Capítulo Uno

          The hint of tobacco and rum in the air made the town of Cartagena alive, but eerie during the night. Everyone was pecking around for the newest thing like birds do for the juiciest worm. The men and women of the city were always out and about, throwing caution to the wind, looking for an adventure - an escape. An escape from themselves. Some embrace the night, but most fall prey to it. If one wasn’t careful, they could fall into the hands of Pyrates.

          My father always told me to be careful of these “inhumane” beings, for, they acted on their animalistic instincts. “They’d lie right to your face and wouldn’t bat an eyelash,” he had said.

          They were evil and took from the rich. They preferred blood of the wicked, for they were tainted as well.

          The Pyrates were feared by the wealthy. Pyrates weren’t confined to the Seas – they easily stole a wealthy person’s wallet in town just as they would their ships. There was nothing more important for a Pyrate than their treasure. With their guns at the ready they didn’t hesitate to kill for it.

          The rich need security and with their money, they got it. The Saviors of this land, no, of this earth –The Navy was a group of men who protected these people and made sure to get heavily compensated for their services. And for that, they were thought of as Gods and worshipped like so. To me, they were the same as the Pyrates.

          My father was in the Navy. Well, was in the Navy. You see, my father was a fool. He was reckless and gave up his life to protect the woman who had done him harm in the cruelest way imaginable.

          He thought Pyrates had killed the woman he loved. Embracing her lifeless corpse, his drive to murder every last one of them led him to his demise. He thought them the enemy and always will carry that to his grave.  

          What my father didn’t know wouldn’t bother his corpse. Little did he know that his little girl would become the enemy, the spawn of chaos and demons, worse than the Grim Reaper, a Pyrate herself.

          “Get your grimy hands off of me, señor.” The waitress struggled under the hold of a nobleman. He had her arm set in a vice-like grip that overpowered her tiny frame. She looked around, pleading with her eyes to get this cabrón away from her. She only wanted to do her job.

          La Cuerva was a mini-bar, stationed right in front of the docks and boonies. The city was divided into three sections: the lower, middle and upper snobs. Unfortunately, this bar was right smack in the middle of the classes. So, one had the pleasure of seeing a clash every now and then.

          And, it was my favorite place to vent.

          “Ay, don’t be such a tease. I know you want to swing low on this.” The man thrust in the air with pride, all the while she looked at him like he was el Cucuy. And, that was no compliment on his part.

          He had a gap between his teeth and smelled as if drowned in cologne. Not to mention his  pudgy body was seriously in need of work. 

          Clearly, this desperate scoundrel couldn’t take a hint to save his life and wasn’t going to give up “seducing” the waitress.

            “Okay, cochino, time’s up.” I walked over to him.

          He gaped, water cascading down his face. He touched the top of his head smearing the liquid and turning red all the more.

          I set the glass down. “Whoops, my hand slipped.” I sneered.

          “You!” He finally let go of the woman. He threw her to the side and came after me like a bull and I, el matador.

          Of course, he missed me. I used the red-hooded cloak I was wearing as bait.

          “Olé!” I knew this thing would come in handy. Except, my bait had him running across the room- without control and landing on a woman’s bosom.

          “Ay! Dios mio!” the woman shrieked. She was sitting near a huge man, which I guessed to be her husband. Jealous, he shot up and grabbed the nobleman.

        Nearby, I saw the smile of a poor man, who wanted to get in on the action. He ran and smashed a bottle on top of the husband's head, angering the husband more. The wife continued to scream as she tried to apply pressure on her husband’s wounds, but her hulk of a husband wasn’t having any of it. He threw the nobleman aside and punched the bottle-breaking culprit, stomping on the little man's fingers.

          Agonized cries filled the room. Before I knew it, a brawl broke loose.

          “Oh, dear, did little ol’ me cause this?” I smiled at the bloody sight before me. I found the nobleman cowering behind a barrel, shaking with such fear I was sure he’d piss himself and ruin his silk pants.

          “Look at you, can’t even handle a measly thing like a bar fight,” I spat at him. “Weak, pathetic little thing. You think you have it so easy, but I bet you can’t sleep. You can’t sleep because the fear engulfs you. It wants to dominate that pretty perm of yours. Which, might I add, doesn’t suit the likes of you.”

          The sight of his shaking form made me snicker.

          He stared deep into my eyes, his tiny voice shaking. “W-who are y-you?”

          I smirked. “You haven’t heard of me? The Leader of the Zea?” I laughed. “Today is not your lucky day.” I stepped forward. “Now, what was el matador supposed to do after his bull took the bait? Ah, yes, la estocada.” I drew my sword out, swinging it around, getting my motion ready.

          “No! Please! I’ll do anything, señor. Por favor! Don’t take away my money!” He brought out his fat wallet, immediately shielding it behind his back.

          I glared at the vile creature. I grabbed the hood of my cloak with my other hand and brought it down, my long hair falling around my face in dark tendrils. 

          My voice hardened, “Big mistake. One, I am a female Pyrate.” The corners of my mouth rose. “And two, you didn’t plead for your life.”

          His eyes bulged out, as my sword pierced through his organs. I thrust, hard, making sure to rip his vitals.

          I pulled the sword away; brought out a napkin, and with one swift motion, wiped it clean of  his blood and gore.

          “Also, the name’s Imelda, Imelda Alvidrez, ¿y tú?”

          His ragged breathing slowly stilled.

           “Oh, that’s right. You’re dead.”