Galway Bay, Ireland
"Please, gentle sir, please let me up. I beg you I know not how to swim."
::: Whistler held the old man by the ankle in one hand, leaning far out over the ship's railing so his victim's long hair dragged through the moon-kissed aves of the incoming tide. With his vampiric strenght, holding the old man this way for long moments had proven no problem. And Whistler was strong, fresh drunk from the kegs of Irish whiskey below and from the blood of of the women passengers aboard ship. "You made a mistake," Whistler crowed proudly. "Two, in actuality. I am neither a gentle sir, nor do I care about your welfare, old man." He dunked the old man in the water, submerging him nearly to mid-chest even when the ship crested each wave. Sailcloth from the twin masts of the rumrunner's racing boat cracked overhead, filled by the easterly breeze that rolled in from the North Atlantic Ocean and into Galway Bay. Cries for mercy came from the other passengers who had been taken prisoner. They stood huddled togeather in front of the forecastle, the light from the pair of whale-oil lanterns hanging in the rigging turning their despairing faces waxy yellow. :::
::: Whistler ignored them all, holding the flailing old man under water for a long ten-count. "You monster!" Running footsteps, too light to be those of a man full-grown, slapped against the wooden deck.Futher amused, Whistler turned with the uncanny speed he possessed after having drunk his fill, keeping the old man hanging over the ship's side. The dark-haired girl rushing at him was the old man's daughter. Although she was fair where her father was severe, the resemblance between them remained undeniable. She raked at him with her nails, trying to score his face. Whistler dodged out of the way easily, then backhanded her, breaking her nose and sending her flying from her feet.:::
"Child," a woman's voice called out, "you won't touch this man unless he allows it." Sarah stood near the railing above the forecastle, her blond hair swirling in the wind. She looked as if she'd stepped off the king's ballroom in a red off-the-shoulder- dress. Though she was petite, the hostages drew back in horror. They'd already seen her at work and feared her.:::
"Let my father go," the girl ordered, her lower face a mask of blood." Hs has nothing to do with the Scottish or the rebellion they are fomenting against the English crown."
"Of course." Whistler relesed the hold he had on the old man's ankle, dropping him at once into the deep, natural harbor of Galway Bay. He smiled good-naturedly. The old man screamed, but it was short-lived ending soon as he submerged. "Father!" the girl staggered to the railing crying out in sorrow and horror.
"Don't fret girl." Whistler grinned. "It's a long way to Galway shore or even the coast of Ireland. Maybe he'll learn to swim. And tonight, the tide does favor him." Her shoulders shook as she cried out helplessly, and before Whistler could stop her even with his great speed, she hurled herself overboard. He stared down into the dar water. For a moment he saw the girl, limned in the white blouse she wore, the water so black the material looked as blue as coal dust. Then she disappered.::
Those dark brown eyes snapped open quickly, Solan was laying on the ground and found that, he could not move. His whole body felt heavey his head was tilted back to the side. He's been drugged. The faint sounds of light foot steps were echoing into the darkness. "Shhhh" he heard a whispering. "Don't speak." getting vision to focus back into his eyes, he lifted up his head slowly. A large outlined figure was standing over him. "Wha.." Solan had no idea what was happening, the weird dreams back on his evil hell days. As Whistler. He did not know how long hes been here, or actuly missing. He watched as the figure leaned down their fingers wrapped around the chains that binded him from moving. "The Master wants you alive.. but to torture you intill you tell us about this new creature to reborn into earth." The faint whispers echoed to him, he was so drugged and in and out of sleep. The figure jerked him up to his feet quickly and threw him over their shoulder. Painful moans escaped from Solan's lips bleeding the blood dripped dropped on the hard floors. He'd just drift off to dream in the arms of sleep once more. And wait to see what was to be done to him.::
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