I was the first to see them, obviously.
We were walking toward Culebro—if that place even exists, which I highly doubt. Buns was walking ahead with his clean spear, which he doesn’t want to get dirty; Jolius was checking out his reflection in every puddle as if it were a mirror; Ember was bringing up the rear, rubbing her right fang with her tongue because she was already sick of the other two; and I was at the very back… as always… taking it all in.
I saw the movement behind the oak tree before Buns raised his spear. A shadow—not that of an animal. It was too big to be a rat and too disgusting to be a human.
“Stop!”-I said.
As always, they ignored me, so they kept talking about the Great Plains and some nonsense about unicorn monkeys. Buns saw it too and raised his spear. Jolius pulled out his piece of metal to reflect the sun, as if that would do any good—how pathetic, really.
And out came… out of the bushes came the most ridiculous guy I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
An old, tattered pirate hat, stinking of the sea—I mean, rotten fish—even though we’re in the middle of the forest—and instead of legs… he had a tail. A damn huge fish tail, with black scales, slithering through the moss and leaving a trail of slime. It’s the Ratbound Corsair.
Jolius looked at him and made that face of disgust he couldn’t possibly hide.
- “‘A fish-man? Here, in the Forest?’”-he whispered.-“‘That doesn’t even make sense. Didn’t anyone teach him how to dress, or what?’”
I didn’t say anything; I was just staring at him. Without my glasses, I could see him perfectly: every scale, every crack in his hat, every drop of salt water running down his tail.
And then I smelled him and saw the worst part: rats.
Rats began to crawl out of his pockets, his sleeves, and his hat. Black, small, with glowing red eyes. There were dozens of them, and they scattered across the rocks and stared at us as if we were their food.
“Eww!”-said Ember.
“Get… get… GET AWAY FROM MY HAIR!”-shouted Jolius, jumping onto a rock.
The Corsair drove his trident into the ground and laughed. A laugh that sounded like a seagull drowning on the shore of a beach.
— “Well, well…” he said in that hoarse, drunken voice. “So you’re the ones who won’t stop yelling about Culebro. I heard you from a kilometer away. Do you think there aren’t any ears in the woods?”
I stayed silent while I sized him up.
— “Who are you?” —Buns asked, pointing his spear at him.
— “I’m the Ratbound Corsair,” —he said, as if that explained anything.— “And these are my girls,” —he pointed to the rats, yes.— “We’re looking for the same thing as you.”
— “Rats?” —I finally said; it was my first word. Everyone looked at me because I almost never speak first.— “Your crew are sewer rats? No wonder you reek of failure and rotten fish.”
The Corsair looked at me and smiled even wider.
—“Wow, the guy in the back sure does talk. And without glasses—I like that. You can see just fine, can’t you? Bitter little boy.”
It bothered me that he called me a kid, but it bothered me even more that he was right.
—“I don’t need glasses to see that you’re a lost idiot,” I replied.— “The sea is over there, in case you didn’t know,”-I pointed to the other side.— “I think you’re in the wrong biome.”
He didn’t get angry: he just pulled out his gun. He didn’t aim it at Buns, or Jolius, or Ember; he aimed it at me. He dragged himself along with his tail until he was two steps from my face. I could smell him—fish and wet gunpowder—it was an unbearable stench.
—“I like you, kid,” he said in a low voice, just for me.—“You have the eyes of someone who’s already seen that this world is shit, just like me. Do you know why I have rats and not humans? Because rats don’t abandon you when things get ugly.”
I stared at him, without blinking, without my glasses. I was just taking in every wrinkle on his face, every scar he had.
— “Don’t be fooled—rats also abandon ship when it’s sinking,” I told him.— “In fact, they’re the first to do it.”
He was silent for a second… then burst out laughing.
— “HA! I love this guy!” -he shouted to the others.— “He’s coming with me!”
Jolius was still perched on the rock.
— “Don’t let him come with us! He’s got rats! RATS IN HIS HAIR!”
— “Shut up, Jolius,” Ember and I said at the same time.
Buns lowered his spear a little.
— “If you know where Culebro is, then tell us,” Buns said.
The Corsair was still looking at me, not at Buns. As if I were the one speaking.
— “He’s just waking up,” he said. “He’s in the Great Plains, and the tunnel you’re looking for is right behind that oak tree. But you won’t get there with clean shoes and unused spears—because you’re going to have to get dirty.”
He pointed to the oak tree. Behind it, the moss was moving. There was a blue glow below—they were crystals.
I was the first to see them, obviously: there were 12 crystals pulsing.
I looked at my group: Buns was afraid of getting his spear dirty, Jolius was afraid of getting his hair dirty, and Ember was fed up with everyone. And there I was, without my glasses, seeing everything with such clarity that my eyes hurt.
— “Tch!” —I said to myself.— “What a bunch of good-for-nothings.”
I started walking toward the oak tree, toward the blue glow, toward the Corsair and his rats.
— “Where are you going?!” —Jolius shouted at me.
—“To get myself dirty,” -I replied without turning around.— “Someone’s got to do it, right? And since you guys are a bunch of good-for-nothings, I’ll go myself.”
I heard their footsteps behind me; they started following me. All of them, including the fish and his rats.
I let them follow me since I’ve never needed glasses to see that, even though I hate them and all, if they didn’t follow me, I’d end up truly alone.
Tch! They’re all so annoying.
Fui el primero en verlos, obviamente.
Estábamos caminando hacia Culebro, si es que esa cosa existe, que lo dudo mucho. Buns iba adelante con su lanza limpia que no quiere ensuciar, Jolius iba mirando su reflejo en cada charco como si fuera un espejo, Ember iba atrás frotándose el colmillo derecho con su lengua porque ya estaba harta de los dos y yo estaba al final... como siempre... viéndolo todo.
Ví el movimiento que hubo detrás del roble antes de que Buns levantara su lanza. Una sombra, no de un animal. Era demasiado grande para ser una rata y demasiado asquerosa para ser un ser humano.
— "¡Paren!" —dije.
Como siempre, no me hicieron caso, así que siguieron hablando de las Grandes Llanuras y de no sé qué tontería de monos unicornio. Entonces Buns lo vió también y levantó su lanza. Jolius sacó su pedazo de metal para reflejar el sol, como si eso fuera a servir de algo, qué patético, de verdad.
Y salió... de los arbustos salió el tipo más ridículo que he visto en toda mi mi vida.
Sombrero de pirata viejo, todo roto, apestando a mar, o sea, a pescado podrido -aunque estamos en medio del bosque- y en lugar de piernas... tenía una cola. Una maldita cola de pez enorme, con escamas negras, arrastrándose por el musgo y dejando baba. Es el Ratbound Corsair.
Jolius lo miró y puso su cara de asco que le era imposible de disimular.
— "¿Un hombre-pez? ¿Aquí, en el Bosque?" —susurró.— "Eso ni siquiera tiene sentido. ¿Nadie le enseñó a vestirse o qué?".
Yo no dije nada, solo lo estaba mirando fijamente. Sin lentes, lo veía perfecto: veía cada escama, cada grieta de su sombrero, cada gota de agua salada recorriendo toda su cola.
Y entonces lo olí y ví lo peor: Ratas.
De sus bolsillos, de sus mangas, de su sombrero, empezaron a salir ratas. Negras, pequeñas, con ojos rojos que brillaban. Eran docenas y se esparcieron por las rocas y nos miraron como si fuéramos su comida.
— ”¡Qué asco!” —dijo Ember.
— ”Qué... qué... ¡QUE SE ALEJEN DE MI CABELLO!” —gritó Jolius, saltando sobre una piedra.
El Corsario clavó su tridente en la tierra y se rió. Una risa que sonaba a gaviota ahogándose en las orillas de una playa.
— ”Vaya, vaya...” —dijo con esa voz de borracho con carraspera.— "Así que ustedes son los que no paran de gritar sobre Culebro. Los escuché a un kilómetro de distancia. ¿Creen que en el bosque no hay oídos?".
Yo seguí callado mientras lo analizaba.
— "¿Quién eres?" —preguntó Buns, apuntándole con la lanza.
— "Soy el Ratbound Corsair"— dijo, como si eso explicara algo.— "Y estas son mis chicas" —señaló a las ratas, si.— "Buscamos lo mismo que ustedes".
— "¿Ratas?"— dije por fin, fue mi primera palabra. Todos me miraron porque casi nunca hablo primero.— "¿Tu tripulación son ratas de alcantarilla? Con razón apestas a fracaso y pescado podrido".
El Corsario me miró y sonrió aún más.
— "Vaya, el de atrás sí que habla. Y sin lentes, me gusta. Ves bien, ¿no? Niño amargado".
Me molestó que me dijera niño, pero me molestó más que tuviera razón.
— "No necesito lentes para ver que eres un idiota que se perdió" —le contesté.— "El mar está para allá, por si no lo sabías" —señalé al otro lado.— "Creo que te equivocaste de bioma".
Él no se enojó: solo sacó su pistola. No le apuntó ni a Buns, ni a Jolius, ni a Ember; me apuntó fue a mí. Se arrastró con su cola hasta quedar a dos pasos de mi cara. Podía olerlo, a pescado y a pólvora mojada, era un aroma insoportable.
— "Me caes bien, niño" —me dijo en voz baja, solo para mí.— "Tienes los ojos de alguien que ya vio que este mundo es una mierda, igual que yo. ¿Sabes por qué tengo ratas y no humanos? Porque las ratas no te abandonan cuando las cosas se ponen feas".
Lo miré fijo, sin parpadear, sin lentes. Solo me fijaba en cada arruga de su cara, cada cicatriz que tenía.
— "No te creas, las ratas también abandonan el barco cuando se hunde" —le dije.— "Es más, son los primeros en hacerlo".
Se quedó callado un segundo... luego soltó una carcajada enorme.
— "¡JA! ¡Me encanta este tipo!" —le gritó a los demás.— "¡Este se viene conmigo!".
Jolius seguía encima de la piedra.
— "¡Que no se venga con nosotros! ¡Tiene ratas! ¡RATAS EN EL CABELLO!".
— "Cállate, Jolius" — dijimos Ember y yo al mismo tiempo.
Buns bajó la lanza un poco.
— "Si sabes dónde está Culebro, entonces dínoslo" —dijo Buns.
El Corsario me seguía mirando a mí, no a Buns. Como si yo fuera el que estuviera hablando.
— "Recién se está despertando" —dijo.— "Está en las Grandes Llanuras y el túnel que buscan está justo detrás de ese roble. Pero no van a llegar con zapatos limpios y lanzas sin usar porque van a tener que ensuciarse".
Nos señaló el roble. Detrás, el musgo se movía. Había un brillo azul abajo, eran cristales.
Fui el primero en verlos, obviamente: eran 12 cristales que estaban palpitando.
Miré a mi grupo: Buns tenía miedo a ensuciar su lanza, Jolius tenía miedo a ensuciar su cabello y Ember estaba harta de todos. Y yo, sin lentes, viendo todo con una claridad que me dolían los ojos.
— ”!Tch!” —dije para mí.— "Qué grupo de inútiles".
Empecé a caminar hacia el roble, hacia el brillo azul, hacia el Corsario y sus ratas.
— "¡¿A dónde vas?!” —me gritó Jolius.
— ”A ensuciarme”. —le respondí sin voltear.— ”Alguien tiene que hacerlo, ¿no? Y como ustedes son unos inútiles, entonces voy yo mismo".
Escuché sus pasos detrás de mí, me empezaron a seguir. Todos, incluido el pez con sus ratas.
Dejé que me siguieran ya que nunca he necesitado de lentes para ver que, aunque los odie y todo, si no me siguieran entonces terminaría realmente solo.
¡Tch!, qué molestos son todos.
This was my entry for @takeru255's Writing Contest. I'm not very good at telling stories, so I hope you like it. Many thanks to Takeru for making this possible.
Este ha sido mi participación para el Concurso De Literatura de @takeru255. No soy muy bueno contando historias, así que espero que les guste. Muchas gracias a Takeru por hacer esto posible.
| CREDITS | SOURCES |
|---|---|
| Cover, Banners and Separators: | Canva. |
| Traslated by: | DeepL Translate. |
| Character Created by: | Bing Image Generator. |
| Markdown Tool: | Hive Studio. |
| Profile Picture: | Description: |
|---|---|
| My name is Nattosheru. On Hive, you can find me as @nattosenpai, but you can call me Natto. I'm a young Venezuelan who likes to talk about anime, movies, and music on my Hive Blog. I'm 28 years old and I'm working toward my dream of "living doing what I love" online. My profile picture was created by Gemini AI based on the main character from the movie Blade Runner 2049, but with my real face. |



