expose their legs and underlings.

Thick makeup covered their worn faces. As sailors passed by, they beckoned them to come in.

Stray dogs and cats roamed around stealing whatever scraps they could.

Yet the pirates found this entertaining.

Pistols fired at random, followed by laughter and screams. In an alleyway a man was shoved into the wall and robbed at knife point, while only a few feet away another man took pleasure from a wench who bent herself over a wooden box.

I turned away. There wasn’t a single innocent soul among them, and yet Anastasia was here . . . among this.

Had this been my first time here, I would’ve been appalled, but I’d spent so much time at Gallowsbay that it was like a second residence.

I checked on Anastasia throughout her life, yet I’d never spoken to her.

Tonight, that would all change. I continued to walk until I came upon the tavern where Anastasia frequented.

This one was much louder and much more violent.

I moved through the door and ghosted through the room, allowing bullets and drunken sailors to pass through me, until I got to the back room where Anastasia sat at the head of a long wooden table with what seemed to be her crew. They were all intoxicated.

Even looking at her now, it was hard for me to reconcile that delicate face as a captain of one of those legendary pirate ships who stalked the night.

Her thick dark hair fell around her face in loose curls.

She wore an old, worn leather hat with the brim pulled down low over her light eyes.

Her coat was equally as worn and loose around her body.

It draped from her shoulders and fell to the floor.

Her corset was black and pulled in tight to her body, holding the white linen shirt under it in place.

Her breasts barely peeked from the lapels of the shirt, which was a stark contrast to the wenches who frequented the tavern.

She never wore skirts. Instead, she had a fine pair of leather pants fitted to her small body.

Though I was invisible when I came into the room, her eyes darted in my direction and her tongue darted over her pink lips, leaving a wet trail in its wake. Her first mate raised his glass in her direction. “To Ana the Deathless. Another ship sacked, another deathless venture.”

The rest of her crew threw their arms up and cheered. They clashed their cups together, spilling rum and ale all over themselves, the table, and the floor. They were a messy crew, covered in filth, missing limbs, and messy clothing. But she’d kept them rich, which kept them loyal.

She raised her head and the candlelight drifted over her features. “There is no death when our names live on forever!”

They all roared and cheered, smacking their cups on the table and making the place vibrate. She rose to her feet and sneered at them. “The night is yours, gents. Do what you will, then we leave at dawn.”

They roared their approval, and she sauntered away from the table toward the main area.

She was small compared to these violent pirates, yet some of them gave her a wide berth.

She strolled up to a man who stood behind a large bar.

I couldn’t make out her words, but he scurried away quickly to do whatever she bid.

Music blared and fights broke out all around her, yet she didn’t bat an eyelash.

She just stood there leaning against the tall wooden table, watching it all happen around her with an unimpressed smile.