THERE'S NOTHING BEYOND THIS POINT

The little boat filled with grim faced men quickly paddled back towards their ship.

The mate spat before tossing ashore Bloody Jack's sword. Jack was surprised

at the gesture from his former shipmates. Still, they'd put him ashore with pistols

aimed at his back and nothing else. It had been a fair fight but Bill Smith had

friends and Bloody Jack had none.

Jack cursed his luck.  It had all been bad since his old captain Black Vulmea had

vanished.  The sea was his life and fighting was his trade. He took up the sword

and admired the way it gleamed beneath the burning tropical sun. He wasn't fain

to give his former shipmates the satisfaction of watching them sail away.  He

trudged down the beach, his steps long and powerful.  Bloody Jack's long mass

of unkempt black hair trailed in the breeze. His dark eyes flashed with anger and

a hint of madness. It wasn't the first time he'd been forced ashore on uncharted

lands and he was certain he'd live to sail again.

Almost four hours later he'd circled the entire island. It was larger than he'd

supposed at first.  He was drenched in sweat and finding water suddenly

became his first priority. The beach had held no secrets, it was time to turn

inland and explore his new, and hopefully temporary, home. 

Using his sword, the former pirate hacked his way forward. It was slow going and

his mouth soon felt like lump of dried meat. He wiped his brow and battled through

the thick foliage until he stumbled upon a tiny spring. Immediately the thirsty man

dropped to his knees and slaked his burning desire for anything wet. Feeling much

refreshed he relaxed for a time and sat upon a falled log. He found his pipe and

tobacco pouch. The little leather bag was full but he had precious few matches.

After smoking he decided to build a makeshift campsite by the spring. There was

no guarantee that fresh water existed anywhere else on the island. He sat

and contemplated the chattering monkeys, a good source of food if he could

bag one.

Later Bloody Jack, a nickname given to him by Vulmea himself, resumed his

exploration. An hour later he had found nothing of note but that turned out to

be only a prelude to a shocking surprise. He came upon a city, or at least what

had been a city. The ruin appeared vast and old. It was surrounded by thick

walls and in the distance he could see the remains of once proud towers. The

sailor stood momentarily awed. This was the last thing he had expected. It

seemed evident that this scrap of land had, at some long ago point in time, been

the center of some great culture. Gripped by intense curiosity and lacking

anything remotely better to do, he naturally investigated.

HIs first task was to find an entrance and this was quickly accomplished. He

discovered a huge iron gate. It was ruined and covered with rust. After a few

hearty shoves the thing creaked open enough to allow Jack entrance. Once

inside there was much to marvel at.

Although overgrown with weed and vine, Jack found it much less suffocated

by the jungle than one would be led to suspect. Cobbled streets and courtyards

were almost untoched by heavy foliage. Vegatation creeped through here and

there but it was a simple matter to distinquish with the naked eye the glory that

had once reigned in this strange place. Most of the large houses were collapsed

or rotted away but some still stood and what majestic palaces they had been!

Obviously this city had once been host to great wealth and power.

Bloody Jack noticed something mildy disturbing. It was very quiet inside the city

walls. No chattering monkey sounds reached his ears and even the birds seemed

subdued in their singing. The din of noise outside the walls was decidely more

subtle inside. It was odd, very odd. Still, Jack did not long dwell on such phenomena.

His was an inquisitive and courageous nature. He feared some things but such

rarities of conscious were mostly alien.  He trusted his strength and his sword.

However, he grasped the hilt of the long blade a hint more tightly.

Nothing seemed amiss in the ruin. It was a dead city, a memorial to bygone times and

glory...nothing more. He searched at will for anything that he might make use of

during his struggle for survival. He uncovered nothing, just bare walls and the rather

overbearing gloom that one might find in an ancient graveyard. He eventually

came upon what seemed to be a walled palace. He easily gained access to the

secluded ruin by means of stout vines that grew in a random pattern along the

wall. At first his eyes noticed little different from what he'd foud outside. Perhaps

this had once been the sanctuary of the King, there were hints of opulence.  The

architecture was more complex, the stonework more advanced, and the courtyard

was littered with the remains of finely wrought sculptures. Bloody Jack walked

about somewhat awed and once again aware of the silence. In fact, the quiet

greatly contributed to his next discovery.  He hear crying or moans!

Perhaps it had been his imagination, isolation could play tricks on one's senses it

was said. But he heard it again. No, there was no mistake. A third noise enabled

him to get his bearings in relation to the sound. It had come from a foreboding old

tower that stood a few yards off to his right. Jack approached cautiously. The

moaning seemed human to him but he knew that was impossible, or was it?  Did

some remnants of a native culture remain in this desolate old ruin? Who was he

to say one way or the other. Jack was a newcomer and could only guess at the

long history or the current events occuring in such a stange land.

Bloody Jack entered the old stone building and the moans grew louder. Inside all

was dust and spiderwebs. He worked his way down a long passageway which was

nearly pitch dark. He came to what appeared to be a doorway.  He could see light

beyond but the opening was almost totally covered by vegatation and vines. He

hacked his way though and entered an large open area. HIs eyes grew large

and his jaw dropped. Inside, he saw a large platform constructed of dark obsidian

stone. In the center of this structure sat a large cage.

Inside the cage stood a woman who was easily the most beautiful that Bloody

Jack had ever encountered during his long travels. She was very young but

her hair was almost pure white.  Her eyes were huge and lovely. Her skin was

pure alabaster and she wore bracelets of gold and silver. Jack gasped despite

himself. The woman had wings, wide white and yellow wings. The pirate felt

a tremble run through his mighty thews. What wonder could this be?  Had he

gone completely mad from hunger and lack of strong drink?

The woman grasped the bars of her cage and eyed the newcomer just as

curiously as he eyed her.  "Who are you, why have you come here?"

"My name is Jack Nye, my shipmates abandoned me here to die...but who are

you most gracious of ladies? Are you a vision, or some magical creature no

man has ever had knowledge of before?"

"I am called Lorette and I am most miserable here in this cage stranger. Yet,

it appears this is my fate for I cannot escape."

"I will help you!" Jack declared.

"NO, NO," the angelic vision almost shouted, her voice musical and magical just

the same.  "My master is due here any second.  You must be away or he will

slay you..please leave at once!  I do not wish anyone to die on my account. I could

never forgive myself for such blind selfishness as that."

Jack moved closer, he longed to look deeper into her huge dark eyes. "I fear

no man. If he interferes I will carve him into a fine meal for the birds and the

maggots."

"No..no!  You must flee, I sense he is almost upon us even as I speak!  Away and

save  yourself kind stranger.  No mortal can save me from my Master.  He is not

a man at all you see, he is a ...monster!"

Jack had seen enough already to not dout the words of the beautiful winged

creature. In fact, at that very moment he heard strange noises...something large

and powerful was approaching. He was not afraid but there were forces at work

here that he scarely understood. Perhaps it would be best if he hid himself in

order to better understand the nature of this thing he must soon slay, for slay

it was his intention. There should be no misunderstanding about that he

mused. His sword was eager to taste blood. Just the same he darted behind

a huge fallen stature and waited. A moment later he heard a massive, bellowing

voice, "Lorette, I am come my lovely!"  Then the thing entered the hall.  It was

not a man.  Jack's eyes widened in shock and a cold chill ran the length of his

spine!

End part one, thanks for reading. Part two will be posted in this same thread.