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Jake Kiszka - Blog Posts
Sanguine Osculum
Upon exploring an abandoned manor deep in the woods, you find that truth is sometimes just as strange as fiction.
CHAPTER 2
Vampire!Sam Kiszka x Reader
Warnings: Standard warnings for a vampire fic, along with 18+ themes in future chapters.
Daniel looked just as concerned to see you as he did the first time. Sam assured you that’s just how Danny always looks, and that he’s “just a nervous fellow sometimes,” and it made you feel a little better about surprising him like this. He was nice, though, and after he relaxed, the two of you got along well.
He told you more about his life before this. How he grew up alongside the Kiszka family, and was pretty much one of the family. Like a brother, is how Sam had put it. Just like Sam, he was vague on why or how they were turned, but spoke of it in the same negative way as Sam had.
“Sometimes I wish our family had been turned with us, but other times I’m glad they don’t have to live like us,” He said, his gaze lowered, “I, uh, had a sister. Sam and the twins did too.”
They left it at that, not wanting to drag out old memories they’d spent years burying. The topic soon switched to yourself, your family, and what was going on in the world. They hadn’t had a proper visitor in at least 10 years or so, and always made sure to stay away from the city that wasn’t far from them, so they were quite curious about the world.
About an hour into your conversation, there was a light knock on the door, and another young man stepped into the room. He was just as pretty as the others, but his hair was short and curly, reminding you of a dandelion before it gets blown away by the wind. He had the same amber-brown eyes as his brothers, a well groomed mustache and goatee, and a wide smile with too-sharp teeth. What caught your attention most was his outfit, though.
He wore a soft looking, red crushed velvet jumpsuit. It dipped down into a V at the front, ending at about the middle of his chest. The edges of the neckline were embroidered with beautiful stones that glimmered in the light. It was sleeveless and skin-tight, with a bishop cuff at the ankles that all gave it a flattering look on him.
“Why hello, you must be the guest I’ve heard so much about! It’s lovely to meet you, dear. My name is Joshua, but please, call me Josh,” His voice was similar to Jake’s, just a bit smoother and softer. You recalled Sam and Danny saying “the twins”, putting two and two together to assume they meant him and Jake. Josh held out his hand, and you took it.
Josh smiled and brought your hand up to press a kiss to the back of it as you introduced yourself, “What a lovely name, dear. I hope we’ve been sufficient enough hosts for you. We don’t normally get visitors anymore…”
Josh was the oldest of all the boys, and thus became their leader of sorts after being turned. He seemed far less wary around you, going as far as telling you he hopes you’ll stick around longer than their previous guests all had. After a while, you decide to ask about Jake.
“Jake is… he’s had a lot of bad things happen because of him interacting with the ah… normal population. It’s left him with a bit of a distrust of others that he hasn’t been able to work through. I hope you understand. He’s a kind man, he just needs time,” Josh explains, while the others nod. They all assure you that Jake is no threat, but you’re still hesitant to believe that fully after he threatened to gut you.
The three of you talked for what felt like hours, until the sun was beginning to set. They stood, turning to you.
“Ah, it’s probably about time for you to leave. You can’t hang around here come nighttime,” Josh said, leading you out of the room. Danny stayed behind, waving, while Sam followed you both.
“Why not?” You asked, and Sam responded.
“It’s when we go out to feed. Having a human around might be… tempting. It’s best to avoid any temptation at all than to risk it,” He smiled and opened the door for you, slowly reaching out to hold your hand and press a kiss to it like Josh had done, “I do hope to see you soon, though. Will I?”
You thought about it. You should leave and never come back. If not for your safety, then for your sanity. They were supposedly real life vampires, who could kill you if they wanted to. But… something about them kept you wanting to come back. So, you nodded and smiled back.
“Of course you will.”
You only got a short distance away from the manor before something dropped down from a tree, landing in front of you. It was Jake, who stood there and stared you down. You felt fear bubble up in your chest, unsure of why he followed you out here.
“Hello… um…”
“What do you want with my family? Why do you keep hanging around?” He asked, his jaw set in an unreadable expression.
“I just… I don’t know. I guess curiosity? I enjoyed talking to your brothers, and we have a surprising amount of things in common-“
He growled and stepped close, his hand on your wrist, “We have NOTHING in common. We are nothing like you, and you are nothing like us. The sooner you understand that and leave us alone, the better off you’ll be, and the less likely it’ll be that I leave your body in a ditch somewhere.”
He let go of your wrist and you stepped back, your heart pounding and the sound of blood rushing in your ears blocking everything else. You took a deep breath and kept your voice as steady as possible as you spoke.
“I promise I mean no harm to any of you… and despite how you feel, it was nice to meet you.”
He didn’t say anything as you walked past him to get to your car and head home.
————
You couldn’t come back for a few days, work and other life responsibilities getting in the way, so instead you did some researching into the Kiszka and Wagner families that lived there. Not much was recorded in history, especially once it got to the time they were alive for, but you did find the names of their families. They did both have sisters, one named Veronica and the other named Josie, plus their parents and some extended family. The only records that exist of them are birth and death records, stating they all died of an illness around the same time.
As you know, though, four of them didn’t technically die. Or did they? Are vampires technically still alive or are they dead? Are they something in between? You shook your head. It didn’t matter.
When you finally were able to go back, about a week had passed. You pulled your car up early in the morning and made your way down the path you had taken the last two times, the manor eventually coming into view. It was a nice summer day today, a nice breeze blowing through without it being too chilly out. You wore a loose T-shirt and jeans, with your regular hiking shoes on to help when heading back and forth through the wooded area.
You raised your hand to knock, just as you had the last two times you had been here, but jumped when the door swung open instead.
“Darling! I knew you’d be back!” Sam grinned, his pointed teeth glinting in the light as he pulled you inside, “I was worried we had scared you off for good…” He was smiling, but you could hear the genuine worry in his voice.
“I just had work and other life stuff to take care of, Sam. You haven’t chased me away yet,” You say with a chuckle. You caught sight of Jake on the second floor landing, frowning down at you. He turned and stalked away, towards the music room.
Sam turns to lead you up the stairs, presumably to where Danny was, but you stopped him, “Hey, um… maybe I should stay down here for today. Jake still seems pretty upset about me hanging around…”
His smile faltered, but he quickly fixed it, turning to face you, “He won’t do anything to you, I promise. But… if you wish to stay down here, then that’s alright.”
“I’d like that,” You say, “Plus, there are some things I’d like to ask you about.”
The both of you head into the sitting room with the large fireplace, Sam offering you a seat before sitting on the couch opposite to you.
“Well… Ask away I suppose!”
“So… does sunlight kill you? Do stakes and garlic? Holy water and crosses? Just how accurate are all the legends?”
Sam was a bit surprised by your question, chuckling a bit, “Well, um… sunlight doesn’t kill us, but it does burn like hell. As far as I know garlic, crosses, and holy water don’t do anything to us. And I assume anyone would die if you staked them, so… I guess that one still applies?”
“When you feed, do you have to drink all of the blood? And how long do you have between feeding?”
“It depends. We go out about every night to feed. If we fed on, ahem… larger things, it would last longer. And no, we don’t HAVE to completely drink all of it, but it’s hard to stop sometimes.”
Suddenly, a thought popped into your head. Sam said he’d never fed from a human, none of them have. What would it feel like to be bitten, to have your blood drank? Would it hurt? Would it feel numb? You know you shouldn’t ask, but…
“If I offered you some of my blood, would you drink it?”
At this question, Sam jumped up, stepping back, “Woah, what? What on Earth would you do that for!?”
You shrugged, “I’m curious. How many other people would be able to say they know what it feels like for a vampire to bite them?”
“That’s not a good reason, Darling! Did you not just hear me say that sometimes it’s hard to stop ourselves when feeding? What if I weren’t able to stop and drained you completely?” He asked, throwing his arms up, concerned by your words.
“I trust you,” You said plainly.
“You’ve known me for about 3 days. You can’t trust someone you’ve just met!”
You sighed and dropped the issue, knowing he was right, “Sorry, you’re right Sam.”
He relaxed, and you listened as he began telling you something about the house. Maybe he was right, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still curious. You’ll continue this line of questioning another day, you figured.
For now, you sat back and enjoyed your friend’s company.
————
When you left, Jake was waiting for you again, this time peeking into your car.
“Is this what automobiles look like now? The last time I saw one, they were more like a motorized carriage, not a weird, boxy hunk of metal. Why are the wheels so big?” He asked, causing you to chuckle. He frowned at you, “Don’t laugh at me, I’ll bite you.”
“I’m not laughing at you, Jake. I just forget sometimes that you all haven’t seen a lot of modern things,” You reassured him.
“And I’m fine with that. Most of your modern things aren’t any good. Minus some of your music, though I haven’t really heard modern music past… what do they call it…? The 90s?”
An idea popped into your head of how to get Jake to warm up to you quicker.
“Hey, how about i go ahead and bring some music here next time? Modern stuff, so you can find what you like?”
He’s quiet for a moment before shrugging and mumbling out a, “I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” before turning and heading back up to the manor.
Well, it’s the first conversation you’ve had with him that didn’t end in a threat, so you took it as a step forward. When you got back home, you created a playlist with as many songs as you could think of to show Jake the next time you came over, hoping this would finally be what got him to relax around you.
————
Jake really liked music, you learned. He was fascinated with the intricate solos and heavy beats of rock and metal, the deep and rhythmic sounds of blues, and even nodded his head to a couple pop songs. Really, all four of them were drawn to the music, all having their own tastes yet all being fairly similar when it came to certain genres.
And of course, they were interested in your phone. They’d had seen phones before, from people who’d come poking around in the past, but never had much of a chance to play around with one. You decided to bring things by for them to learn about with each visit, quickly looking forward to talking with them a few times a week. Even Jake warmed up to you quite a bit, far less hostile than he had been the first few meetings.
Josh enjoyed your company, not being as wary as Jake, but not quite as open as Sam was. The eldest Kiszka was quite the charmer, though he assured you his interests were completely platonic. He was the most knowledgeable of modern things, having slipped into the city nearby on occasion on a whim. He mentioned seeing a man in a fabulous jumpsuit once in the 70s, and he was obsessed with them, to the point he began making his own. In your opinion, he was quite talented at sewing, his own clothes being well-made and fitting him perfectly.
Danny was much less nervous having you around than at first, quickly enjoying talking with you about different topics. In particular, he seemed to like sports, golf specifically. He reminded you of your friend Dave, and the thought made you laugh. They’d get along great if they ever met.
And then there was Sam. Sam was different than the others, being desperate for interaction. In his own words, he’d been trapped in this house with no one else for far too long, and the days had begun running together a good hundred years ago. He loved piano, you had noticed, and was highly skilled. He’d play for you every time, his eyes shut as he just felt the music through his whole body.
Weeks passed by as you learned more and more about the four of them. The end of fall grew near, winter closing in with each day that passed. It was around this time that you began seeing things in shops around the city that reminded you of them, and an idea popped into your head. What better to signify your new friendships, than heartfelt gifts?
Yes, this would be perfect.
Roving Blade
Pirate Captain!Jake X Siren!Reader
Warnings: Slight violence, minor swearing, the usual piratey nonsense, minor sexual implications, will add more tags for future chapters
CHAPTER 2
These pirates were a lot nicer than the ones you had seen and heard of before, you had to admit. They made a large tank for you, big enough for you to fully stretch out in, and made sure to keep you well fed once they realized you could eat meat and fish. Jake kept you in his cabin, away from the prying eyes of any he didn’t trust with the knowledge of your existence.
You still would rather NOT be on this ship at all, but it could’ve been worse, you supposed.
Captain Kiszka, or Jake, as you soon heard him be called, was fascinated with you, even more so than the rest of the crew. He’d spend hours trying to communicate with you, despite the warnings from (who you assumed were) his brothers. Especially the one who shared his face; he seemed especially wary of you.
You weren’t intentionally dangerous, to your defense. It’s just in your nature to go after pirates and sailors, with them being common on the seas and usually causing a ruckus. Again, though, this one was… different. He was still dangerous and proud, as all pirates seemed to be, but he held a certain curiosity and eagerness to learn about the world, not conquer it.
Today was the same as usual, with Jake feeding you and taking notes in his journal about your habits. You’ve grown used to this, having given up on trying to understand his human writing. You may somewhat understand their spoken language, but that didn’t extend to writing.
“Can you eat things other than meat and fish?” Jake asked, tossing another fish into your tank for you to eat. You opened your mouth to show him your teeth, shaking your head. Your teeth were razor sharp, stained pink from years of eating things full of blood and meat. Jake observed your gesture, scribbling furiously in his journal. You had once tried to eat the kelp at the sea floor, curious about it. All it did was make you sick and offer no nutrients to you, so you’ve not tried it again.
“Interesting…” He muttered, tucking the journal away to look at your appearance again. This is also something he does a lot. He’ll simply stare, as if trying to engrave every detail of you into his mind. Part of you was annoyed that he wouldn’t let you go, and that he seemed so obsessed, but the other part of you was glad he seemingly had no interest in selling or killing you.
You finished off the fish, tossing the bones to the bottom of your tank and laid back on the sand that covered the cold glass at the bottom of it. Your tail shimmered in the sunlight that came in from the small porthole windows in Jake’s cabin. He stared at your scales as you eventually drifted off into a short nap.
——
Jake had been doing research any chance he got. Sometimes that meant asking the old sailors and other pirates he was friendly with about the tales of merfolk and sirens, other times it meant stealing books from homes and libraries in port towns. One thing that continually showed up was that the scales of a mermaid held magic in it that protected its holder from harm.
In some old stories, it mentioned lovestruck mermaids offering them to sailors they fancied, other times it told of sailors stealing them from the mermaids and wearing them as a trophy. He considered himself better than a common thief, but knew that there’d be no way he’d get a scale willingly from the one he captured and imprisoned.
When talking about the much more aggressive version of mermaids, aka Sirens, there wasn’t much in the way of positives about them. They were said to be bloodthirsty tricksters, using their voice to lure sailors to jump ship into their waters, where they stood no chance against the razor sharp teeth and quick reflexes of the creature. Some say sirens are the spirits of women thrown overboard, causing them to be vengeful to any sailor man they see. Others claim they’re like animals, seeking out their preferred prey, humans.
He thought back to the night he first heard it sing, remembering how close he was to doing just that. Did this creature simply want to eat him? Did it only see him as food, or a threat that needed to be taken out? Jake shook his head. It didn’t matter; it’s not like it could attack him now, being stuck aboard his ship in a tank. He eyed the scales again before turning away and heading out to the deck of the ship.
He couldn’t think about that now, he had a ship to run and a crew to manage.
——
You couldn’t figure out what this pirate wanted with you. A trophy? Research? It’s been three months, and he’s not done anything like selling you or try to even harm you. Neither did the few others he let come in to feed you or talk to him as you watched. He’s stopped scribbling in that journal so much, you noticed. Maybe it was full? Or maybe he couldn’t learn anything else about you?
So then why did he keep you around?
——
The seas were rough one morning as they sailed from the shores out to the wider parts of the sea. They kept watch, knowing these parts held far more enemies for them; other pirates, the navy, large whales and squid, and who knows what else. If Merfolk were real, who knows what else was real?
Jake was itching for something to happen, having gotten too settled down during the three months they stayed close to the shores. They had waited out some of the rougher months, but the seas still had their fair share of rough days. Today was no exception, rain pouring down and a heavy fog settling over the water. Sam was on lookout above, his eyes much better than anyone else’s.
“Captain! There’s a ship out on the starboard side, about 3 knots away I’d say. It’s flying a red flag, so I, uh, don’t think they’re friendly. Should we ready the canons and guns?” Sam shouted down to Jake, looking concerned. They had a formidable crew, but they still preferred not to fight other pirates if they had to.
Jake made a quick decision. “Ready the canons, raise the flag! If they attack, we attack ten-fold! Ready men?” His voice was loud and proud over the sound of the rain and waves, commanding his crew like he had for years.
Jake grinned as he unsheathed his sword and stood on deck, finally seeing the ship appear from the fog. It’s been too long since he’s had a good fight…
——
The sound of fighting soon appeared over the noise of the waves and weather, the booms of the canons and guns alongside the clang of swords and the shouts of both crews. You curled up at the bottom of your tank, frightened of what might happen if the other crew were to find you. You didn’t really care if the one you were on sank; you could get out of the tank rather easily and you’d be home free. But this crew had been nicer to you than most probably would be.
It felt like hours until you heard cheers of success, followed by boots approaching Jake’s cabin. You were sort of relieved it was actually Jake who walked through the door, drenched and spattered with blood, but looking victorious. He held a worn map within his grasp, grinning as he set it on his desk. He tore off his jacket, hanging it over the chair at the desk before stripping his other clothes.
You had to admit, he was handsome for a human. He was soft in some places, and muscled in others. One long scar stretched across his chest, from his shoulder to just below his ribs. You wish you could ask about it, curious of what battle that must have come from. He had a nice amount of body hair, without being too hairy like so many pirates and sailors were. You had seen him use something to trim up the hair on his face, so maybe he did the same for his body? Speaking of his body…
He was strong and sturdy, no doubt about that. But there was some softness to him too. His hips were rounder, along with his chest. Looking lower, his thighs were thick and powerful, and what hung between them seemed the same. You had seen him undress before, but usually in the dim candlelight at night, not midday.
Jake redressed, now wearing dry and (somewhat) cleaner clothes than before. Finally, he sat at his desk, opening the map. He seemed confused after a moment, looking at it from multiple angles. After but a few minutes, he stood and retrieved a book from across the room, setting it down on the desk and flipping through the pages. With each page, Jake looked more and more annoyed, as if he wasn’t finding what he wanted to.
You craned your neck, looking at the map from your tank, and were surprised to recognize the writing on the edge of it as one you could read. It seemed to be written in a language only spoken in Europe, one being forgotten with each day that passes. Despite the distance, you squinted and read the words before tapping on the glass of your tank. Jake whirled around, confused. You never try to communicate with him; it’s always the other way around.
“You… You want to tell me something?” He asks. You nod and gesture over to the map, his eyes following the movement. “The map?”
Slowly, he grabbed it off the desk, eager to be finally having a sort-of conversation with you. You tapped the glass again, asking him to hold it up. He did so, and you finally got a good look at the words. For the first time since you had enchanted him that night months ago, you breached the water of your tank and spoke to him.
“ ‘Near Santa Cruz, nestled amongst its fellow islands, lies a cavern that leads to a treasure beyond any that’s ever been found. Know that if you wish to find this treasure, you must be willing to take the risk of the curse that lies with it. No other has found this treasure and lived to tell of it besides I, Captain Christopher Turpin. May you be luckier than the others who followed my path.’ That’s what it says,” You say, looking over the edge of your tank into his eyes.
“Treasure? A cave out by Santa Cruz? This is all so much to take in… And you can speak my language? I, well, I had assumed you couldn’t since you hadn’t until now,” Jake paced back and forth, so many questions in his mind. “I’ve heard of Captain Turpin. They said he disappeared somewhere in South America with his fortune and retired years ago. If true, he should still be alive, and not too old to answer my questions…”
Jake suddenly pulled out his own map, charting out a course to South America. You tilted your head to the side, watching him curiously. Maybe if you work with this pirate, you could barter your freedom with him… It was worth a try.
Two of my OCs, but they're at a Greta Concert
Can you tell who the Josh fan is and who the Jake fan is?🤭
Andromeda (Andi) has the blue hair and Charlotte (Charlie) is their wife!
Sanguine Osculum
Upon exploring an abandoned manor deep in the woods, you find that truth is sometimes just as strange as fiction.
Vampire!Sam Kiszka x Reader
Warnings: Standard warnings for a vampire fic, along with 18+ themes in future chapters.
You'd heard the stories, of course. Deep in the woods, a desolate manor stood. The family who once called it home, they said, had all fallen victim to some illness, leaving the once bustling estate empty and unkempt.
But those who decided to explore it always spoke of an energy that seemed to exist there, of a presence that resided within the worn-down walls. Believers suggest that the spirits of the four young brothers who had once lived there still wandered the halls, unable to accept that they're no longer alive. Others just say it's a creepy old manor, empty and alone. These claims ignited a fire of curiosity within you, and you were itching to explore the place yourself.
The family, it seemed, had originated from somewhere in Europe, their lineage a long line of nobility and prestige. They were revered, held in high regard, as if royalty. Upon arriving here, however, their once illustrious name faded into obscurity. They vanished from the public eye, retreating into the confines of their manor.
This only added to your intrigue, if you were being honest. What secrets lie waiting in that old manor? Was it really haunted?
You decided one afternoon that you were going to find out for yourself, which is how you ended up stood in front of the dilapidated manor, a large pack on your back and anticipation thrumming under your skin.
The manor, once a symbol of opulence and prosperity, now sat in a state of disrepair and loneliness. Time had not been kind to the large estate, with ivy creeping up the decaying walls, nature reclaiming what was once its own. The windows, many shattered, stared out into the world with hollow eyes, as if yearning for what it once was.
The doors were still functional, with a large, ornate knocker staring back at you. Just for the hell of it, you lifted the heavy iron knocker and let it hit the door once, the noise echoing through the halls.
Nothing seemed to jump out at you, no ghosts, no squatters, no animals, so you assumed the place really was empty. You pushed the heavy door open with your shoulder, grateful you had worn something you didn't mind getting messed up as a loose splinter tore a small rip in your sleeve.
While the outside of the manor was in a rather sad state, the inside was surprisingly intact. It was dusty, sure, and some things here and there seemed damaged, but most of the furniture and knicknacks still sat as if no time had passed.
The foyer, once a grand entrance hall, greeted you with faded elegance. The air hung heavy with the scent of neglect, mingling with the faint aroma of aged wood and mothballs. Rays of sunlight filtered through the cracked and dusty windows, casting a dappled light on the old wooden floors. The faded paintings on the walls, still intact beneath the layers of dust, spoke of a time when this place was alive with laughter and vibrant conversations.
You were glad you had decided to bring your camera with you, eager to get photos of this beautiful place. Even the kitchen was elegant; black and white stone floor, white brick walls, and dark stained wood throughout the room spoke of the wealth of the family who once lived here. You wondered what kind of meals they enjoyed that were prepared here.
Your feet carried you to what seemed to be a ballroom of sorts. A large grand piano sat in a corner, intricate carvings decorating its glossy exterior. You were surprised by the lack of dust on it, as if someone took care of it.
The room itself was vast, adorned with chandeliers that hung precariously from the ceiling, their crystal droplets dulled and tarnished. The walls, once adorned with opulent tapestries and intricate artwork, now displayed faded remnants of their former glory. Gossamer curtains, moth-eaten and tattered, danced with the breeze that seeped through the broken windows, casting eerie shadows on the worn parquet floor.
As you reached the old piano, you felt a shiver up your spine. It felt like there were eyes on you, silently watching from some darkened corner. Looking around the sprawling ballroom revealed nothing, not even a mouse scuttling across the floor. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you couldn't shake that feeling.
And maybe you were just overly superstitious, but you didn't want to risk having a ghost angry at you for touching their stuff without asking.
"I-" You spoke up, stuttering at the way your voice echoed throughout the empty room, "I hope you don't mind if I play your piano. I won't break it, I promise."
And suddenly, you felt the tension in the room disappear, as if whoever was watching you was giving you permission.
You gently sat on the wooden bench, letting your fingers drift to the keys. Playing it, you were surprised to find it was still mostly in-key. You didn't know how to play much on the piano, just some simple melodies, but you enjoyed playing it, nonetheless. To be able to play a piece of history was so exciting to you.
You still felt watched as you played, but the gaze felt more curious now. Once you finished playing, you stood from the piano and glanced around the large room.
"Thanks for letting me play. I'll leave you be now," You say again to the seemingly empty room before heading back to the front room.
The sweeping staircase, its banister worn but still sturdy, beckoned you to explore the upper floors. Each step you took echoed through the empty space, reminding you of the tragedy that took place here. You couldn't help but wonder about the lives that once ascended these steps, the footsteps that once filled the hollow emptiness.
Rooms branched off from the main staircase, some to the left and some to the right. The right seemed to be bedrooms, which you left for later. The first room you came across was a library.
As you stepped into the dimly lit space, you couldn't help but be captivated by the sight before you. The room was lined from floor to ceiling with towering bookshelves, their wooden frames weathered by time. The shelves were filled with rows upon rows of books, their spines bearing the weight of forgotten stories and hidden knowledge.
Sunlight filtered through the dust-laden windows, casting an ethereal glow that danced upon the countless volumes. Each ray seemed to breathe life into the forgotten tales, giving them a chance to whisper their secrets once more. You could almost imagine the whispers of the authors, their words suspended in the air, waiting for someone to pick them up.
You ran your fingers along the books as you made your way deeper into the room, marveling at the fragility of their spines and the delicate scent of aged parchment that filled the air. The room was silent, save for the faint rustling of pages as the wind tiptoed through the cracks in the windows.
As you reached the center of the library, your eyes were drawn to an ornate desk, tucked away in a corner. The desk stood proud, its surface adorned with intricate carvings of flowers and vines. You felt watched once more, but this gaze was different. It was wary, but more gentle.
Speaking eased the tension last time, so you decided to do so again.
"Hello... I'm just here to look around. I won't take any of the books."
And again, the air felt calmer. You were certain there was a presence here, but it didn't seem angry or violent. Just... watchful. Careful of it's possessions.
You read some of the papers that sat on the desk. They seemed to be poems, or maybe songs, your eyes trailing along the faded ink. You didn't stay in the library very long, the dust making your throat tickle. You thanked the unseen presence again before moving on.
The room next door was a music room of some sort. Various instruments lay around the room, though two caught your interest: a beautiful violin and a very old guitar. At this point, you weren't surprised when you felt watched again, though this time, you felt a bit of annoyance seep into the room. You decided it would be best to leave the instruments alone; whatever was watching you seemed protective of them.
"I won't touch your things, I promise."
The tension cooled slightly, but you could still tell that you weren't wanted in here.
"Sorry if I'm intruding... I'll take my leave now."
You quickly exited the music room, letting out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. You decided to leave that room be for now; whatever was in there didn't want you in there with it.
The last room on the left side was a sitting room, bathed in the faint light of the slowly setting sun. As you stepped inside, your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. The air hung heavy with the scent of aged wood and lingering spirits.
An ornate bar, its polished surface covered by empty liquor bottles, commanded attention, taking up a large portion of the room. Crystal decanters, now empty and collecting dust, stood alongside tarnished glasses.
On the other end of the room, nestled beneath the glow of an antique chandelier, sat a cluster of chairs. Their faded upholstery now bore the marks of time, their frayed edges and worn cushions a result of the passage of years. A pool table, its green baize cloth marked with faint traces of chalk, stood nearby, its wooden frame showing signs of wear and tear.
You set your bag down and sank into one of the large chairs, the worn leather creaking softly beneath your weight. It was then that you felt it—an inexplicable shift in the atmosphere, as if the room had come alive with an unseen presence. The air crackled with a tangible energy, and a shiver danced its way down your spine.
The feeling of being watched returned, but this time, it was different. It was no longer a mere gaze, but a physical presence that settled in the room with you. You could almost feel the wamth of another person, almost feel the subtle disturbance of the air as they moved.
And then, in the periphery of your vision, you saw it. There was a flicker of movement, a shadow cast against the wall. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned your head, eyes narrowing in an attempt to make sense of the mysterious figure that now stood before you.
You could see dark curly hair and a white ruffled shirt, like the ones you'd see in those period dramas. Curious, dark eyes stared back at you as you stood on shaking legs, unsure of what you were looking at. The figure stepped closer, and you could finally see the rest of his features.
He was handsome, and reminded you of the old Greek statues you'd seen at the art museum once. There was something off about him, though, and his movements were too quiet for your liking.
It took a minute to find your voice, and it trembled once you did.
"H-Hello... I'm sorry for intruding..."
The young man looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow before finally speaking.
"You should leave. Your kind shouldn't be here. It's not safe."
His voice was low and rough, but there was a softer tone to the second half, as if he were genuinely concerned for you.
"U-um... okay..."
You glanced at the door, slowly walking to it and keeping your distance from the man.
"Can I ask if you're-"
"You really should take your leave. It's not wise to be here right now," he repeated.
You decided to take heed of his warning, slipping out of the room and back into the hallway. The air felt different than before, as if the manor itself was watching you. You quickly headed back down the staircase and out the front door, your heart thumping out of your chest.
Honestly you hadn't even realized it was so late, too enveloped in exploring. Reaching for your cell phone, you came back empty handed.
Shit. You left your bag upstairs.
You couldn't just leave it behind; you didn't have that kind of money. And your camera was in it too, and you definitely didn't want to lose that.
So, with a deep breath, you re-entered the manor. Climbing the stairs, you felt like you were making a mistake, but you continued on. You had to.
As you reached the landing, you could see the door leading to the sitting room standing ajar, a sliver of light peeking through the crack. Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound reverberating in your ears as you approached cautiously, one hesitant step at a time.
Pushing the door open, you entered the room once again, your eyes instantly drawn to the spot where you had left your bag. It lay there, innocently perched upon the worn chair, waiting patiently for your return.
With a sigh of relief, you hurriedly retrieved your bag, pulling it over your shoulders before turning around and running directly into the young man from before.
"Why are you still here?" He asked, worry in his tone.
"I- um, forgot my things..." You replied, shocked that he wasn't a ghost like you first though. His body was physical, clearly, as you had run into him. His skin was cooler than your own, but not wildly so.
"Leave now. Please," He gently pushed you out of the room, and his tone worried you.
In your rush to head down the stairs, however, you slipped. You felt the ground approaching your face, and closed your eyes as you braced yourself for impact. But it never came. Instead, you felt gentle arms around you, and a new voice spoke quietly into your ear.
"Easy, Darling..."
You opened your eyes and looked up, your eyes meeting honey brown ones. This was a different young man, his short brown hair slicked back, showing off his soft features and slight stubble. He wore an off white ruffled shirt with a fancy jacket over it, his dainty features giving him a charming look overall.
"You should be more careful, Darling. You could've gotten hurt."
He had a boyish tone to his voice and didn't look like he was much different in age to yourself, though you could've been wrong. His hands were a bit clammy, but you ignored it as he helped you to the front door.
"I'm sorry, I-"
"It's quite alright, Darling," He cut you off, before smiling softly, "Now, I must ask you to head back home. You shouldn't linger around strange places so late..."
You swallowed and nodded, not missing the way he looked you up and down, his gaze landing back on your face.
"As lovely as it was to meet you and listen to you play, Darling, I must ask that you not return. It's simply for your own safety. Oh, and don't tell anyone you saw us. We don't like visitors..."
You nodded again. You certainly wouldn't be telling anyone about this. It's not like they'd believe you.
The young man smiled again, giving you a slight bow.
"Have a lovely night, Darling," He whispered, closing the door once more.
As you drove home that night, only one thought filled your head.
You had to go back to that place.
-------
The manor seemed just as empty as before when you decided to return, just days later. The overgrown ivy still twisted around the stone walls, casting eerie shadows in the fading light of dusk. The looming structure stood as a silent sentinel, guarding its secrets within. The heavy oak door beckoned you forward, its intricate carvings a stark contrast to the peeling paint and weathered facade. You wondered for a moment if you imagined the strange people who you had met the last time.
You were tempted to raise the heavy knocker once again, but you knew deep down that you would get no response. The manor still seemed abandoned, frozen in time, a relic of a bygone era. Yet, faintly, you could hear what sounded like music drifting through the air, carried on a haunting melody.
Intrigued and unable to resist the allure of the sound, you stepped into the manor once more. The music was drawing you deeper into its depths, the soft creaking of floorboards beneath your feet adding to the somber ambiance that surrounded you.
After a minute of wandering the lower halls, you finally reached the grand ballroom. The doors stood ajar, revealing a scene straight out of a dream— or perhaps out of a period drama.
In the corner of the room, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, a figure sat at the grand piano. His fingers danced across the keys with effortless grace, conjuring a haunting melody that seemed to reach the very core of your being.
Stepping closer, you recognized him as the young man from before, the one who caught you on the stairs. You couldn't see much of his face from where you stood, but managed to see that his eyes were closed and he seemed to move with the music. His brow would furrow and relax with the highs and lows of the melody, and his mouth hung slightly open, quiet mumbles spilling out unconsciously.
The scene before you was captivating, almost surreal in its beauty and mystery. The candlelight cast dancing shadows across the room, adding an ethereal quality to the young man's performance. The melody he played seemed to echo through the vast ballroom, filling the space with a sense of melancholy and longing.
As you watched him, you couldn't help but be drawn in by his music. Each note was played with such emotion and skill, his fingers gliding effortlessly across the keys. It was as though the piano was an extension of his own body, each chord and harmony a reflection of himself.
His body swayed with the music, his movements fluid and graceful. You could sense the passion and dedication he poured into his playing, his entire being consumed by the haunting melody that filled the room. It was a performance unlike any other, and one you knew he expected no one to see.
As the music reached a crescendo, his eyes fluttered open, revealing depths of honey brown that seemed to hold a thousand thoughts at once. But then, he played a sour note, his body going stiff as he slowly turned to make eye contact with you.
"What are you doing here...?" He asked, his voice laced with confusion, "I thought I asked you not to come back."
He stood quickly, his movements as graceful as a dancer.
"I'm sorry... I just- I had to... I needed to make sure what I saw last time was real..." You tried to explain, stumbling over your words as he approached.
"As much as I'd love to keep your company, darling, you can't be here," He whispered, using that name again. The one that only made you want to stay here longer. He stopped a few feet away from you and stood so still you couldn't even see him breathe. It was as if he was afraid to come closer, or even breathe the same air as you.
"Why is it so dangerous to be here?" You asked, taking a step forward, "That's what the other boy said too, the one with the curly black hair."
The young man tilted his head to the side, "Curly black hair... you met Daniel?" His confusion turned to concern, "You didn't happen to meet anyone else, did you?"
You shook your head.
He reached out, as if to turn you towards the door, "Then you still have a chance to leave. I'd do so before either of them know you're snooping around here again-"
"Sam?"
Another man's voice echoed down from the top of the stairs, and the brown haired boy, Sam apparently, stiffened.
"Damnit..." He muttered, grabbing your arm and leading you to a closet, "Stay in here and do not make a sound. Just trust me."
With that, he pushed you in and shut the door, leaving you in the dark, dusty storage closet. You pressed your ear against the door, straining to catch any sound from outside.
The muffled voices of Sam and the newcomer drifted through the wooden barrier, "Sam? Who's down here with you?" This voice was lower and had a slight rasp to it compared to Sam's more boyish tone.
"There's no one here, Jake. It's just me."
The other man, Jake, seemed to be unsure of that answer, his footsteps coming every so slightly closer.
"I can smell that someone else was here, Sam. You know that no one can-"
"Jake, it's probably just from the person who was here the other day. They were messing with my piano, so it probably still has their scent," Sam explained, though you didn't understand what he meant. You didn't stink, did you? You sniffed yourself but could only smell the dust and mildew in the closet. It tickled your nose, and you did all you could to hold in the sneeze threatening to come out.
"Maybe... I just don't like it when people come snooping around. If any of them find out, they'll be here with pitchforks and torches by nightfall."
Unfortunately, you could only hold in the sneeze for so long.
"Achoo! ... shit..."
The sound echoed through the dark, dusty closet, interrupting the stillness that had enveloped the space. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized your cover had been blown. The muffled voices of Sam and Jake abruptly halted, replaced by a heavy silence that seemed to last forever despite it only being a few moments.
The closet door was suddenly flung open as you locked eyes with who you assumed was Jake. His brown hair fell effortlessly to his shoulders, and there was an undeniable elegance about him, an air of regality that seemed to set him apart from the others. His outfit was different too; a red vest and jacket that showed off much of his chest and the necklaces that lay there, paired with red suit pants and white pointed dress shoes
But it was his eyes that captivated you the most. Like Sam's, they were a piercing amber-brown, but there was something about the way Jake looked at you that made you shiver. It was as if he was looking through you instead of at you. It was both unsettling and electrifying.
His lips curled into a snarl, revealing unusually sharp teeth that glinted in the sparse illumination, adding to his menacing demeanor. Without a word, he grabbed the front of your shirt, his grip firm and unyielding as he backed you against the wall.
With his face mere inches from yours, you could see every detail of his nearly perfect skin. His gaze bore into you, as if searching for answers you were not even sure you had. The intensity in his eyes was like a storm brewing, ready to unleash its fury at any moment.
"Who the hell are you, and why are you here?" His voice was low and dangerous, each word dripping with anger. The weight of his question pressed down on you, demanding a response that you struggled to form.
You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the sound of your own fearful breaths. In that moment, you felt like a mouse caught in the gaze of a cat, helpless and exposed.
The seconds stretched on, each heartbeat echoing in your ears like a drumbeat of impending danger. The dim light cast shadows across Jake's face, accentuating the sharp angles and the intensity of his gaze. It was as if time itself had slowed down, trapping you in this moment of uncertainty and fear.
But just as you thought you might crumble under the weight of his scrutiny, Sam spoke up, placing a hand on Jake's arm, "Let them go, Jake. I promise they're not a threat to us."
Jake's grip on your shirt loosened slightly, but his gaze remained fixed on you, "You know their kind and our kind aren't exactly friends, right, Sam? What's stopping them from ratting us out the second they leave?"
Ratting them out about what? For being weirdos living in some old manor in the woods?
"I- I won't say anything! I swear on my life!" You manage to blurt out, the words tumbling out of you in a desperate plea.
Sam butted in again, "Jake, please. It's the one chance we have to see what people are up to now. Please?" He sounded like a child begging their parent to let them keep a new pet.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jake released his hold on you, stepping back with a wary look in his eyes, "Fine. But if you say one word to anyone, I'll gut you."
Jake turned on his heel and stormed off, his coat billowing behind him. His footsteps echoed through the empty hallway, fading into the distance like a distant thunderstorm. Alone with Sam now, you turned to face him, taking in the subtle downturn of his shoulders and the crease of worry etched into his brow.
"I apologize about him. He doesn't trust people very much anymore..." Sam's voice was apologetic and worried, "He'll eventually get over it. Just, ah, please don't tell anyone about us?"
You sighed in annoyance, still confused about all this, "Tell anyone what?? I still have no idea what or who you guys are!"
It was Sam's turn to seem confused.
"You... you don't? I assumed you had returned because you figured it out..." Sam trailed off, suddenly looking a bit embarrassed, his brows knitting together in a perplexed expression.
"Oh. Well... hmm..." Sam's voice trailed off, suddenly less sure sounding than before.
"Well?" you prompted.
Sam took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of whatever knowledge he carried. He took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I, um... my brothers and I... we're not human. Not anymore, at least..." Sam's voice wavered, the confession weighing down his every syllable.
You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit, but all you found was raw vulnerability.
"You're... not human?" The words felt foreign on your tongue, a question you'd never thought you'd say.
Sam nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, "We're something else now. Something different..." His features were drawn with worry, his eyes pleading for understanding, "I know this is a lot to take in, but please... we mean no harm. We're just trying to survive, to exist in a world that isn't made for us."
Not human.
The words echoed in your thoughts as questions fought for attention in your mind, demanding answers that seemed to slip through your grasp like water through a sieve. Not human. Then what was he?
You could touch them, so probably not ghosts; they weren't rotting in front of you, so not zombies, a voice in your mind reasoned, trying to make sense of the impossible truth standing before you.
You looked at Sam, truly looked at him, and actually took in his features. His smooth, perfect skin that accentuated the sharp angles of his face, his amber eyes that leaned a little more red than brown, and his too-sharp teeth, elongated and pointed, glistening slightly under the light filtering through the dusty windows.
Oh.
It all made sense.
The pieces of the puzzle fell into place with a resounding click, and suddenly, the world around you seemed to shift. Sam stood before you, a creature of the night, a being that belonged to the shadows.
"You... You're a vampire??" You ask in a hushed tone, a part of you still not believing it.
Sam nodded slowly, his features softened by a hint of sadness, "Yes, I am. And so are my brothers. We... we never wanted this life, but it chose us nonetheless." His voice was a whisper, full of longing for a world long gone.
"Do you... feed on people?" You ask, stepping back.
"No! None of us do. We can stay satiated enough with the wildlife in the surrounding forest," Sam assured you, taking a step to keep the same distance between you both, "Trust me, I don't like it either. I didnt like eating animals even before becoming this. But I can assure you that none of us will hurt you."
You cast a glance to the doorway where Jake had just stormed off, "What about him?"
"Jake's just highly overprotective of us. Most people tend to run screaming when they discover they're standing in a house full of vampires."
You stayed still for a moment, considering your options. You could run away like others apparently had, and try to forget this place and it's otherworldly inhabitants. But there was something in Sam's demeanor, a certain earnestness in his voice, that made you want to stay.
"You promise none of you will hurt me?" You ask, watching as Sam's face perks up at your words.
"I promise. I swear on my eternal life," Sam grinned, placing a hand over his heart. His teeth glinted in the light, but strangely, you weren't scared of him.
"Alright then. I'll trust you... Sam, was it?" You say, relaxing slightly.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I never introduced myself, did I? My name is Samuel Francis Kiszka, and it's a pleasure to meet you, darling," Sam bowed dramatically, peeking up at you after a moment with another grin, "But you may call me Sam."
You told Sam your own name, chuckling when he decided to keep referring to you as "darling" instead.
"Now, I'd love to give you the grand tour, if you'd like?"
You, of course, agreed.
As Sam led you through the dimly lit corridors of the mansion, you couldn't help but marvel at the grandeur of the place. You followed Sam's tall figure, his movements graceful yet purposeful, as he showed you around the rooms you had only briefly passed through before.
The ballroom, with its ornate chandeliers and marble floors, stood as a reminder a bygone era. Sam spoke of the nights when music and laughter filled the room, when guests twirled in elegant gowns and tailored suits. His voice echoed in the vast space, recounting tales of extravagant parties and lavish gatherings that once graced the halls.
Next, he guided you to the kitchen, where the scent of spices and herbs still lingered in the air, even under all the dust. The massive hearth, now cold and dark, had once been the heart of the bustling room. Sam pointed out the intricately carved cabinets and shelves, explaining how the pantry used to aways be stocked with supplies from the nearby village, ensuring that those living in the manor at that time never went hungry.
Moving on, you entered the dining room, its long table still set with fine china and silverware. The high-backed chairs stood empty, a stark reminder of the absence of guests. Sam's voice softened as he described the family meals shared around the table, the laughter and arguments that had once filled the room now reduced to nothing but memories in his mind.
The last major room you were shown on the lower floor was the main sitting room. Though also covered in a layer of dust and it's windows cracked and curtains torn, it still seemed grand. The large couches were made of fine velvet and leather, clearly expensive in their time and still worth a hefty sum today. The large fireplace, all of its bricks imported from Europe according to Sam, used go heat nearly the whole house.
"Though, we don't really have a need to keep cool or warm anymore. In fact, we seem to run colder than ever before," Sam explained, "We can feel warmth but it doesn't do much, Sam continued, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. As he spoke, you noticed a flicker of something in his eyes, a distant longing for sensations that he could no longer fully experience.
The warmth of a crackling fire, the gentle touch of sunlight on his skin – all of no use to him in the eternity of his existence. Maybe all the romance novels had made you forget how lonely the life of an immortal must be.
"But enough about me," Sam turned to head out of the sitting room, gesturing to the large staircase, "I think you should formally meet my brothers."
---------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER 2:
Roving Blade
Pirate Captain!Jake X Siren!Reader
Warnings: Slight violence, minor swearing, the usual piratey nonsense, more tags will be added for later chapters
Captain Jacob Kiszka stood at the helm of his ship, The Mirador, the salty breeze tousling his long brown hair as he gazed out over the vast expanse of the shimmering sea. His amber eyes, usually sharp and focused, softened as he watched the sun dipping below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the restless waves.
The crew of the ship, a formidable bunch that Jake personally handpicked to travel with him, moved about with purpose. He gave quick glances to the three most important members of his crew.
There was Daniel Wagner, his best friend and honorary brother. Danny moved with practiced ease as he checked the cannons and gear over once more, his dark, curly hair catching the last rays of sunlight like a halo.
Then there was Samuel Kiszka, the youngest of the Kiszka brothers. His long brown hair trailing behind him in the wind and a smile playing on his lips as he effortlessly climbed up the intricate rigging of the ship to check the sails.
Most important to Jake, there was Josh, Jake's twin and his right-hand man. No one besides Sam and Danny knew much about them. One day, two teenagers just appeared with a ship, their kid brother, and another young boy who they dubbed their honorary brother, wreaking havoc on the seas.
Captain Jake was well known for his conquests, his reputation as a fearless and cunning pirate preceeding him. Tales of his daring escapades and his uncanny ability to outwit even the most formidable foes made their way through the taverns of every port town they passed through.
But amidst the whispers of his legendary exploits, there was a softer side to Jake that few were privy to. It was a deep longing within his soul that even the most precious treasures of the world could not quell.
He had everything he could ever want, except the one thing money couldn't buy.
It was that same longing that brought him to stand alone on the deck most nights while his crew slumbered below.
The night enveloped the ship like a velvet cloak, the only illumination coming from the moon's silvery glow dancing on the restless waves. He had a bottle of whiskey in one hand, the other keeping him upright as he leaned against the railing, looking out over the dark waters.
Feeling rather melancholic, he softly sang into the vast expanse of the ocean, letting the melody carry his emotions out into the night air, "I dreamed a dream, the other night... Lowlands, lowlands away me John... My love she came, dressed all in white..."
It wasn't often he sang, even when the crew would break into various shanties during the day. He'd let them have their fun, only joining in for a line or two. But when it was just him, the sea, and a bottle of booze, he let himself relax fully.
"I dreamed my love came in my sleep... Lowlands, lowlands away me John... Her cheeks were wet, her eyes did weep... Lowlands away..."
Far below where Jake stood, something stirred, roused awake by his singing. They swam up from the depths, and a ripple broke the surface of the water as they peeked above with a curious tilt to their head.
Their wide eyes held a mix of wonder and wariness as they regarded the figure of the pirate standing on the deck above. They couldn't help but sing along with Jake, completing the melody.
Their voice was like liquid silver, weaving through the night air with a hypnotic quality. The soft, melodic tones wrapped around Jake like a gentle embrace, harmonizing in a way that felt almost otherworldly.
Jake turned, drawn by a sensation he couldn't quite explain, to see the source of the enchanting hum. He felt almost sleepy as he took a step forward, then another, before climbing up on the railing, desperate to get to the source of the voice.
"Jake!"
Before Jake could tumble over the ledge, he was yanked back on deck by his twin, Josh. The sudden jolt of being pulled back from the edge of the ship brought Jake back to his senses, his heart pounding in his chest as he stumbled backward.
Josh's grip on Jake's arm was firm, his expression a mixture of concern and exasperation. "What the hell are you doing, Jake? Are you trying to take a dive into the ocean in the dead of night?"
Shaken from the trance-like state that the mesmerizing voice had cast upon him, Jake blinked rapidly, his mind struggling to catch up with the abrupt return to reality, "I... I heard something, Josh. A voice, singing. It was... enchanting," he stammered.
Josh arched an eyebrow, casting a wary glance over the empty, dark waters that surrounded the ship. "Enchanting, you say? Are you sure that bottle of whiskey hasn't played tricks on your ears, brother?" His tone was laced with slight amusement, though beneath it lay heavy concern for his twin's well-being.
"I'm telling you, Josh, I know I heard something," Jake repeated. His amber eyes searched the darkness beyond the ship, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of the source of the ethereal voice that had captivated him moments ago.
Josh knew Jake to be a man with an open mind, but the notion of a mystical encounter with a creature of legend seemed too fantastical even for Jake's vivid imagination. Yet, the intensity in Jake's gaze concerned Josh.
"Jake, you've been drinking too long. Your mind is playing tricks on you," Josh remarked, "We should get you to bed."
Jake didn't oppose him this time, choosing to let Josh lead him back to his quarters. Despite Josh's attempts to reassure him that it was just the alcohol playing tricks on his senses, Jake couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to that voice that had reached out to him in the night.
He knew something was out there, and he knew he would find it.
--
The first rays of the morning sun filtered through the small porthole in Jake's cabin, casting a warm golden glow over the rumpled sheets of his bed. As he slowly stirred from his slumber, a dull ache reverberated through his skull. With a groan, he raised a hand to his temple, trying to ease the throbbing sensation.
Blinking his eyes open, Jake's gaze fell upon the scene before him. He was still mostly dressed, the fabric rumpled from a restless night's sleep. A heavy sense of unease settled in his chest as he took in the sight of the empty whiskey bottle lying on its side, its contents drained to the last drop.
With a determined shake of his head, Jake pushed himself up from the bed, his bare feet meeting the cool wooden floorboards of his cabin. He pulled his boots back on, lazily fixing his clothes and running his fingers through his hair to untangle any knots.
As he made his way above deck, the salty tang of the sea air greeted him, mingling with the crisp morning breeze that tousled his long brown locks. His crew was already up and about, milling about purposefully as they prepared to get moving once more.
"Captain! How are you this morning?" Josh jogged up to Jake, lowering his voice once he was close enough, "You all good after last night, Jake? Ya had me a bit worried with all your talk of "enchanting voices" calling you out to sea."
"Don't worry, Josh, I'm fine," Jake replied, giving him a reassuring grin.
Josh nodded, though unconvinced. Still, he didn't press the issue further; once they were out of these waters, they'd be far enough away from whatever had caused Jake to nearly go overboard.
The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a brilliant shine over the endless expanse of the sea. The ship cut through the waves with a rhythmic cadence, the creaking of the timbers, and the flapping of sails providing a backdrop to the bustling activity of the crew.
As the day wore on, Jake found himself drawn back to the railing, the memory of the voice from the night before lingering in his mind like a half-remembered dream. He scanned the horizon, his gaze searching for any sign of the mysterious singer who had captivated him.
But the vast ocean offered no clues, no hints as to the identity of the voice that had reached out to him in the darkness. Disheartened yet determined, Jake turned his attention to his duties as a captain, barking orders and overseeing the crew as they worked tirelessly to navigate the ship through the unpredictable waters.
It took them only a day to land in the next port town. It was little more than a speck on the map, and the locals were (rightfully) unsure how much they liked the presence of Jake and his crew. But once Jake provided them with a hefty pouch of coins in return for their stay, they seemed to relax around the visitors.
While the rest of his crew made the most of their short time on land, Jake stayed by the beach, lost in thought. He didn't hear someone approach from behind him until a hand landed upon his shoulder.
Startled at the unexpected touch, Jake jumped, whipping around with his hand on the hilt of his sword. He relaxed once he realized it was only Danny.
"Sorry, Jake, didn't mean to scare 'ya there," Danny chuckled, raising his hands in surrender, "I just came to see if you were alright. Josh was tellin' us that you had quite the experience last night."
"I already told him I was fine. Nothin' I can't handle," Jake scoffed, "I just drank a bit too much is all."
The sun hung low on the horizon now, casting a warm golden hue over the sandy shores. Seagulls wheeled overhead, their raucous cries mingling with the distant sounds of the bustling port town.
"I know you, Jake. You don't really think that," Danny's voice cut through the other sounds, matter-of-factly challenging Jake's earlier dismissal.
Jake's amber brown eyes flickered with frustration as he turned to face Danny, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his expression, "No, I don't. I know I heard something out there, and as much as I want to believe it was anything else, a part of me knows what it was."
In all honesty, Jake knew what it was from the moment he was pulled back from nearly jumping overboard.
Sirens, mermaids, water nymphs – the names swirled like a tempest in his thoughts, each one carrying with it a weight of ancient legends and cautionary tales.
He knew the stories, the warnings whispered by seasoned sailors and woven into the very fabric of maritime lore. The enchanting melodies that lured unsuspecting souls to their watery graves, the haunting beauty that masked a deadly intent. The descriptions varied, but the outcome was always the same – a fate sealed by the irresistible call of the sea.
Danny's voice carried a note of urgency, a sailor's instinct honed by years spent navigating treacherous waters, "If we're on the same page, then I reckon we should probably leave these waters sooner rather than later. The longer we stay, the more likely we'll lose someone-"
Jake, his jaw set in a firm line, cut him off before he could finish, "No. I'm not running away with my tail between my legs like a scared mutt."
"But Jake-"
"If you all want to stay ashore, then go ahead. I'll go on my own if I have to."
Realizing he was getting nowhere with this, Danny sighed and stood up, "I'm with you if this is something you need to do, Jake. I trust you." And with that, he turned and headed back up towards the town, presumably to tell the others what Jake had decided.
Call it bravery, call it greed, Jake didn't care. If it really was a creature of myth that tried to call him to the sea, he had to see it for himself.
Upon returning to his crew, Jake said only one thing.
"Lads, it's time to go fishing."
-----
Jake knew it wouldn't be easy to catch a Siren; as far as he knew, it's never been done. The moon hung low in the sky, its silvery light dancing on the gentle waves that lapped against the sides of the ship.
The air was heavy with anticipation, a palpable energy that crackled in the salty breeze. Jake stood at the helm, his eyes fixed ahead and his heart pounding with excitement. The familiar weight of his sword at his side was a gounding presence, a reminder of the danger he was putting himself and the rest of his crew in.
The crew worked swiftly and silently, their movements guided by the rhythm of the ocean. The sails billowed overhead, and lanterns cast a warm glow on the deck, creating long shadows that danced with the gentle sway of the ship.
As they sailed further into the darkness, the stars above seemed to multiply, sprinkling the sky like scattered diamonds. The night was alive with the symphony of the sea – the creaking of the ship, the soft lapping of the waves, the distant cries of seabirds.
He had told them all his plan to catch this mystical creature earlier in the day.
First, they would head out to the approximate location they had been at the first time Jake heard the singing. Once there, the rest of the crew would turn out the lights and stay silent while Jake lured it out. And finally, if that worked, they had just the thing to capture it.
Months before, Danny and Sam had come to Jake with an idea of theirs - a smaller sized cannon that could launch a net much farther than the crew could throw it. At first, Jake had dismissed the idea as nothing more than a fanciful whim, a contraption that seemed more suited for a circus act than a pirate ship.
But now, he found himself reconsidering their proposal. After employing the help of a blacksmith in town and testing it out many times, their net contraption was ready for use.
When they dropped anchor, the ship rocking gently against the current was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. Jake stood at the edge of the deck, rough rope tied securely around his waist, a lifeline in case the plan went awry. Josh had insisted upon everyone being tethered down, unwilling to go through with the plan without it.
The rest of the crew got into position, staying silent and hidden so as not to alert their target of any danger. Sam and Danny waited for the perfect moment to launch the net, while Josh kneeled beside the rope keeping his twin tethered to the ship, just in case anything went wrong.
With everything ready and in place, Jake began to hum a tune, hoping it would draw the siren, or whatever it was, to him once more.
An hour passed with no sign of any response, and Jake began to grow doubtful of his plan working. The night seemed to stretch on endlessly, the only sounds the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull, the creaking of the ship as it swayed with the current, and the occasional distant cry of a seabird
The moon hung like a silver coin in the sky, casting a ghostly light over the dark waters. Jake stood at the edge of the ship, his heart heavy with uncertainty. His amber brown eyes scanned the horizon, searching for any sign of movement, any glimmer in the darkness that would signify the presence of the elusive creature he sought.
The crew, hidden in the shadows, watched with bated breath, their anticipation palpable in the still night air. Danny's brow furrowed, his trust in the plan wavering as the minutes passed. Sam shifted from one foot to the other, anxiously tapping his fingers against his thigh as he waited. Josh remained close to the tether, his hands gripping the rope tightly as he kept a vigilant watch over his twin brother.
As the minutes ticked by, doubts crept into Jake's mind. What if there was nothing here? What if this was all a wild goose chase, brought on by wild maritime tales? Had he really been so foolish?
Just as he was about to call it all off, a soft melody began to weave through the stillness of the night.
"My heart is pierced by cupid, I disdain all glittering gold... There is nothing can console me but my jolly sailor bold..."
A dim light could be seen just a few meters from the side of the ship, ripples disturbing the water as something poked its head above the waves. And this time, Jake kept his eyes on it.
Even in the dim moonlight, he could see the way the its skin seemed to have an unearthy shimmer to it, like the surface of a pearl. Wide, large eyes stared back at him, and he yearned to get just a little closer to them.
"His hair it hangs in dark waves, his eyes like amber coals... my happiness is with him, wherever he may go..."
Just as Jake leaned closer, half his body over the railing, Josh held the rope tight and shouted, "Now!"
The command pierced through the night like a cannon blast, igniting a flurry of movement on the deck. Sam and Danny sprang into action, their trained muscles working in perfect synchrony as they released the tension on the contraption. The makeshift cannon roared to life, propelling the net with incredible force towards the shimmering figure in the water.
There was no time for them to dive back below the waves. The net soared through the air, a tangled mass of ropes and weights hurtling towards the mysterious creature that had entranced Jake with its haunting melody. The impact was like a thunderclap in the silent night, the net enveloping the creature in a cacophony of splashes and thrashes. The water frothed and churned as the siren fought against its restraints, desperate cries echoing across the dark expanse of the sea.
Jake, his heart pounding in his chest, felt a surge of adrenaline as he regained his awareness. His eyes blazed with determination as he took control of the situation, his voice cutting through the chaos with authority, "Pull, boys! Bring it up on deck!"
It was clear that after only a few minutes, their target was tired out, the thrashing and fighting much weaker than before. With one last pull, they were dragged from the water and up to the deck of the ship.
They were more beautiful than Jake ever expected. Those wide eyes seemed to look through Jake, as if seeing something in him that he could not. The iridescent sheen of their skin was mesmerizing, akin to the lustrous glow of a priceless pearl. The scales adorning their tail shimmered in the moonlight, each scale glinting like a precious stone.
Jake kneeled down, tilting his head to the side as he stared deep into the eyes of something he'd never seen before. It blinked once, and then...
You blinked again, staring into the deep amber eyes of Captain Jacob Kiszka.
Chapter 2:
Captain Jake Kiszka, the most feared pirate on the seas.
When the luxury passenger ship you were on wrecked and pirates came to scavenge it, you thought you would be left for dead, or worse.
Instead, Captain Jake Kiszka himself took you aboard his ship, rescuing you from what would've been a watery grave.
"Well, Darling, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't rescue a pretty thing like you?"
Whatever you do, don't think about the fact that their love language is physical touch.
