Vander Decken IX stood at the bow of the Flying Dutchman, his imposing figure enveloped in a resin bubble suit that faintly shimmered as its surface shifted under the pull of a particularly calm undersea current.
The dim light of the abyss cast a ghostly light that danced over the twisted grin plastered across his face. He spread his arms theatrically as he surveyed the wreck below like a self-proclaimed king of the depths.
"Oi, you mangy sea dogs!" he bellowed, his voice booming across the murky depths, dripping with mockery and authority. He jabbed a finger toward the wreck. "What the hell are ya waiting for? Strip her bare and plunder to your heart's content!"
The Fish-Men erupted in triumphant cries, their arms thrust toward the surface before they descended upon the wreckage like a swirling tide.
With relentless zeal, they tore through the debris, their movements swift and merciless. Watching his crew at work, Vander let out a dark chuckle, the sound reverberating through the confines of his suit.
Vander Decken pushed off from the bow of the Flying Dutchman, his form plunging into the murky depths with an almost leisurely descent.
The dark waters closed in around him, the wreckage gradually sharpening into view as the abyss yielded its hold. His arms moved slowly as he steered himself downward, the currents parted with a wave of his hand, as if they too obeyed his whims.
The wreckage sprawled beneath him, a chaos of broken beams and debris. Vander's grin twisted further with cruel satisfaction.
Vander Decken's boots sliced through the swirling sediment as he landed with a quiet thud atop the freshly shattered wreck. The ship's remains were still settling, timbers groaning as the deep embraced its newest victim. Torn sails billowed sluggishly, their purpose lost to the tide.
He straightened, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the weight of the depths, eyes narrowing at the chaos he had wrought. Debris drifted in slow-motion destruction... splintered barrels, cracked lanterns still clinging to fragments of light, and the personal effects of the fallen now aimlessly tumbling in the tide.
Bodies floated just beyond the wreckage, their limbs jerking in weak, desperate motions as they clawed at the water. Bubbles erupted from their mouths in frantic bursts, the final fight for air slipping away with each fading breath. Their eyes, hollow and unseeing, stared into the abyss as the struggle ceased, leaving them to drift in eerie silence.
Vander Decken sneered, his voice a low murmur that rippled through the water. "Humans... What a pathetic race," he muttered, brushing past the lifeless forms without a second thought, his focus fixed on the wreckage ahead.
As he combed through the wreckage, his sharp eyes caught a flicker of light—a glint of metal obscured by drifting debris. His grin curled wider, curiosity and malice mixing in his expression as he swam closer. With a casual swipe, he pushed aside the floating shards of wood, dismissing them like scraps unworthy of his attention. His fingers curled around the rim of an overturned captain's chest, flipping it open only to sneer at the waterlogged logbook and shattered instruments within. With a scoff, he sent them spiraling into the depths, lost forever in the black void below.
His search was relentless, scattered berries, a cracked log pose, and the hollow remains of a gilded ship's bell passed through his grip, discarded just as swiftly. Then, amid the wreckage, he spotted something different—a battered iron cage wedged between the wreck's fractured ribs. A predator's gleam lit his gaze as he reached for it, brushing aside tattered rigging and torn banners with a flick of his wrist, as though dismantling the ghost of the ship itself.
Vander Decken's fingers curled around the rusted bars, the iron rough beneath his grip as he wrenched the cage free from the wreckage. Silt billowed in thick clouds as jagged splinters broke away, scattering like brittle bones as the ship surrendered to his grip. With a slow, deliberate pull, he dragged the cage forward, its weight making it lurch unevenly as it tore free from the tangled remains.
As it came fully into view, the murky water parted just enough to reveal the boy within. His blue skin shimmered faintly, casting an eerie glow that contrasted sharply with the ruin around him. Green eyes met Vander Decken's with a steady, unflinching gaze... unshaken, unreadable. Even as torn banners drifted past like remnants of lost glory, even as Vander Decken loomed over him with a grin curling like a predator sizing up its prize, the boy did not recoil.
The curved horns atop his head only added to the strange aura he carried, his presence both foreign and oddly composed amid the destruction. Vander Decken's grin deepened, fingers tightening against the bars as amusement flickered in his eyes. This was no ordinary wretch dragged down with the ship... this, was something far more interesting.
"Well, what do we have here?" Vander Decken muttered, his grin fading into something more subdued as he floated closer. "You're still breathing, so you're a Fish-Man, yeah? But those hands..." He stared, his brows furrowing slightly. 'No webbing. That's... not normal. Even those impure Wotans I've heard about, with their giant blood still got webbed hands and feet.' He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as confusion deepened across his face. 'So what the hell is he?' His mind trailed off, as he tried to piece together a riddle that didn't quite fit.
Vander Decken's eyes fixed on the boy in the cage, a lazy smirk curling across his face as he took in the innocence and naïveté shimmering in the child's wide eyes. The purity in that gaze, so utterly gullible... it almost made him laugh. In that unguarded glance, he saw an easy mark
Vander reached out, his gloved hand closing around the iron lock. His hand tensed, the leather creaking under the strain as his focus sharpened. 'If he tries to run, I'll mark him,' the thought rang cold and certain. 'Even if he gets away he'll come crawling back when he realizes... no one can outrun my perfect shot!'
'Pitiful little thing,' he mused, his gaze drifting over the boy's unwebbed hands. 'He sure as hell isn't one of us.' A dark thought stirred in him: 'But if he turns out to be anything like one of those hulking Wotans, he might just prove to be worth the trouble… Fine, I guess I'll play hero for now.'
The iron lock strained against his grip, the corroded metal biting into his palm as his fingers tightened around it. With a sharp crack, the rusted mechanism gave way, snapping under his unrelenting strength. The boy within flinched at the sudden noise and sheer display of power. The sound echoed in the watery silence, a momentary ripple that faded into nothingness.
For a moment, all was still. Then, with a low groan that seemed to emerge from the depths themselves, the door creaked open on its own. The rumble stretched out, heavy like the exhale of a long-buried giant.
Vander took the opportunity, stepping forward with a practiced air of authority. His hand shot out, sweeping into a bold, heroic gesture as he stretched it toward the boy, a striking image of chivalry, like a knight in shining armor. The boy stared at him, awe flickering in his wide, green eyes. In that moment, Vander was unlike anything the boy had ever known. His life had only just begun, a blank slate untouched by warmth or kindness. And now, this gesture... Vander's outstretched hand and the faint curl of his lips became the first act of compassion the boy had ever experienced. The unfamiliar warmth blooming in his chest left him unsure of what to feel.
'It doesn't matter who or what you are, lad,' Vander thought, his calculating gaze fixed on the boy. 'From this moment on, you're nothing more than a tool that'll serve my purpose.'
"Well?" Vander said, his smirk deepening as impatience flickered beneath his calm demeanor. His tone was firm, yet deceptively kind. "We don't have all day, kid"
Led by Vander's commanding yet oddly gentle voice, the boy reached out, placing his small hand into Vander's. The texture of Vander's resin covered grip felt strange, like nothing the boy had felt before.
Vander tightened his hold, pulling the boy out of the cage with smooth, effortless strength.
The boy drifted upright in the gentle currents, his body buoyed by the water as he adjusted to the new freedom. Yet his wide eyes stayed fixed on Vander, awe radiating from their depths. He couldn't help but marvel at him... the strength in his grip, the easy confidence of his movements, the smirk that seemed to say he was in control of everything around him.
Even though Vander wasn't much of a looker—his disheveled, degenerate appearance marked by his scraggly goatee, spiky black hair, and hunched posture gave him an unrefined air. His sharp teeth were framed by a cat-like mouth, one that twisted awkwardly when he smirked, resembling a poorly executed grin more than anything intimidating. Combined with his four legs and the bubble resin suit clinging to his lanky frame, which shimmered faintly but did little to mask his clumsy, unconventional physique, Vander hardly projected heroism.
And yet, the boy thought he was the coolest person he'd ever encountered. That single act of kindness shone brighter than anything the boy had known, casting Vander in a light so radiant it blinded him to all his faults.
The peculiar texture of the bubble suit clung to the boy's fingers, its cool, almost alien feel captivating him in a fleeting moment of stillness.
"There," Vander spoke with a casual ease, his words laced with a deceptive cheerfulness that masked the unsettling darkness beneath. "You're free now. Those pirates... filthy lot, would've done unspeakable things to you if I hadn't come along. You should be thanking me." His smirk lingered, every bit the self-assured savior, as he watched the boy carefully.
The boy blinked, his green eyes widening slightly as the words sank in. He glanced at the cage, then at the drifting wreckage around them. 'They were the danger, I was warned about!?' The thought sent a shiver through his spine as he stood frozen in the realization of his peril.
"T-thank-you, umm .... mister" the boy spoke his mind, his voice tinged with genuine gratitude. He looked up with earnest eyes, unaware of the web carefully spun around him. His thanks came freely, innocent and unknowing, directed at the very danger he had been warned of.
Vander's grin widened, though whether it was satisfaction or amusement was unclear. 'That's right, kid,' he thought, 'you don't even realize what you've been caught up in. And you never will. Not if I have anything to say about it.' He let go of the boy's hand, his fingers slipping away without pause or hesitation. The boy's hand flowed in the currents for a brief moment, as if unsure what to do with the sudden absence, before slowly falling back to his side.
Vander turned toward the open sea, his grin sharp as ever. "Name's Vander Decken, captain of the Flying Pirates," he declared, his voice brimming with a confidence that almost masked the rough edge beneath. He glanced over his shoulder at the boy, his tone dropping just slightly into something more commanding.
"Stay close, kid. The sea's got no mercy for anyone wandering aimlessly—you'd be out of your depth in no time. But," Vander's grin sharpened as he cast a sly look over his shoulder, "why not tag along? Take a chance with me, see what life on the Flying Dutchman's all about. Who knows? You might just have what it takes to call yourself a flying pirate."
He paused, turning fully toward the boy now. "So, what do you say?"
The boy blinked, surprise flickering across his face before he nodded eagerly. "T-Take me with you Bander decken!"
Vander smirked, leaning down slightly as his hand ruffled the boy's hair, sending small bubbles drifting upward. "That's Captain to you," he said, his tone carrying just a hint of teasing authority.
The boy's wide green eyes sparkled, and he straightened, clumsily swimming upright as he gave a more deliberate nod. "Yes, Captain!" he said, his voice filled with newfound determination.
Straightening, Vander turned back toward his ship. The Flying Dutchman loomed in the murky depths, its silhouette monstrous and ominous, like a demon descending from an abyssal sky. The massive hull stretched into the watery gloom, casting a shadow that swallowed the remnants of the wreckage below. Its colossal oars churned steadily, groaning under the strain as they held the ship fast against the restless currents.
Around the great vessel, the flying pirates moved with purpose, their figures darting like shadows as they hauled up the last of the plunder from the wreckage. The water felt heavy, laden with the echoes of their victory.
The muted clang of metal, the occasional shout of triumph, and the swirling turbulence left in the wake of battle.
"We've got what we came for," Vander said, his grin sharp with satisfaction. He straightened, casting an unflinching gaze over his crew. "Make for the Dutchman," he commanded, his voice carrying the weight of authority that demanded swift compliance.
Vander turned to the boy, raising an eyebrow as he gestured toward the waiting vessel. "You've made the right choice, lad," he said, his tone steady and filled with approval. "Stick close now, and let's see if you've got the mettle for a real adventure." The boy's white hair flowed gently in the water like silver threads caught in the current as he gave a determined nod "Metal? Uhh... Sure thing Captain".
Vander Decken threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the depths like the bellow of a triumphant sea beast. "𝘽𝘼 𝙃𝙊 𝙃𝙊 𝙃𝙊! That's what I like to hear!" he said, his voice brimming with pride. With that, Vander and the boy ascended toward the Dutchman, leaving behind the silent grave of the battle.