Chapter 11

Chapter 11 “Alice”

Duncan sweat he would never forget this picture for the rest of his life—a gorgeous coffin undulating in the eerie and dangerous sea, and a mysterious goth doll padding the sides and riding the waves like some sort of surfer....

And, most importantly, the doll doesn’t seem to be very happy!

This was so creepy no matter the angle. Should Duncan be surprised that the doll was moving? Or should he be wowed by her arrogance to use a coffin as a rowing boat or surfboard? Regardless, the tenacity and determination of the doll to return aboard was something to behold. He had to give her credit for that.

Then before Duncan had realized it, the doll had managed to come aboard, and this time he got the full show on how she managed it. By clinging onto some protruding wood from the stern, the doll was able to heave herself up with the coffin magically floating up beside herself. Ignoring the weight alone, the dexterity required for such a feat would put any acrobat to the test.

Not letting this chance slide, he promptly hurried back to the deck.

Apparently, the puppet doll didn’t realize she had been caught red-handed and was continuing to get things in order. With a wave of a finger, the coffin slowly floated down beside her feet. That done, she began to sort out her now dripping dress and crawled inside the box with her feet first.

But halfway through the climb, she stopped after hearing a audible click of a gun being unlocked, followed closely by a pirate sword that came up to her chin.

The doll’s movements instantly froze. She tried to rigidly turn her head, only to be confronted by a burning green-flamed ghost captain staring down at herself coldly.

“Humph, I caught you now, dolly~”

The doll visibly trembled in front of Duncan’s eyes and wanted to shrink away to avoid his gaze. However, what came of the nervous wreck were nothing more than clinks and clacks of joints too scared to move.

Then her head fell off...

In front of Duncan, a beautiful head rolled next to his feet with sprawling silvery hair that mangled itself around the face. Funnily enough, the doll’s body continued to move by grasping blankly into the air while pleading: “Help... Help... Help...”

Duncan glanced at her sideways: “When necessary, I can be.”

The doll didn’t speak, only clasping her head in support like the awe in her eyes would pop the thing off again.

Duncan didn’t know why the cursed doll would make such a face for one, but he’s not going to bash that misconception. Anything to help his image as the infamous ghost pirate that ruled the Boundless Sea.

Turning away without looking back, he began to head for the captain’s quarter while letting his connection with the Vanished tell him what was happening. The gothic doll was initially hesitant to follow, but that didn’t last long once the “coffin” floated up from the floorboard and moved with her.

Under the gloomy gaze of the wooden goat head, the ghost captain and the cursed doll sat across from one another at the mapping table – the former relaxing in his reclining chair while the puppet fidgeted uncomfortably with the coffin floating behind her.

There’s no question the gothic doll was a true beauty from the surface level, but whenever Duncan looked at that figure, all he could see now was the incredible picture of a surfer riding the waves with a coffin....

Sighing at his own silliness, he resumes his cold and imposing façade: “Name?”

“Alice.”

“Race?”

“Puppet Doll.”

“Occupation?”

“Doll... Why ask me this?”

Duncan thought for a moment: “For some basic understanding.”