Captain Laski had been there for months. He sat on a small, raft that he’d constructed from the wood he’d grabbed from his limited sea. You see, despite what you know, Laski’s ocean was enclosed by a clear wall of some variety, so he considered that the vast sea around him was severely limited. But, for whatever reason, he could not figure out how he had failed to hunt everything in the limited ocean to extinction. The previous night, he was attacked in his sleep by a many-tentacled thing. He thought of it as a thing. A monster, it. But never as an animal. It had a semi-transparent body, skunk of brimstone, and seemed to have been coated in a kind of cruel purple ink.
Whatever it had been, he skewered it on the blade of his saber and ate its raw flesh like a kebab. Like many of the other things that dwelled in endless numbers in the limited ocean, it tasted foul, but he was used to it. He’d been there for months, after all. And in that time, he’d tried every creature that he could catch and kill.
The thing was, he was getting tired of it. There was nothing to do in the limited ocean but eat and sleep and try not to be eaten. He was getting bored. restless. He wanted to leave. But he didn’t know how. He could not even recall, how he'd come to be in the limited ocean. His last memory before the place was his cabin being rocked by a storm. They'd been en route to Singapore when the storm hit. After the crash of lightning, there was darkness. Then it was day, and he was awake and flailing around the clear waters.
High above Captain Laski was Horst. If Laski were capable of viewing the terrible wizard, he would view him as a giant. Horst, likewise, viewed the captain as an insect as he studied his severe ordeal under a microscope. He pursed his lips and with a shrug of his shoulders, he poured the contents of the Ernst dish into a copper kettle that he had over the fire. Boiling the captain alive.
"It is a shame," said Horst as he watched the captain's struggles, "That such a brave man should have to suffer so. Well, I need not suffer anymore and the little man has been turned into a teensy corpse."
With a satisfied smile, Horst went to his room and returned with a small black book. He sat down at his desk and began to write.
"Dear Mister Editor," His letter began. His eyebrows did a kind of cruel dance on his head as he wrote with his special quill that he'd plucked from a Gristal. Though, this meant that the quill was about the length of a halberd. It took Horst the strength of both of his hands to write with the terrible tool.
"I have enclosed within this letter, an account of Captain Laski's final days. I do hope that you find it of interest. Captain Laski was born John Haymond Ruth Laski in the village of Cyainide in the nation of Cadonia. He would later go on to change his name to Captain as a private in his king's army."
Horst continued to write about the captain's life and how he had come to be in the ocean, but eventually, he ran out of things to say. With a satisfied sigh, he leaned back in his chair and blew the letter dry. He placed it in an envelope and sealed it with a blob of red wax. The symbol of a skull and crossbones was stamped into the wax. In truth, the editor of the local newspaper would be rather sad to see the letter in his mail, not for the content, but more because it was completely illegible, due to Horst's functional illiteracy, and his inability to attempt writing with a normal-sized pen.
With the letter complete, Horst went to bed and had sweet dreams of Laski's screams.
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