The Grimm Prequels Book 5: (Prequels 19-24)

by Cameron Jace

  Once upon a time, a man known by the name of Long John Silver, (also known as Captain Ahab, among a few other names) had been obsessed with the sea — and a whale. I’m sure you’ve heard about him in other diaries. Almost every story in the Seven Seas mentions him in one way or another.

  John was vicious man, keenly sly, and brutally unforgiving. More so after he lost his leg to a whale. Some would say his upbringing was harsh and that he’d been a good man once. But I have no evidence of this in my diaries.

  At some point John’s obsession with the sea escalated to madness. That happened after he had learned about a treasure buried in a place some called Treasure Island, which in reality was called Neverland.

  Since then, he’d devoted his life in the name of the Pied Piper, who had also been searching for the treasure, among other things like a flute, or song, that would let him rule the world.

  Only few people knew about John being married, his wife abandoned in a house on an isolated island of very few people. The island was one stretch of perpetual snow that his wife had been imprisoned on for life inside her house.

  Little could she venture outside in the deadly snow, but every so often, she got to visit her neighbors and socialize with those who sold groceries and salt.

  That hadn’t been just fate or coincidence. John had planned this. He’d wanted his wife as far away from the world as possible. Not because she was bad.

  It was he who was bad.

  John had known so many women in his life, in adulterous ways. He’d even killed some of them so they won’t expose him, then he fled to the sea with their bodies, dumping them once he was far out and hidden from the steepest mast on the horizon.

  Then one day when he’d desired a son, he married a chaste woman from the island mentioned. He’d sensed her nobility and love for motherhood and that she’d give him a good looking and smart son — and take care of him while John was on the sea.

  His wife was kept on this island so she’d be as far as possible from the men he knew. In John’s mind, many men wanted to avenge him for sleeping with their wives. That’s why he kept his marriage a secret and his wife in a faraway place from the men who’d want to hurt him, and her.

  The last time he’d left his wife, John hadn’t been very good to her. He treated her like a slave and even hit her a couple of times. His drunken nights, spent singing hi ho silver, were usually his pleasure and his wife’s pain.

  But leaving for another long sail, his wife sang the news to him. “I’m pregnant, John.”

  She’d told him so he would be pleased and so he’d love her and stop hurting her. And though John didn’t change, he’d been eager to come home to the son his wife must have birthed by then.

  Night after night, John had thought about this. A son that would carry his name. A son that he’d teach how to sail, and a son who’d inherit his obsession with whales – and treasures – in case John got killed in the sea — which had been very probable.

  When he’d returned home to his abandoned wife, John demanded to see his son. His wife, lowered her head, worried he’d hurt her again, confessed it wasn’t a boy, but a girl.

  “I don’t want a girl.” John choked her. “I don’t like girls.”

  His wife worried their girl would hear this. Even though she was just an infant, she didn’t want her daughter to feel inferior at such young age. And by whom? Her own father.

  “What’s wrong with girls?” she protested.

  “Everything is wrong with girls,” John said. “You know how many I’ve had of them? They’re good for nothing. I wouldn’t have one of them in my crew.” Then he stopped thinking about it. “Well, except one. Her name was Carmilla.”

  “Get out,” his wife screamed. “Why did you marry me then?”

  “So you’d give me a son.”

  “And what do I have in return? Nothing. You don’t even love me.”

  “You want to know what you get in return? My protection. You’re a weak woman in this world and only strong men like me can protect you and your daughter.”

  “She’s your daughter, too.”

  “No, she isn’t. I want a son. And I’m not leaving for the sea before I make sure you’re pregnant again.”

  And John stuck to his word. His wife was pregnant when he left for sea again. And before he left he told her: “If you give birth to a girl again, bury her in the snow, or I’ll come bury you and your already-born, sweetheart.”

  John’s wife watched him limp away in the snow — as he couldn’t use his cane in the mushy whites — and wished she had the guts to stab him in the back.

  But she couldn’t.

  John was the embodiment of darkness. The sea, and the whale he was after, had messed up with his head, not to mention his mysterious connection to the Pied Piper himself.

  John’s wife, whose name will remain unspoken in this diary, for reason I’d not like to discuss at the moment, had never been in love with him. She had married to escape a bitter past — which I may also discuss in another diary.

  And so John walked out, leaving her with a cruel choice to make. Because what if she gave birth to a girl again?

  In the months to come, Long John Silver, famously known as Captain Ahab at the time, continued his hunt after the whale Moby Dick. His obsession grew with every tide that passed, every storm he survived, and every whale he killed that wasn’t Moby Dick.

  His obsession with that treasure in Neverland increased as well. It was as if Ahab was always either chasing a whale or a treasure, both of which, to my vast knowledge, never has ended up being the right one so far. Neverland is most likely an island on the back of a whale called Moby Dick — but I’m not quite sure yet.

  In those times, John hardly remembered his wife back home. And in those times he bedded women from every shore in the Seven Seas. John drank, smoked his pipe, and sometimes even played it for musical pleasure.

  Four years passed and John was due to come home.

  All the way back to the cottage almost buried in the snow of the isolated island, he thought about his son. He must be four years old now, he thought. Eagerness shaped his soul as stepped closer to the cottage.

  Then he stopped at the doorstep.

  What if his wife hadn’t given him a son? What if it was just another weak and useless girl? John picked up his cane, his face dimming already. What would he tell the other sailors back at sea — though not many knew of his wife at the time? That he could not conceive a son? Last time, he’d been so embarrassed he could not confess the birth of his first child: a girl.

  These were dark ages in the world, when being a man was everything, and a woman was, well, something that came after man.

  To his surprise, someone pulled the door open before he even knocked. It was his daughter, jumpy and merry, wanting to hug and kiss her long gone father.

  “Get away from me.” John shoved her aside, using his cane to walk into the house. “Where is your mother?”

  The child had been so shocked that she could not answer, because she was drowning in tears.

  “I’m here.” The mother walked out of the back room in her rugged dress. She had been cooking. The look on her face didn’t please John. She must have given birth to a girl again.

  John asked her if what on his mind were true.

  “Of course not,” she said with a smirk on her face. “It’s a boy.”

  To John’s delight, his boy child came walking into the room then, staring up at him. John knelt down on his cane and only foot, misty eyed and arms wide.

  The child didn’t come. It was afraid.

  John certainly looked scary with his long bushy beard and scars on his face — not to mention the missing leg.

  “I’m your father.” He waved his hand to beckon the boy closer. “Come to me. I will show things you’ve never seen. I will take you sailing all over the world with me.”

  Still, the child didn’t want to come. All until his mother gently encouraged him to. “He loves you,” she
told her son. “He really loves you.”

  Reluctantly the boy stomped toward the big sailor, while the mother took the unloved girl in her arms, promising her a good meal.

  “I don’t want a meal,” the girl said.

  “Then what would my little angel wish?” her mother asked. “You just have to wish and I will grant it for you.”

  “I want my father to love me.”

  The mother sighed and hugged her even closer. Then she said nothing. Her poor girl had wished for the one thing that was impossible. The mother was sure of it.

  John almost lost himself for a year with his son, teaching him, playing with him, and neglecting the mother and daughter. He wished to take him aboard the next time they set sail and proudly show himself in front of his sailors. But he thought his boy was still too young.

  “Later,” he told himself. “When you’re at least thirteen-year-old.”

  “Why thirteen?” asked the boy.

  “I first sailed when I was thirteen, boy, so shall you follow in the footsteps of your father.”

  Back at sea again, John was on top of the world. By that I don’t mean he’d turned into a kind and loving man. He began drinking ferociously, meeting more women, and taking more lives. In the end, he was still just a pirate.

  His next mission, ordered by the Piper I suppose, was to hunt down a boy named Jim Hawkins, who was really Peter Pan. John was supposed to locate him on a small neglected island where he lived with his mother. The Piper had killed Peter Pan’s father a few years earlier, in the sea, but could not find Peter’s island.

  In his quest, John met a man who claimed he was the devil, which made him laugh.

  “I’ve always considered myself the devil,” John had said proudly.

  “Well, you’re not,” the clumsy sailor said. “I am. I inherited. Father to son to grandson. It’s always been me.”

  “But you’re worthless. Why do people fear you?”

  “It’s propaganda.”

  “Why?”

  “I need a following, so I made up stories about myself.”

  “Worked just fine, I have to say.” John laughed and gulped his drink. “So you how can you help me, Mr. Devil, to find this Jim Hawkins boy.”

  “I know how you can find the island. It’s concealed even though it’s right in front of you,” the Devil explained. “A magic spell Jim’s father used to protect his son before he died.”

  “Can you break spell?”

  “Already done. However, I need a favor.”

  “What would that be?”

  “When you catch Peter – Jim – or whatever his real name is, I want him to spend a year with me.”

  “What kind of favor is that?” John grunted. “With you where?”

  “In Hell.”

  Now John laughed hard. “So it’s real? There is a Hell?”

  “Not as dark as you’ve been told, but yeah, there is.”

  “So all those myths about Hell were propaganda, too?”

  “I’m a great marketer,” the Devil said. “I can sell anything.”

  “Marketer?” John huffed. “You mean musketeer?”

  “Nope, Mark-et-ter. It’s a word that hasn’t been invented yet. Sometimes I can travel to the future.”

  “You’re a funny man.” John, now drunk, patted him heavily on his shoulders. “Funny man. What did you say your name was?”

  The Devil sighed.

  “Oh yes, Devi,” John said. “I’ll call you Captain Devi. But if you’re so much of a devil, shouldn’t you easily be apt enough to take this Peter boy to Hell with you?”

  “It’s complicated. I have powers but then I don’t have all the powers.”

  “Whatever the heck that means,” John sputtered. “I’ll give you the boy, just after I find him and make him lead me to the treasure island.”

  “Neverland, you mean.”

  “Whatever it’s called. I want to find it. I have my reasons.”

  “Deal.” The Devil offered a shaking hand.

  John looked uncomfortable. “First of all, pirates don’t shake hands.”

  “Ah, sorry,” the Devil said, embarrassed. “So I take it that’s your word I have?”

  “Never trust a pirates word. It’s like an eye patch over an eye that sees well.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “I don’t know,” John said. Then he lowered his voice, whispering conspiratorially. “Maybe sign a contract in blood.”

  The Devil rolled his eyes. “Really?”

  “I thought you’re all about propaganda?”

  “That’s my sales pitch, but when it’s time to make the deal, I get all serious.”

  “Sales pitch?” John laughed again. “I have no idea where you get your expressions from. Anyhow, consider it done. Peter leads me to the island, and I will send him to you.”

  “Thank you,” the Devil said and walked away.

  Then he suddenly stopped without turning around. “Ah, I forgot to tell you.”

  “About what?”

  “Your son.” The Devil turned around. This time he mildly scared John. Just mildly. It was that sinisterly deceiving look in his eyes.

  “What about my son?” John’s face dimmed. He’d mentioned he had a son, but never talked more about him to the sailor. He worried about whatever this freak in front of him knew about his son.

  “I have bad news about him.”

  “What happened?” John worried, dropping his drink. “Is he hurt?”

  “Actually not,” The Devil said, flashing a gloved finger in the air.

  “Then what is it about him? How do you know anything about him?”

  “I know things, trust me,” The Devil said. “And I tend to be honest with people I do business with, so I need to tell you about your son.”

  “If you don’t speak up now, I will pull your eyes out of their sockets, stuff a snake inside and sew an eye patch to your lids, leaving you forever in agony and fear.”

  “Ease down, Captain Ahab,” Devi smiled, nonchalantly. “You’re a bad man. But someone was badder.”

  “What do you mean? Who is?”

  “Your wife.” Devi smirked.

  “I don’t understand,” John said, though the picture had already begun shaping in his head. He’d felt something was wrong about his son before, and now his head spun with morbid possibilities. “What about her”

  “It’s nothing about her. It’s about what she has done.”

  “She has done something to my son?”

  “She has done something to you, using your son.”

  “Speak up!” John roared.

  “I think you know what I am going to say.”

  “Speak you evil little sleaze!”

  “I’d prefer to whisper this in your ear,” The Devil smiled. “It’s too confidential to say it out loud.”

  John tolerated the tease and let him near his right ear. “Your son, Johnny boy, isn’t your son.”

  John gritted his teeth, and readied his fist to punch him in the face. “That’s not possible.”

  “Oh, it is,” Devi whispered. “When your wife had a miscarriage and was so scared you’d come and kill her and your daughter, she had to use her talents.”

  “She had a miscarriage?” John realized his cane could not balance him anymore with all the drink and truth, so he leaned onto the side of the bar. “What talents?”

  “The same talent you have. Only you used it too many times with too many women. She only used it once. With one man.”

  John held his breath so he wouldn’t explode. He could easily slay a thousand whales right now. “Are you saying…?”

  “Indeed, your wife introduced you to a son who is three-years-old not four; one she had with a stranger who you — and her for that matter — may never see again.”

  “But that should also be impossible,” John countered, his breath heavy. “I’ve precisely isolated her in a far away and snowy island where only few families live. They live far away from her and the
men would not dare come close to her.”

  “It was a stranger, Johnny,” the Devil seemed to enjoy it. “In my opinion it’s your fault much as hers. You pushed her too far, but hey,” he pulled back, his voice louder, audible for everyone in the bar, then collected himself and adjusted his suit. “I’m just the Devil. What do you I know about human darkness?”

  At this point, and as a chronicler of all things fairy tales, I, Sandman Grimm, should point out who Long John Silver a.k.a. Captain Ahab really is.

  In my research I found bits and pieces of details from various diaries, or so-called Books of Sand. It’s clear that Long John Silver is Captain Ahab — it really makes a lot of sense, considering the absurd similarities of the characters in literature — but it’s a whole other thing when you know who John’s ancestors are.

  It would come across as shocking, and slightly unbelievable, but it’s what the other diaries suggest — though I still haven’t been able to confirm it.

  It’s my assumption that Long John Silver is a descendant of King Henry VIII.

  I know. I thought the same thing. It just can’t be. But neither is it believable that a whale bit off only a man’s leg, and has not eaten the rest of him, considering how enormous a whale’s mouth is.

  Anyways, I’m just a keeper of books whose job is to pass on what I’ve found out.

  Who was King Henry VIII, some might ask?

  Well, many things. Some feebly good, and many terribly bad. King Henry was known for killing many. And by many, I mean more than you think a man can kill. In the sake of not being so vague, King Henry married a lot, and was cruel to his wives, and killed some of them — though some historians may argue otherwise.

  The point being, is that in my studies I’ve found the lines King Henry’s descendants the cruelest men to their wives. Which made me think that Long John Silver would sail back home and kill his wife and daughter immediately — I warned you of the darkness of this diary, I must remind you.

  And though it would have pained me to know of the mother and daughter’s deaths, it would have seemed the natural turn of events.

  But John didn’t.

  In fact, it’s been documented that he did not return home until a year after learning about his wife’s adultery.