Destined for Flames (One Piece Fanfic)

Memories Of Calm Seas

A/N Time!: Anyway.... Well, here we are. Chapter 40! Wait, what? How'd I even get this far...? Makes no sense to me whatsoever how I ended up writing forty chapters of Destined for Flames, which originally had a less awesome name.... But speaking of chapters....I gotta ask. Do you all want me to keep writing one book until the time skip? Or maybe break it up after Enies Lobby? Cause I was thinking, if I do that, all that's left really is Thriller Bark and then Sabaody, and that's not exactly a whole lot to make a second book. Of course, I could stop now with this chapter, or maybe one more, and then start a second book. But that would be weird to me. Course, that's why I'm asking you lovely readers. So put your two cents in, if you feel like it! Please?

Now.... on with the story!!

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I'm startled from my sleep by a piercing scream, making me jolt upright in my tiny bed, fit for my size perfectly. I clutch my lavender bedspread to my chest, whimpering slightly as another howl rips through the air. It sounds like it's just outside....

"Mommy, Daddy," I whimper, forcing myself to crawl from my bed and to the cold floor. My bare feet make no sound, though the chilling conditions send shivers up my spine as I pas silently to the door. It makes a slight creaking noise when I draw it open, but not enough to catch someone's attention. "Mommy?" I call, poking my head out from the doorway. "Daddy?"

I can hear people running outside, yelling and, strangely, laughing. If they were just screaming so shrilly, why would they be laughing now? I shake my head, fisted hands catching onto the hem of my over-long T-shirt. It's Daddy's, and it reaches to my knees. He let me wear it because I don't like nightgowns.

I pull my door open fully and step into the hallway, rushing down the corridor as fast as my eight-year-old legs will carry me. Just as I reach my parents' room, a searing light explodes from the window in the living room, which is at the end of the hall. I blink, dark shadows dancing in front of my eyes. That looks like.... fire. Fire?!

"Mommy! Daddy!" I jerk open their door, peering inside, hoping to see they're reassuring faces seated in their bed. I want them to tell me everything is fine, to just go back to bed. But even I realize they're not there, I know I could never fall asleep again, with all this noise and worry crowding my mind.

I take another look around the room, to make sure I haven't missed them, then duck out and hurry to the living room. The front door bursts open just as I enter, and on instinct, I dive behind the bookcase filled with Mommy's favorite stories, and Daddy's pirate books. My parents are shoved into the house, by a very ugly man who very much towers over them. He has to stopp to make it through our six-foot-high doorway.

I wrinkle my nose at the sight of him, even though it isn't the time to feel disgust over someone's appearance. He's massive, with a broad, hairy chest that's exposed due to the fact that he wears his red, button-up shirt open. He pairs this with light-green long pants with a strange, lined pattern on them, as well as a puke-yellow sash around his hips, with several guns tucked into it and what I think is a bottle of alcohol. His skin is tanned from prolonged exposure to the sun, and his hair is pitch black and curled; he also has a scruffy black beard. When he grins nastilly, I see that he has broken teeth dotting his mouth.

"Well, lookey here," he says in a rouch voice that makes me shudder like I've just been bathed in ice water. "You two were runnin' back here some somethin'. Is it valuable? Treasure, is that what you got? Cause I'll just be takin' that! Zehahahaha!" His laugh is so weird.

Something brushes my arm when I shift, trying to get a better look at the man obviously threatening my parents. I look back, eyes already pricked with worried tears, and spot a rather beat-looking black leather case, tucked against the wall. Daddy's sword. He put it here because he didn't want people to steal it. Mommy thought it was a bad hiding spot. "Who wouldn't look behind a bookcase?" she'd asked. But she was laughing and smiling when she said it. She isn't like that now.