OverMaster
Well worn.
- Joined
- Jun 1, 2018
- Messages
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OverMaster Writes for Every Franchise in Existence.
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Moby Dick.
One gray Autumn midday, the crew found Moby Dick's large white dead body, placidly resting on a beach.
The cormorans and seagulls were pecking on it, ripping large chunks avidly. Bristling in anger, Captain Ahab pulled his guns out and killed as many of them as he could.
His crewmen were actually afraid he'd start killing them afterwards, as well. But on another level, they were relieved. Captain Ahab's pursuit had ended before it could drag them all to a tragic fate; without a demon to chase, what was he anymore, but another sea captain?
Captain Ahab finished the current trip without a complain, although he clearly was unhappy. But after returning to shore, with all of his men alive and well paid, he called his quits and retired to the mainland, as far from the sea as a man could get.
He bought himself a small cabin in the mountains with his meager savings, and there he brooded.
Moby Dick, after all, was nothing but another dumb animal. Less than an animal, now, just bones picked from a rotting carcass. Ahab felt like an idiot. He had wasted his life.
Now, he had been left with nothing. Not even his hatred. Not even his rage.
Moby Dick was dead. And it never could return.
Not even in dreams, of revenge or otherwise, because Captain Ahab couldn't dream anymore.
---
Moby Dick.
One gray Autumn midday, the crew found Moby Dick's large white dead body, placidly resting on a beach.
The cormorans and seagulls were pecking on it, ripping large chunks avidly. Bristling in anger, Captain Ahab pulled his guns out and killed as many of them as he could.
His crewmen were actually afraid he'd start killing them afterwards, as well. But on another level, they were relieved. Captain Ahab's pursuit had ended before it could drag them all to a tragic fate; without a demon to chase, what was he anymore, but another sea captain?
Captain Ahab finished the current trip without a complain, although he clearly was unhappy. But after returning to shore, with all of his men alive and well paid, he called his quits and retired to the mainland, as far from the sea as a man could get.
He bought himself a small cabin in the mountains with his meager savings, and there he brooded.
Moby Dick, after all, was nothing but another dumb animal. Less than an animal, now, just bones picked from a rotting carcass. Ahab felt like an idiot. He had wasted his life.
Now, he had been left with nothing. Not even his hatred. Not even his rage.
Moby Dick was dead. And it never could return.
Not even in dreams, of revenge or otherwise, because Captain Ahab couldn't dream anymore.