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Into the Belly of the Beast

By CBTreks
July 25, 2006

There were worse ways to die.

Even as the fetid odor of the kraken's breath filled his lungs, the - well, after days at sea, no one was *sweet* smelling - the much preferable fragrance of Lizzie's skin remained in his nostrils. As the vile slime from the monster leeched through his clothing, fouling his skin, he still felt the warmth of Lizzie's wind-chapped lips on his,
the roughness of her hands on his own. He remembered the defiance in her voice as she lied to him - "I'm not sorry" - and it did his heart good, made him proud of his pirate lass.

Now he charged the beastie, standing free, waving his sword, recalling how he'd felt on the gallows, trussed up like Sunday dinner.

There were always worse ways to die.

~.~

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