Spanish or Vanish
Staring at the sword inches from my face, I desperately tried not to smile. One of the drawbacks of working in customer service; always smiling at the wrong moment. I could feel the corners of my mouth twitch, a death sentence in of itself. The joke that I would smile even in the face of Death, didn’t seem as funny anymore. I guess that’s what happens when jokes turn into reality.
The sword moved, breaking me from my thoughts, the tip placed under my chin. Its coldness sent shivers down my spine. A stark reminder that this was no joke.
“Tell me, Señorita,” he said, spitting out the title as if I was a mockery of all it represents. “What is so amusing?”
My stomach rolled, sending me a taste of that burning acid along my throat. Swallowing quickly I tried to think of something - anything - to say. But no words came. I could only stare at his cracked face, so familiar yet foreign, and smile. It was not a pretty smile either, more like a cornered animal, it showed way too many teeth.
“Capitán.” One of the men, no not men, but ghosts stepped forward. His eye patch distinguished him from the rest. He said something quickly in Spanish, tone imploring for something, which I did not know.
I guess Duolingo was correct, it is ‘Spanish or Vanish’. The thought made me snort. Quickly I tried to stifle the sound, but judging by the startled faces around me, I am so dead.
My heart skipped a beat. Mocking me.
We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. The sound of the waves hitting the side of the ship should have been calming, but it only made the silence seem louder. I took a deep breath trying to relax, the smell of seawater heavy on my tongue. Trying as I might I couldn’t escape the feeling of my pulse pounding in my head. I wanted to shake my head so badly, but the coldness of the blade reminded me not to give in to temptation. As the silence became heavier so did the pressure in my chest. ‘Do NOT puke.’ I repeated in my head. ‘DO NOT.’
Finally he lifted the sword away from my chin. I wanted to fall backwards into a heap of limbs, but knew better than to move in case he’d change his mind.
“You are in luck, Señorita.” he said, staring at the sword like it held all the answers of the universe. “I will spare your life, and in return you will break the Curse.”
I blinked. My eyes flickering to the crumbling side of his face.
“Curse?” I mumbled, trying to remember all the curses that I’ve heard of.
“Aha! So the little Señorita does speak!” he exclaimed, in moments inches from my face, forcing me to tilt my head back to look up at him.
In return he tilted his head to the side, black tar dripping from his chin. He looked like a deranged puppy. However, I couldn't help but feel slightly disgruntled. Who the hell is he calling little? Sure, I’m on my knees but there’s no need to call me short.
My attempt to stand up was quickly spoiled as he simply placed his hand on the top of my head, gently pressing me back down. Then to my mortification, he started petting my head like I was the puppy.
“There, there buena niña.” The amusement, clear, in his tone.
I jerked, enraged. Gritting my teeth, I stamped down the sudden urge to bite that blasted hand. ‘One more pet’ I thought darkly, ‘and it’s a goner.’
As if aware of my thoughts, he ruffled my hair for good measure. Ignoring my squawks of protest he grabbed me by my hair and brought my face closer to his. His eyes were intense. For a second I swore I saw a flame flicker in them.
“Do you understand me, niña?” he asked, the threat in his voice clear.
There was a long, pregnant pause. The utter confusion on his face would have been adorable, if he weren’t such an ass. Sure enough, he stiffened coming to whatever conclusions his deluded mind reached.
“¿Qué?” he asked, his mouth tightening in irritation as did his grip on my hair. I let out a hiss of pain. “You wish to anger me again?”
I straightened my shoulders in spite, my own annoyance flared at his biting tone. I’ve had enough, meeting his gaze straight on I attempted to tell him just that. But I had to glance away, my brief rebellion extinguished at the cold anger emitting from his eyes. It reminded me that ice can burn just as hot as fire, given the chance.
“It means understood.” I explained, exhausted. “It’s an expression.”
I sighed, wanting nothing more than to return home to my wonderful bed.
“I didn’t mean to offend.” I added, covering all my bases.
In the corner of my eye, I noticed something glimmer. Looking over I quickly realized what it was. Blood. My blood. There’s blood on the blade. As if on cue, the wound on my throat burned.
I swallowed. ‘So that’s what he’d been staring at.’ I thought, ‘Oh boy, are we in trouble.’
