Black Sails at Midnight

On the night of the twenty third of Ardile, the rainiest month of Equestria’s year, as the clocks of Canterlot struck ten o'clock and exactly ten o’clock, and as Princess Celestia slept, she had a strange dream.

One thousand, six hundred years ago exactly, she personally ended the reign of terror of one Telsar Merkin, the Great Pirate Lord, by ordering his execution upon his arrest. She watched, on that day, with grim satisfaction as one of the bloodiest, most violent beings of the world was hung at the now-retired gallows that once sat at the center of Canterlot’s garden, then so necessary when piracy ran unchecked across the world.

The Pirate Era, or so it was known, began with the rise in power of Telsar, and ended with his execution. In just two years after his death, the empire based on his influence crumbled, and any remaining pirates were arrested, killed, or went into hiding with their treasure.

Now, one thousand six hundred years later, on a particularly stormy night- just as Celestia remembered the execution being -the Princess of the Sun had a strange, almost nightmarish experience in her sleep.

Whatever was in the dream, she didn’t remember in full, just a blur of sound, color and motion. She did, however, recall a single phrase, one which made her shiver as she awoke to a clap of thunder. The same phrase she heard Telsar speak, once when the Pirate Era began, and again before he was lead to the gallows on the last day of his life.

“Three hours till the new age starts, Celestia. Three more hours, and the world is forever changed....”

“Ugh....” I groaned and grabbed my head, feeling a massive headache punching my brain in the everywhere. I didn’t even bother trying to open my eyes, and my entire body felt like I tried to pick a fist fight with a bear. And lost.

“Jesus Christ what happened last night?” I rubbed my eyes and groaned. ‘I haven’t that hammered in a while, what was I even fucking thinking?’

“Ah, God,” I paused as I heard a female voice grumble next to me, “keep it down would ya? Other people got headaches too, ya know....”

....

....

‘Oh lord please tell me I didn’t, my sister would fucking kill me.’

I heard the voice suddenly shout, “Gah! Shut up already would ya!?”

“... I didn’t say anything....” Seriously, I didn’t. I’m pretty sure that last thought stayed in my head.

“Yeah well I can still hear it man, I get mind-ready when I’m drunk or hungover.”

I paused at the statement and said, “That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.”

“Don’t I know it....” The mystery person groaned- and I should really open my eyes. It’d be nice to know who I very likely got smashed with last... night, I guess it was?

Taking a deep breath to prepare myself, I slowly opened my eyes, waiting for the sun to come out and smack me in the head with a proverbial frying pan. Any second now... my eyes are almost open... any second... huh. No blinding pain. Why is- oh.

Looking up after a bit of blurriness in my vision, I saw that it was pretty dark out, probably sometime in the afternoon, and a thick layer of dark clouds blocked the sun. Looks like another fun, sticky, humid mid-summer storm for good ‘ol Cincinnati!

Really though I quite like it when it rains- rainstorms and thunderstorms are my favorite whether, actually -but they’re slightly less enjoyable when you wake up... yeah looks like I’m under a bush in my backyard. Rainstorms are less fun when you wake up hungover under a bush, next to someone you don’t know, and quite possibly did things with. Speaking of which....

I gave my eyes another rub for good measure and turned to my right, where the voice had come from, and oh good Lord whaddafuck.

Okay, so. Ever wake up after heavy drinking, under a bush with a massive hangover and next to a person you don’t know or recall meeting, then when you open your eyes, it’s a really weird looking girl who looks like, ten?

I’m tempted to scream, but that would just hurt both our heads.

“What the fucking fuck did I do last night!?” Oh, never mind, screamed anyway. Ow.

“Ow-owowow,” she sat up and clamped her hands over her ears, “don’t do that man, my head’s already killing me as it is....”

“I- wha- who- you’re- I... ugh....” ‘Shit dude don’t black out now, this is like the worst possible-’

***

“Ugh....” I groaned and grabbed my head, feeling a- wait, no, we already went through that brain. This is the part where I wake up again after learning I possibly got drunk with a ten year old girl....

That sounds bad no matter what context you put it in. Damn I must've fucked up baaaaaad.

“So,” my internal monologue was unceremoniously shattered by aforementioned girl, “finally awake there, huh Michael?” ‘Shit she even knows my name?’ “Well of course I do; you don’t get blind drunk with someone without learning their name, do you?”

That’s actually a valid point, an- wait a minute!

I shot up from my laying position, opened my eyes and looked across from me- hey I’m in my living room. No, wait, focus!

I smacked the sides of my face and looked across from me at the loveseat adjacent to the couch I had been placed on. I stared at the girl and I blinked. Then I blinked again, this time with an expression of pure, dumbfounded confusion.

Okay, so, seeing as I obviously got drunk with her, I may as well describe what she looks like. Short- pretty usual for a probably ten year old girl I’d say -but then that usualness stops fucking dead. I’m talking pale skin, bright white hair probably as long as she is tall, and with a few red and black streaks here and there for good measure, I guess.

Also, she had bright white eyes, and black... sclera I think is the name for what’s usually the whites of your eyes, and she had theses oh-so-lovely little curved... spike-things tattooed under her left eye and down her cheek. Her pupils are normal though, so that’s all fine and fuckin’ dandy!

Now her clothes. That’s the kicker, because I have never seen anyone, anyone, not a child or adult in America or any other third world country, dress like her. She had on some sort of weird black robe with this... gold, slightly-tribal-but-not-really looking designed hem around the neck, sleeves and base.

Then there’s the hat. That fucking hat. What. Some sort of large, wide brimmed hat- we’re talking past shoulder-width wide motherfucker -that had colors to match the robe; all black but the edge of the brim was that same golden design. And a skull. A nice, sizable, bull-like skull with horns and all, just sittin’ on top of the fuckin’ thing like it belongs there. Ahaha-what!?

Since I was more than a bit silent at the moment, she looked ready to say something, but I cut her off before she could. I held up four fingers.

“Four questions.” I said with all the calm demeanor of a set of keys in a blender, being operated by a chimpanzee jacked up on speed. Pretty sure that last part was supposed to be said first but whatever, I am in no mood to structure my analogies correctly.

She raised an eyebrow with some sort of half-smile and nodded, “Alright, I was probably about to answer them anyway.”

“One,” I said, conviction somehow intact, “who are you?” She looked ready to answer, but I stopped her, “Two,” my voice is already cracking, oh joy, “why are you in my house? Three” kill me now oh Lord, “why do I get the impression we got drunk together? And lastly,” forgive me padre for I have sinned, “what the everloving fuck is even going on anymore!?” Don’t care if she’s a kid, I’ll say fuck. We apparently got drunk together, vulgarity can go to Hell.

“Well,” she leaned back in the seat, crossing her arms behind her head and her legs on top of the coffee table, “looks like I was right, I was about to answer all of your questions before you asked.”

‘Why you smug little....’

She waved a finger, “Ah-ah-ah, none of that now. It’s not my fault, those are just the kind of questions that come up in these sorts of situations. If you think about it, it makes sense, really.”

“I... that....” Okay, so thinking about, those questions do seem like they would easily come up if this were to happen to anyone else. The fact that she knows that is worrying though, all that means is that she must have been in a similar situation before, and that scares me.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I can easily answer all of those, but I’ll save that first one for last, just because that might have the greater impact.”

“Alright....” I’m still a bit confused and worried and scared and confused, but she’s going to answer the questions, so I might as well let her choose the order.

“Well to get all three of the others out of the way; we did get drunk together.” She started to laugh with a strangely wistful expression, “We probably spent the better hours of last night bar-hopping and slamming just as much alcohol as we could!” She chuckled lightly, “Heh, haven’t had that much fun in a while, I tell ya, I really gotta thank ya for that....”

“Um... you’re welcome...?” What.

“And that kind of answers the other two.” She made a so-so gesture with her hand, “We’re in your house because when we woke up outside, you screamed and passed out, so I carried you in and set you down on the couch.”

“Oh, thanks, I guess....”

“No problem.” She smiled, “And as for what’s even going on...? Well, we got drunk, and now we’re here. That’s about it, really, but there’s parts to it that go into who I am, so I guess I should answer that now.”

We sat silent for a bit as she covered her mouth with a hand, looking up in what appeared to be very deep thought. This is awkward, better break the silence.

“So... you are...?” Yeah just let it hang there, even more awkwardly than before.I guess it worked though, because she snapped out of whatever deep-thinking she was in and stared at me, looking a bit dazed for a second.

“Oh, uh,” she shook her head and sighed, “sorry, spaced out for a second. Anyway, nice to meet you.” She stood up and leaned over the coffee table, her hand outstretched for me to shake. Shrugging internally, I pulled myself forward and grasped her small hand, giving it a light shake.

“I’m Death.” She grinned.

“... Huh?” Smooth response there jackass. “Uh, I’m Michael...?” Even better.

She laughed lightly, “It would seem you’re having a bit of disbelief at my statement.”

“That,” I said slowly, “and a Hell of a lot of confusion.” I blinked, “Death...?”

“Yep,” she grinned even wider, “the one and only, in the flesh!”

I let go of her hand and slowly sank back into the couch. ‘Death? Death. What. Death? Just... Death?’

After a few moments of... that, I finally said to her, “Forgive me if I have a hard time believing that.”

“Eh,” she shrugged, “a lot of people do. Need some convincing?”

I frowned and raised an eyebrow at her, feeling a bit wary. If she’s joking, nothing would happen, obviously, but if she’s not... I don’t think I want to know how she would prove it.

“As uh... as long as it doesn’t involve killing me, or anyone else, I guess?” Seems like a reasonable worry; if there were any way to prove you’re Death, willing someone to die would be a pretty damn good way to do it.

She laughed and shook her head, “Nah, that’d just be rude. Besides, you’re too much fun to kill-” Whether I should feel honored or scared is beyond me. “-and what I had in mind was...” she drifted off with a sort of devious smile replacing her grin.

Suddenly, she stuck her right arm out to her side, and a black mass of... stuff started swirling around her hand. After a couple terrifying seconds of hearing a child say what I would call an unintelligible demonic chant, a bit of red mixed in with the black, and suddenly the shit just exploded.

Now, it wasn’t a big explosion mind you, nor one that actually damaged or affected anything in the room in any discernible way, but an explosion of black/red demon shit is one anyone would duck away from, and do that I did.

I huddled into the couch cushions, my hands protecting my head with a good grip and... nothing. just a bit of laugh-infused humming and something tapping lightly against the ground.

“You can look now.” I heard her say.

Slowly I brought my head up to look at whatever the fuck she just did and JESUSFUCKWHAT. NO. NO. THAT’S WRONG. THAT’S TERRIFYING ACTUALLY. THAT’S.... That’s... actually pretty convincing.

So... she just summoned a giant scythe. It’s like twice her height, and the blade’s probably a good five or so feet long and yeah she definitely wasn’t hiding that thing anywhere.

“So... Death, right?” I asked feebly.

She smiled and gave the scythe a little twirl before slamming it into the ground, “That’s me. And since you asked me a few questions, I have just one, small one to ask you.” Her smile’s getting wider, why does that worry me?

“Alright...” I gulped, “what’s the question?”

Her grin was very likely at its widest as she held out her free hand for me to grab, and with a conviction in her voice the likes of which I had never heard in a person, she asked a question that would change my life forever.

“Would you like to go on an adventure, Michael?”