Mitchell Blackburn

Little Black Book

There’s a narrow corridor, with the faint sounds of rumbling and chaos approaching. The quality of wood on the floor and walls is a dead giveaway that this is an old, worn out ship at sea. Statements like “It’s him!” and “It was him the entire time! He’s over here” become gradually louder. A man in decrepit, gothic clothing slams into a wall at the end of the corridor as he turns the corner. He is fumbling down the hallway in exhaustion, as the rough boat crew members close in on him. The white dress shirt underneath his brown vest is badly worn out, and filthy. He sprints to the end of the hall, where the captain’s quarters are located. Busting open the door, the captain turns to him. The man strikes the captain with the last bit of energy he has left, knocking him to the ground. For some reason, he is frantically searching for a writing utensil. “Quill, where’s a quill….come on”, the man says. The messy table is violently cleared of contents, exposing only a quill and ink. The man pulls out a little black notebook. He is shaken, desperately trying to remain composed enough to dip the quill. He begins to write in the journal as fast as he can, while simultaneously looking up at the doorway. The crew is getting close. The man tries to get his thoughts together as writes the finishing touch in his journal. The captain starts to regain consciousness, grunting as he opens and closes his eyes. The man notices, and gets one last dip in the ink before he backs up against the wall. Crew members obliterate the door from vicious entry and see their downed captain loading his gun to shoot his attacker, and they direct their weapons towards the man. During this moment, the man adds his final scratch to the notebook. He quickly looks at the crew with wide eyes, then the captain, then at an object on the floor that causes a slight crack of a smile. It’s a spilled bag of gold coins. He grabs it, and as soon as they open fire on him, he vanishes.