|
By Galadrial Date: 2001 Oct 19 Comment on this Work [[2001.10.19.19.39.30388]] |
|
Down, going south you find Montego Bay, on an Island called Jamaica which is haunted, so they say, and when walking in the night time, if you've had a bit a rum, don't be looking in the dark parts, in case you need to run. Now the tourists like it fine in this lovely spot they know, took the house of a pirate queen, and opened it for show--- She called herself Anne Bonnie, and yes she sailed the sea, cheated the gallows once or twice then retired rich and free. Now Rose Hall was the house she built, with all her stolen loot, she made it lavish lovely, not bothered by the guilt. And there she lived a life of ease, a long life you might say--- Calico Jack her lover had long been flung away. They stretched his neck and she'd have danced that same black jig beside him, but Anne decided she would live, and never could abide him. They never named the men she killed, or the lives that bought her life, Anne Bonnie when retired never touched a knife. But that did not calm the spirits who waited by her bed, or silence much the howling cries that came to fill her head. And 80 was an ancient age, when she at last was done, to bid goodbye to her last night, she gladly gave up the sun. Only... she never lost the ghosts you see, they caper in her night and scream for every coin she made, to give her soul fresh fright. and there's no waking for the Pirate Queen, who roams the very halls she built with blood and bone and fear, she's trapped within the walls. Anne Bonnie made her prison, and she made it very fine, she never guessed the rooms would fill with demons for all time. So if you sleep at Rose Hall, when down Jamaica way, just remember to keep to your room, no matter what they say--- and if a raven tressed woman, her eyes aglow with fire, says she wants to be your friend, you'll know her for a liar. Just turn your back, and brace yourself for one high demon shriek--- then will be gone the Rose Hall h'ant, so long as you don't speak. She's searching for another to share her pretty tomb, and you don't need a lover who lives in such a room. |