ABBY

Standing in the shadows on the far corner of the huge square, watching the flames lick at the skies while firemen try their best to get the blaze under control. A wicked side smirk starts to form as the tapping of small feet gets his attention. His bright blue eyes follows the small girl as she runs toward the blazing building. A low growl escapes his lips. Mission failed... Her breathing comes in short, rapid pants as she runs down the cobblestone  street in the direction of the billowing black smoke. Her short legs aching and her lungs burning as she rounds the corner. Glass explodes and rains down on the firemen who are fighting the raging flames. “Mama! Mama! Where are you?” She calls as she's desperately searching the gathering crowd for the familiar face and golden hair of her mother.  Someone suddenly catches her by the arm and pulls her towards them. Her eyes wide as she tries to escape from the firm grip. Turning around, she focuses on the person’s face. The scream caught in her throat. Patrick “One Patch” Hudson pulls the small five-year-old girl into a tight embrace. His hazel eyes filled with sorrow.  “Abby, your mama’s gone, Love. She’s not coming back, Sweetheart.” He says as his voice breaks, looking desperately in the direction of the burning building, praying for a miracle. “No! Where is she?  She’ll be back.  You’ll see, Patches. Mama will be back.” The small child cries, her cheeks stained with tears and  black soot. Her dress smeared and her tiny feet bare. She doesn't understand why Patches says that her mother is not coming back. The large man enfolds her small body with his arms, holding her closer trying to comfort her. Abby's cries get engulfed by the raging fire as it crackles and hisses in a burning fury, eating away at the once prominent gathering place for seamen, The Pirate's Oasis. One explosion after the other follows as the barrels of rum gets heated by the flames. Aggravating the rage of the fire as it chews through the timbers. Patrick is, more was, the right-hand man of Mrs. Samantha Davidson, who was the owner of the Pirate’s Oasis Pub.  The same pub that is a burning inferno in front of them now.  Patrick watches helplessly as the flames engulf the building, black smoke rising in waves from the shattered windows as the firemen try helplessly to get it under control.  How did this happen?  The one moment they were serving customers, the next, all hell broke loose.  Luckily, Little Abby was not there to experience the horror. Or worse, get caught in the crossfire.  Sam Davidson fought bravely against the thugs, but they were overwhelmed and  the dogs set the place on fire. Patrick was not able to get her out. The flames took over before he could get to her. Abby’s small arms are tight around his neck, almost choking him.  Her face buried in the crook of his neck,  painful sobs ripping through her small body.  She’s exhausted. He still has to inform the Captain of what happened.  He is dreading that part, though.  Captain Davidson is sailing the High Seas on a very important conquest for Lord Bolton.  A Pirate King in his own right, Sean Davidson is feared by all and respected as far as he goes.  He is an honorable, but noble man.  Some call him the Robin Hood of the sea.  Taking from the rich and giving to the poor, he stands equal to kings like Davy Jones and Black Beard. A gentleman,  but he can turn fierce and savage in the blink of an eye, especially when it comes to his wife and daughter. Glancing back for the last time at the gutted building, Patrick turns and walks in the direction of his cottage. Leaving the raging fire chaos behind.  Abby’s grip is loosening around his thick neck, indicating she’s falling asleep. Tomorrow will be a dreadful day. Not only must he send news to Captain Davidson, but he also has to search the rubble for the body of Lady Davidson. An honorable funeral will be held for her and all must be in place when the Pirate King sets foot in the harbor. One thing is certain.  The culprits will be hunted down. The Captain will make sure of that. And so will he.  As Patrick walks through the door of his small cottage, his wife greets to him. Concern written on her face as she looks at the small body he’s cradling. “Something happened at work.” He grumbles in a gruff voice, holding Abby tighter against him.  Her small body is stirring sleepily.  “I know.  I’m just glad you’re unharmed and that she’s safe.”  Glenda states as she reaches to take the small child from him. Patrick is almost reluctant to give her up. Abby is as much a part of their household as she is at her own. Almost as if she is his own daughter. They don't have children of their own and Abby fills the gap of longing. They've known her since birth. “Get yourself cleaned up. I’ll take care of the little one.”  Glenda says as she turns with the sleeping child in her arms and head in the direction of the guestroom. Hearing his footfalls fade towards the bathroom, Glenda Hudson sighs.  Laying Abby down on the bed, she looks at the small face. Tear stains cover her cheeks. Her frilly pink dress soot-stained and her hands and knees, scraped raw.  How will she be able to cope? Will she understand what happened here tonight? How will Captain Davidson handle this situation?  He loved Sam with his whole being. Little Abby is proof of that. She’s such a happy and sweet child.  Glenda’s heart breaks.  What will happen to her?  The Captain is a busy man and he can’t look after her.  They’ll figure something out in the morning.  Patrick is exhausted.  His broad shoulders are tense and his face strained.  A good sleep will help them to think clear in the morning. Then they can weigh their options and get a clear view on how to take this on. Meanwhile, down at the harbor, it's all hands on deck.  A huge black Barque silently makes its way to the dockside. The Black Swallow has returned, her captain standing tall on the stern deck, casting a watchful eye over the activities on the lower deck. Black smoke catches his eye.  Though it’s almost dark, the column stains the clear night sky as a frown forms on his forehead.  That is in the direction of Pirate’s Oasis. Did something happen? Concern tightens his chest. Captain Davidson scans the dock for any signs of a familiar face.  A tall figure catches his attention. Standing in the light of a streetlamp is Lord Bolton. The Vampire King has a deep frown on his forehead and concern is written on his face. What is he doing out at this time of night?  Something serious must’ve happened. The ship is tied down and the Captain makes his way over the bridge towards the Vampire King. “What brings you to a place like this, Lance? A filthy harbor is no place for a nobleman such as yourself.” Captain Davidson says with a smile as he extends a hand to Lord Bolton. “Says the man who basically scrubs his ship with a toothbrush.” Lord Bolton answers with a strained smile as he shakes the extended hand.  His face turns serious once more as he looks the Captain in the eye. “Sean, jokes aside.  It’s good to have you back, but I am the bearer of bad news.” The Captain’s face falls as he waits for Lord Bolton to continue. “It’s Sam.  There was a raid at the pub, and they were outnumbered.  Patrick got out, but Sam…Sean, I’m sorry.  She’s…” The Captain’s face is sombre, his jaw clenched tight as he struggles to keep control of his emotions. “Who…?” Captain Davidson asks in a ragged, shaking voice. His shoulders tense up. “We’re still searching.” The Vampire King says as his eyes scan the dockside. “Where is Abby?  Is she safe?” The Captain asks. His voice a low growl, his steel grey eyes flashing with anger. “She’s with Patrick and Glenda.  She wasn’t there when it happened.  She only arrived afterwards.” Lord Bolton says and Captain Davidson simply nods. “I’ll go over to Pat’s house in the morning and get her.” Captain Davidson says, gripping the railing with white knuckles. Lord Bolton places a strong hand on his shoulder.  “If there is anything, please don’t hesitate.  I’ll take my leave now.  We’ll see tomorrow.” And with that he silently slips into the darkness, leaving Captain Davidson brooding in his loss and rising anger.  He will hunt these bastards down for the sea-dogs they are. They will pay with their lives. He will make sure of that. The following morning, as all is quiet at the Hudson house,  a knock is heard at the door and Glenda walks over to open.  Her face drains as opens the door and is met by the tall, broad chested figure standing in the door.WThe