Tossed onto a reef by a rogue wave, our pirate ship shudders, and a sickening crunch sounds our death knell. Salt burns my lungs when I gulp water, not air, then I’m back on board with my crew, peering through fog that reeks of sulphur.
“What’s that smell?”
“The Devil’s breath,” a crewmate says. “Collecting our plundering souls, he is.”
I clutch my ghostly chest. “He can take it. I never want to drown again.”
“Nay. Caught in a hell loop, I fear.” He points at the ocean. A wave swells, tossing the ship. “Brace yourself. We’re going down again.”
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alt="Famine Man by Deborah Tapper"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
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alt="The Abhartach's Thirst by Andrew Kurtz"
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