PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE
(EDITORS NOTE: this is the prologue to the story. I'm gonna try and do these every other friday so bookmark this page, and keep checking in. It's only up from here, guys. It's gonna be nothing short of epic. And I mean it. The word "epic" is so often misused, but it applies here. So, stay tuned! Also, I have an interview I did with a real ninja that I'll post here in the next few days, so watch for that, it's great. I'm gonna look into posting the chapters as .pdf files, so you could download them, but I suppose you COULD just copy/paste them into Word or something if you really wanted. So, enough of my crap. Enjoy the prologue to the story of pirates vs. ninjas vs. robots vs. cowboys vs. lumberjacks!)



Prologue

The sun was setting over the island of St. Marcus. Along its sandy beaches and through its thick palm trees, an orange light emanated off of everything in sight. Even the ocean, violently churning its waves, was a bright, brilliant bronze hue. It was a particularly pleasant day. However, if you had been there, you most certainly wouldn’t have regarded the pretty skies and horizons, unless of course you happened to be immortal, or really, really enjoyed seeing sunsets.

The reason for this is, simply, that a large ruckus was being caused just down the shore. And by ruckus, I mean that there was a fight. And by fight, I mean that it was actually a very large battle. And by very large battle, I mean they were playing musical chairs. But what did this mean, you’re probably asking yourself. Why were the people on the beach playing musical chairs, especially when there was a gorgeous sunset they ought to be watching? Surely they must be idiots, to ignore such majesty just to jump around rickety seats? Well, then I must apologize, dear reader, for not making it clearer. You see, when I say “playing musical chairs”, what I’m actually trying to say is: fighting with swords, guns, and ninja stars as one group tries to climb onto a docked pirate ship while the other tries to halt them from climbing said ship and sailing off of said island. And that is exactly what was happening on St. Marcus Island at this very moment, and why no one was admiring the scenery, or actually playing silly children’s games on the beach.

The pirates were running as fast as their legs could carry them, but the ninjas were faster. Clad in black stealth fabric, which was useless in the sunlight now, the shinobi descended upon the buccaneers, armed with throwing stars and katana blades. The pirates, conversely, were armed with cutlasses and blunderbuss guns. The two factions were stalemated as far as swords went, but it was hardly arguable that stars were superior to guns. To an uneducated eye, it would indeed seem that the swashbucklers had the advantage in this brawl, but it was not so. In fact, it was the other way around. Ninjas were devastating on land, and it was for this exact reason that the pirates were all running so quickly to their boat. It wasn’t because of the treasure they’d just stolen from the ninja temple nearby, nor was it because of the obese, smelly tourists on the isle. They simply wanted to escape with their lives.

It was quite a sight to see. There were about nineteen pirates and six ninjas battling down the grainy slope, like a flurry of death and metal. And every few seconds, as the cloud of combatants steadily made its way downwards, a body or limb would be left behind in its wake, a casualty of the chaos.

Captain Robinson swung and separated a masked head from its body, as he shot blindly behind him. This bullet actually passed through the first mate’s left arm, causing him to drop his blade, which deflected a ninja star back to the guy who threw it. And while the first mate was pretty irate about it, he couldn’t argue its efficiency. Meanwhile, Master Akira sliced two pirates down the middle, backflipped, and began punching and kicking everyone in sight.

“Run! To the boat!” bellowed Captain Robinson to his remaining ten mates. As they picked up their pace, he did as well. To the tourists lounging just a few yards away, this was a real spectacle! They had never seen anything like this before.

“Marge!” said a sweaty man with a horrid sunburn. “Marge! Marge, you’ve gotta see this! Oh, for heaven’s sakes, turn over here!”

“I’m not talking to you, Rupert!” she replied, “Not unitl you apologize!”

“But—“

“No, Rupert! Apologize now.”

“But Marge, there’re pirates and ninjas over there! Give me the camera, hurry!”

…….

“Marge..?”

But when he turned around to face her again, she had nodded off to sleep, her swim goggles pushing deep into her eye sockets as she lay on the sand under her umbrella. Heaving an agitated sigh, the man got up and grabbed the camera himself. With a curse, he realized that all the memory space had been filled up on the cruise boat. Scrolling through the photos, he checked for duplicates or any pictures that wouldn’t be missed. Finally he found one, a photo they had taken of Jeff Dunham’s comedy performance on the boat where he had unfortunately gotten his hand stuck in a puppet. Sure, the man thought as he pressed the little Delete button, it might’ve made for a few laughs online, but that hardly mattered as he’d neglected to pay his electric bill for well over six years now.

As this man turned around to capture footage, he saw that at least a dozen other beach bums around him were doing the same. People in board shorts, people in bikinis, all snapping pictures and taking video, probably to upload to various internet sites, like YouTube. Hurriedly, the man raised his own device and did the same.

Anthony Gale, a new pirate in Robinson’s crew, was now helping the final buccaneer up the rope and onto the ship, known as the Gnarled Merman. Only seven of them were left now, and three ninjas still yet lived, not far behind them.

“Gale!” shouted the Captain. “Cut the rope now! We’re getting deeper in the waters!”

“But Captain,” answered Anthony, “Bill is still climbing!”

Captain Robinson looked with anger at Anthony now from behind his wheel. His lip curled upward in a demonic snarl. And for a second, behind the dirt and facial hair time had built over his face, one could see the ferocity and commanding force left over from Robinson’s days in the royal navy, when he used to hunt down pirates himself.

“Gale, I’ll have you keelhauled if you don’t release him.”

Mr. Gale shivered and looked over the bow of the ship. His mate Bill dangled ten feet below on a rope, over deepening blue water. Further behind them now, the island was littered with awed tourists and corpses. Some of them had even died in the water, and now floated like boats themselves. All of this was unsettling, to be sure, but Anthony saw the true danger: three ninjas, running across the water’s surface towards them, weapons in hand.

He looked down at Bill again, who now had genuine fear in him; it was clear on every feature of his face. His hands quivered; his hair stood on end. Slowly, slowly, Mr. Gale turned his head and closed his eyes. With a short whisper, he cut the end of the rope, sending his friend Bill to the depths. There was a brief shriek of surprise and (Anthony thought) betrayal, followed immediately by silence. Feeling sick, the pirate turned and strode off across the deck, not looking back; he didn’t think he could take the sight of what he had just done.

It wasn’t long before they were overrun by the trio of assassins. They leapt up with mighty feet and engaged the sailors immediately again. Six versus three. It was more or less an even fight now. Master Akira lost an ear to Anthony Gale, and quickly returned the favor. As these two wrestled, another shinobi attempted to land a punch on Captain Robinson, who turned away fast enough that the man in black missed entirely, and only shattered the ship wheel. Robinson seized this opportunity to go on the offensive, and promptly gutted the Asian right there. Covered in blood, he turned to run onto the main deck in order to help his shipmates, when something caught his eye. He looked up into the red skies, and saw at that moment a squadron of robot fighter planes scream through the clouds, bearing down at staggering speeds towards them. Red missiles were being primed.

Running, Captain Robinson yelled “Abandon ship! Robots! Robots in the skies!”

And then, as one, they all looked up into the heavens. Some scrambled to escape, but most were glued to their stations in amazement. Swords clattered to the floor, and all time seemed to stop. In this moment that lasted forever, the pirates and ninjas took one last stab at one another, then all was gone in a tremendous white flash.

From the shore, the man with the camera stood with an unhinged jaw, as did the rest of the tourists. Even Marge had gotten up to see what all the fuss was about. What had they just witnessed? They registered that the pirate ship had just been blown up by some sort of jet, and that tons of debris and bodies were now washing up on their island, but why was this all happening? It made no sense.

They all pondered their questions aloud to one another, and Rupert was walking along the beach now, inspecting the rubble. Burnt and scorched wood, metal blades, pieces of flesh — it was all very overwhelming. Then he saw what he could only imagine was some of the gold that had been in the treasure chest the pirates had come here for in the first place. Reaching into the shallow water, he picked up a doubloon and held it up in the sunlight. It was definitely genuine, he thought. Would definitely fetch some good money back home. The man pocketed it, and hastily began scavenging for more.

In the thrill of the hunt, he didn’t realize that he’d wandered so far from everyone else. Finally giving up on finding any more treasure, he began to stride back where he came from. That is, until he saw the jets land just thirty feet away from him. Frightened, he turned to go around the other way, but was greeted with more landing planes. Terrified, he watched as they rearranged their parts to resemble human-shaped machines. With guns.

There was nowhere for him to go but into the jungle behind him, but as soon as he began to move, he was dead. The gold tumbled out of his pockets onto the sand, and was soon after picked up by a metal hand. This cold, calculating creature processed the coin for a moment, then put it into its storage chamber, turned back into a jet, and flew off into the distance.