England, West Coast
Devonshire, Dartmoor
St George, boundary wall
5 November 1898, 11:43 a.m.

It was typical English autumn weather. Only here and there did a small ray of sunlight push through the dense sea of clouds like the glow of a signal lantern. Everywhere else, grey clouds had taken over the sky and completely displaced the blue behind. It made the day autumnally dull and grey.

In the imagination of the young rogue Viktor Graham, however, the world looked quite different. The wall, overgrown with ivy and moss, rose before the fearless pirate captain like a mighty bulwark. But never before had such a thing stopped a nefarious rogue. Escape from the legendary prison, guarded by the most gruesome of gruesome torturers (Mrs. Warren, his teacher) had been particularly difficult today. After catching him in his assassination attempt on the school chalk, she thought she could break him by putting him outside the door. There he was to stand until the end of the next lesson, away from his loyal crew of keel rats. Her teacher was an old scarecrow anyway and was always picking on him. She couldn't care less who he played or joked with!

Arrrr! But he wouldn't let a landlubber like that tell him what he should or shouldn't do! It was not the first time that the wicked and nefarious Captain V. Blackbeard had extricated himself from this predicament. His crew had to fend for themselves and serve their time in the torture chamber at Geography.

With a broad grin on his face and a perfectly suitable stick (his sharp saber, of course) which he had kept hidden in a bush near the school for his adventures, Viktor squeezed through the narrow gap in the wall. Rustling, the tendrils of ivy fell back in front of his secret escape tunnel from the city full of soldiers loyal to the king! Briefly, he peered back and forth, then ran, scurrying into the shelter of the tall grass. In his chest, a rabbit was doing wild hooks of excitement because the stretch between the wall of the fort to the shelter of the higher bushes of the little forest tongue was always the riskiest. But none of the sentries seemed to have spotted him!

Crickets chirped somewhere at the edge of the forest and tall grass tickled his knees. With his stick, he boldly struck at the vines that grew everywhere in the wild jungle. Leaves rustled to the ground as he climbed over stick and stone with great strides. Then, brave as death, he pushed his way between two bushes - the secret passage to his secret hiding place! Behind them, he finally reached the endless sea, a pond amidst the embrace of the small grove. Here the pirate and his crew sometimes hoarded valuable treasures. That is, trinkets they had stolen from others and claimed for themselves before burying them in a treasure chest between the roots of a tree and under earth and leaves. That meant: HE had buried it there! After all, he was also the captain of the crew of useless dogs.

A rustling noise caught his attention. Bravely he faced the enemy, the wooden pirate saber with the slightly curved end firmly in his hands. Startled, he staggered back a step as a large, disgusting toad leaped from one of the bushes.

"Die sea monster!" he barked at the monster and struck at it with his saber. The toad, however, escaped his blow and hopped in a great leap to the pond. It wanted to escape into the sea! But it had not reckoned with Captain Blackbeard! He immediately ran after the brown blob. But before he could reach it, the thing jumped into the water with a loud splash.

Viktor pursed his lips in dissatisfaction and poked around in the water with his stick. Suddenly a strange shimmer caught his eye. The childish brow furrowed deeply and the bushy eyebrows under the curly brown hair tilted towards each other. What was that? Perhaps a hidden treasure at the bottom of the sea? Viktor fished for it with his stick. Further and further he tilted above the surface.

Suddenly something gave him a push and he lost his balance. With a short startled cry, and a yip, followed by a loud splash of churning water, the pirate captain plunged into the raging sea. Water slammed over his mop of hair and in a first reflex, Viktor closed his dark brown eyes and squeezed them tightly shut. So there was nothing but the blackness that suddenly pricked his flesh with thousands of needles. The biting cold made his body convulse. Under the shock, he opened his mouth to scream, swallowed water, gasped, and swallowed only more of it from coughing.

Viktor's eyes snapped open and he paddled disoriented. Above and below blurred as he blinked, trying to figure out where some of it was. Why was the pond so deep? Then, there, a light! Viktor pedaled. When he finally pushed through the surface, he drew the air into his lungs with a gasp- when suddenly and completely illogically a wave rolled over him and pushed him under the water again.

Out of reflex, he took another frightened breath, tasted and swallowed brackish water. Coughing, he kicked his limbs but still did not manage to find the surface. His eyes burned horribly. He could not think. The cold took his breath away and made his arms and legs stiff. He felt as if he were as heavy as lead. And he had never experienced such icy water in his life. Knife blades that dragged across his skin without leaving a trace - and where he hoped to become master of his body again with the next movements, he did not succeed.

It was not the water that did him in - it was the cold. It sucked all the energy out of his body and made his muscles cramp in painful uselessness, no matter how hard he fought to get to the top. He was a helpless child. Every time he thought he was getting closer to the patches of light that meant air and salvation, something pulled him deeper like a claw. It pushed him down deep and deeper.

He would die.

Far away from home.

His mama would be so angry with him... And so sad. So infinitely sad.

Papa was already gone. He had left her and he had promised never to do that.

He only wanted to be brave. Now she would be all alone.

The sudden, overwhelming horror of this realization increased his panic. He tried again to surface, not daring to think that it might be the last time, hardly daring to think at all. He forced himself to kick his legs and row his arms to get his body at least into a semi-vertical position so he could take another breath. Air that was only inches away.

Then, finally, he made it once more. Someone was standing on the shore. He recognized shadows behind his hair, which hung all over his face and eyes. There was someone there! Why didn't he help him?! Even in the few fear-filled seconds when he managed to get his face to the surface, he was shaking so violently that he could barely draw half a lungful of air before he was pushed under again.

Not enough to drown, not enough to draw strength. As if someone was playing a cruel game with him. It wasn't enough, getting less each time, and he felt a terrible longing in his chest, a desperate yearning for.... more. More air. All he wanted was to breathe!

Panic filled him. He felt a merciless current pulling him away from the edge of the pond, away from the saving land. The weight of his jacket also pulled him inexorably deeper. It wrapped around his body, his legs, like a noose tightening. The pressure around his chest seemed to want to burst him. The surface of the water seemed to move further and further away and despair erupted inside him. Viktor's mind was dull, and blurred and out of reflex he opened his lips to a silent scream. Instantly his mouth filled with cold, dirty water. 

Like a ghost, the little pirate sank into the depths, engulfed by the blackness of the sea.