Cursed Ring II

Sorry, I know it's only half a page, and I did write the start of a new one. However I will be going on vacation starting tomorrow for a month in a place where I won't have regular internet. I will post as often as I can, and I will still write a page a day, but I don't want to start a new story on here right before leaving.

It was on such a day, when the Captain had remained on deck far after dark, that the sky began to roll with thunder. The Great Lakes were showing their infamous fast moving storms, as dangerous as any to be found on the ocean. The crew was running around the deck trying to fasten everything down and get the sail up, but their Captain was transfixed. Standing beside him, against the wind and lightening, stood William Scot. Again the man was laughing.

Captain Johnson and his crew were never seen again, nor was the ship. A trapper six month later found an oar from a ship’s boat on the shore of Lake Huron. One on side it had the ships name carved into it like normal. On the other side however was a name. William Scot. It was etched out in blood, though the trapper or anyone he showed it to could explain how it was the blood hadn’t been washed away by the water. There had been no tarp to protect it and it had been exposed to the elements through the summer storms, not to mention being washed to shore to begin with.

Then there was the matter of the ring, which had been chained to the oar, for what reason no one could tell. No matter how they tried to pull it off of the oar, or saw at the chain it wouldn’t come off. There was something unnatural about it, and soon people grew frightened. It was finally buried in the church yard, in the grave that had been dug for the lost bodies of Captain Johnson. It was never considered if it was a welcome gesture, but sometimes people said they heard a horrible laugh coming from the church yard.