Free Coffin Island by Will Berkeley Page B

mermaid grabbed my arm like she
aimed to tear it off. I tried to fend her off but it was hopeless.
The mermaid was horrifically strong. She pulled me towards Doctor
Fast. She dragged me across the surface of the emerald ocean like a
metal fishing lure. She swam incredibly fast. My head was reeled
past all the witches in the sea including Professor
Coffin.
    The Mermaids were apparently fishing
for pirates. This inversion seemed perfectly plausible to me. The
mermaids were in the skiffs whereas the pirates were in the water.
Why not mix thing up a bit on Coffin Island? I was having so many
crazy thoughts what’s a couple of mermaids fishing for pirates? I
could easily chalk it off like a corpse on the sidewalk.
    The mermaids had the pirates surrounded
which I was viewing favorably. Those costumed fools had gotten us
into this mess. Hadn’t they? And they were always up to no good.
There was no denying that. Frankly they had it coming. Let’s speak
clearly here, gentleman, because I figured these were my last
thoughts. Why not put them out there boldly before I go off to my
coffin or wherever it is that I am off to. The whole situation with
the corpses in the water looks ominous. Perhaps the whole coffin
part of this story isn’t true. Or it simply does not apply on the
emerald ocean. Something is seriously wrong here. I’ve been
captured by a fish for all purposes.
    I was in the clutches of a mermaid on
my way to my own drowning. However I was trying to hang on to
optimism as Madison had suggested. I was thrilled that the
perpetrators of my murder were being brutally executed. It was
great to see the pirate go with heinous violence. It was a cause
for celebration that some creature was finally taking them to task
with abject malevolence. I would have done it myself, those of you
that might think me lazy and hypocritical, but I was on my way to
my own brutal execution. I couldn’t seem to avoid that. That
previous engagement, my execution, that the pirates had scheduled
for me was keeping me from extracting my own revenge. You see what
a pickle I was in? However let’s see how my proxies, the mermaids,
do, shall we? Perhaps we’ll even savor it a bit because the pirates
deserve to suffer horribly.
    The mermaids were hitting them on the
head with oars. They were throwing harpoons at them. They were
gaffing them. Mermaids were pulling pirates on to the skiffs like
blubber fish. They were gutting them alive which was wonderful.
Pirates were screaming in agony while their livers were ripped out
of them like tuna fish. The whole mess was then dumped into the
ocean. Let witchcraft sort it out. It was killing for the sheer
pleasure of it. It was a beautiful thing to witness. The gore was
fabulous. Shocking, breathtaking and delicious, it made me question
everything like good art should. My whole existence was in the
pendulum so I suppose it was a heightened state. It was like
something out of The Museum of Modern Art. There was no denying
that we were down in the gory wing with the butcher paintings. I
was thrilled that I had been granted admission even if I was part
of the deadly subject matter. Why not hack the head off that bull
even if the bull is you?
    The pirates that were still alive in
the ocean, sadly, were defending themselves with cutlasses. They
were swimming under the skiffs and trying to board them. The
remaining pirates were determined fighters. Begrudgingly, I had to
grant them that much status. Very begrudgingly, I might add. They
were somehow human. Their viciousness hinted at it.
    The remaining pirates were decidedly
difficult to kill. I always admire those hard targets. I can’t help
myself seeing as I am one myself. You have to admire those savage
holdouts. There just aren’t that many of them left.
    The weak had been quickly slaughtered
as they should be. From time immoral this is how brutal war should
be waged. Brutal savages must paint the earth in blood with brooms.
Then the meat grinder comes out