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Rebellion: The Beginning
By 1


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Chapter 6: Hate, Despair, and Loneliness

Angus reached the shore with a morning-sour sun shining vigorously at his back. He jumped into the shallow waters, and waded towards the shore while hauling the boat after him. The sun shone with great warmth, so he was glad to see the dim shadows that slowly crept longer into the jungle.
When he had finally managed to drag the boat ashore, he realized his folly. What if the others returned, and saw another rowboat lying next to theirs on the shore? Then his advantage of surprise would be useless. Angus therefore pushed the boat out into the water again, and started to row it out from the shore. When he had gotten as far as he wanted, he jammed his cutlass into the one of the planks and forced the nails out from their homes, making the boat sink. Then Angus jumped over the rail, and swam back to the shore.

When Angus finally arrived soaking wet at the beach, he sat down and happily watched the rowboat sink slowly away from sight, while sailing slowly away. Angus smiled scornfully for himself when the waves finally licked the small boat down into its great depth. Angus' eyes then drifted over the sea in search for witnesses, but no other soul saw the drowning of the second rowboat. Only the Grog Villains Beauty was to be seen, gallantly dipped into the water, and slowly travelling with the wind in a small circle around its anchor-chain.

Angus spat into the golden sand in front of him. He now remembered his thoughtless glee when he first had seen this ship on the docks of Mêlée Island. Back then, he felt safe accompanied by its crew, and was looking forward to the grand fight that was to come. Now, looking back at it all, Angus could see how useless their efforts were. Marley would never gain any support from any colony, and he would never find any cheap pirate mercenaries. These were the 1660's, Angus reminded himself, the downfall of the New World. Nowadays every brave man hoped to sack a Spanish colony and get a hold of the Galleons travelling with the Treasure Fleet. The sea had filled with pirates and privateers, and they had become stronger and stronger. No colony was safe anymore, not even Panama or Havana.

Marley's quest was in vain. The only person who might have been able to fulfil it into a working plan was an outsider, thrown out of the ship with scornful grimaces and hateful curses. Angus got up from the sand, and turned towards the jungle. The sight of the horrid Sloop was too much for him now.
Angus walked towards a banana tree, which, strangely enough, had hanging bananas, when he noticed his salvation: footprints!

There, the fat barrel-shaped Dutchman had walked, wobbling towards the jungle. Next to these prints, there was a set of over proud prints that had to come from the "noble" Captain. Angus boiled with anger by the sight of the prints. They were like a scripture of evil painted into his mind. Then he noticed the tiny prints of his most hated crewmember, Lindy. This spoiled boy had destroyed Angus' life, and now this kid was going to steal his treasure! Angus was now sick of it all, all the insane bickering the little boy had produced when refusing to go under the deck in the storm, and his useless warning about the war galleon. Angus' patience had long been over, but now even his pity towards them had disappeared completely. He was now ready to kill them all! He took hold of his cutlass, and ran hastily into the forest, hoping to find the complete gang behind a nearby tree trunk. He did not find them behind the first trees but Angus did not really care. He knew that he could follow them forever if he had to, and once he found them he knew that his revenge would be so terrible that the villains would scream for mercy before he even cut the first stripes of blood into their skin.

Angus started to run, and while he did so, he started to think about the fight that was to come. The glorious fight that he would win. He would first shoot a good shot against Marley's head, ending the proud man's life for good in a bloody spray. The next victim would be Rum of course; his stupidity had too long embarrassed this world. His eyes would probably marvel with fear, before disappearing completely into a great red mass of blood. Then Rapp's gutter would fall freely unto the ground for his treason. Lastly, there was Lindy, the boy who had put Angus into this situation, the boy who had been responsible for it all. Angus smiled grimly as he thought about all the painful tortures that he would inflect the young boy.
Then, as Angus ran hastily through the jungle in the brink of the day, an especially nasty punishment came to his mind, and he laughed a horrid and scornful laugh.

Angus traveled now deeper and deeper into the jungle of the great island. The island itself consisted of two great patches of jungle, separated by a small mountain chain. It was quite large, four days' walk (if the roads had been straight, and the land had been flat) from south to north, and east to west. It was just like any other island in the Caribbean. The same look, the same sounds, and the same dry stench of rotting plants. It also had the same plants and wildlife. In fact, It was just like any other island in the Caribbean, only this one floated on a cloud kilometres over the other islands... The sun raised itself on the horizon, and with the morning awoke every animal that was going to die or kill that day. Angus slashed down a branch of a tree with his cutlass. A rather large, sleeping Hutia fell from the cut branch. The Hutia panicked, and wriggled wildly before he luckily enough managed to cling onto another branch just before slamming into the ground.

With unsteady steps, the Hutia climbed towards the trunk of the tree. Then out of nowhere, a great snake came from behind and twirled itself around it. Ever so slowly, the snake squished the air out of the poor creature and swallowed the prey whole. The snake then quite pleased over himself, crept down from the tree and headed for a cave so that he could properly digest the food.

The road was long and quite tiresome with the great Hutia tucked into its stomach, but finally, as the day reached its height, the snake was close to its domain. Only a few metres, over a small path and it was home.



The sun had reached its peak, and midday had come with its engulfing warmth, when Angus noticed a great snake with a bulking stomach crossing the road, and coming fast towards him. He quickly drew forth his cutlass and cleaved the head of the snake.

"This is only the first snake I would kill today!" he then said grimly, thinking, of course, about the treasonous crew of the Grog Villains Beauty.

He then took a short break. He was tired now. Tired of it all, and he really wanted his nightmare to end. The sun still shone freely down through thin trees, and little or no shadow could be seen anywhere. Angus cursed the sun. It had burned against his neck for the last half-hour.

He was inside an enormous clearing, and the sun had intensified its glow every second. It was now like a great fire, burning hatefully at Angus head. It was almost as if Angus could feel his brain starting to boil, and every root of hair sent hurtful dagger-like pins into his skull. Angus glanced scornfully towards the sun, and cursed it aloud. This was the worst warmth he had experienced in his life. His mind boiled, and he sat, musing over his situation.

Was the warmth an attack against Angus directly? Angus knew that the Voodoo Lady now seemed to have control over the weather, and what confidences had he that these lands were indeed voodoo free? It might be the Voodoo Lady who, now helped with spy-reports from Lindy, sent this great sun to force Angus to stop his hunt for the treasure. If that was true, the so-called rebels were indeed her most trusted servants. The deceitful Lindy had worked against them all the time! Soon Angus would be alone, in the nightmare that was sure to come to the lands.

Angus' thoughts then dwelled on the treasure. He felt that this treasure was a last piece in some great puzzle, and that he HAD to find it before the others. Therefore, he could not let any of his old crewmates live. He had to kill them all, and do it all alone armed only with a cutlass and two guns.
Angus mind went over the upcoming killings again, and he now saw that it was going to be a difficult task. If he only had thought straighter and brought two more guns, his chances could have been acceptable, now they where intolerable. He had two chances to kill from a distance, and then he had to cut up the other two right afterwards... It seemed natural and easy a few hours ago when he found the tracks, but now it just seemed like folly.

Maybe, Angus mused, maybe I should get in touch with Rapp? I am sure he was only trying to protect me on the ship, and even if he had turned wholly to their side, was a sure persuader for uncooperative people.

Angus had decided to get in touch with the cook, and talk him into, or force him into helping him. Then the preferable way to kill the others would have to be poisoning. The others did not know about Rap's secret, and thus would have few thoughts about a rather strange smelling meal at the cold evening.
Angus thought more and more over this newfound plan, and he was glad and thoughtful when he raised and continued his chase into the deep jungle.



The hours flew as Angus with his mind full of plans, tracked down his former crewmembers. The great mountains now started to rise over the jungle roof, and Angus noticed that the tops of the mountains had snow on them.

From the snowy peaks, great birds flew. They were vultures, looking for food for their young offspring. Maybe they had understood what Angus was about to do? Or maybe other things had attracted their interests? In any case, they flew in great circles now, a thirty or forty metres over Angus, and followed him on his travels. There were two birds, great birds with years and years of experience.

They looked distressed. They had always been able to find food before, but lately things had gone wrong. The period had been especially dry, and few animals had survived. Now the vultures were starved and rather thin. They flew in pairs, and lowered closer to the ground. They could sense that Angus was weak, and expected him to drop any moment. The scent of a dead bat met their beaks, but the vultures did not care. They were now close to a meal that would last for at least a week, and much more wasn't needed for the small offspring who waited alone at their nest. All his brothers and sisters had died by starvation, but little Bennie was still alive, though starved, and if he did not get food this day, he would surely die.
The father flew low and close to Angus. He had now panicked in his hunger, and therefore he attacked the Scotsman. Angus, however, only stroked his cutlass hard over the poor bird's neck, killing it instantly. This did not stop his travels through the woods though, and neither did his steps slow their pace. No, it was almost the opposite. His pace went faster and faster as the night drew on, and lastly, as the sun dipped itself into the cloudy waves, the mother returned sadly home to her nest.

Then, suddenly she felt the glorious stench of blood. She quickly darted down, and since she had seen the prey from afar, just grasped the beast lying on the ground blood full and headless. This was her saviour. With this meal her offspring could survive for a couple of days more. It was a rather grand meal, a bulking snake it was, and nearly 2 metres long. Even the loss of the father would not lessen the offspring changes of survival with this glorious feast of a meal. She, therefore, now flew into the sunset with the snake hanging down from her claws.



Darkness had swept over the island, and Angus was terribly tired. He found great relief by the sight of a faint glow coming from within the jungle.

As Angus crept closer, he could hear the voices of his enemies giving praise to someone or another, for managing to capture something edible. He now crept even closer to try to get a clear picture of the whole situation.

He had crept under a bush right outside the camp. A tiny fire dimly lit the camp, and only Rum was visible, sitting on a log and drinking a portion of rum. No one else seemed to be around, as Rum drank another mug of his heavenly sugar-drink. Then suddenly, Angus heard a clear whistling from the branches nearby. The whistling became louder and louder as its source came closer to Angus. Now the person, who surely was collecting dry branches for the campfire, was right beside Angus, and started rummaging the very bush that was Angus hiding underneath. Then Rum cried out in dismay over the slowly extinguishing fire. The whistling man quickly changed his merry tune into a stricken gasp, and ran quickly towards the fire.

Now, Angus could clearly recognize the whistling man, and he cursed himself for not allowing the man to see him. It was Rapp, carrying much wood for the fire. He tended the fire heartily, and loudly exclaimed his joy when the fire again burned lively and even grew in greatness.

Then, as the fire was eating greedily on the dry branches, Angus could see Captain Marley and Young Lindy coming, laughing, from a tent, carrying rapiers with cork-covered tips.

Angus wondered whether he should attack right away or not. His feelings, however, were betrayed by his common sense, and he watched closely as Lindy and Marley put on several unfamiliar garments; they fastened protection for their arms, legs and chests, all in heavy iron. Then they positioned themselves at the right distance.

Marley commanded Lindy to attack, and the young boy swiftly sent his cork-secured rapier straight-lined towards Marley's stomach. Marley found no difficulties in such an easy move though, so he instantly slashed Lindy's rapier away, aimed his own sword towards Lindy's heart, and sent it hard forward hoping for a short "kill". Lindy was not as defenseless as it might seem though, as he had changed his hold and direction of the blade even before Marley had slashed his earlier attack away. Therefore, Lindy's rapier had gone unnaturally fast in its retreat; it had swirled quickly around Lindy's backhand, and thus, Lindy now firmly forced Marley's "killing" blade away.

Marley smiled approvingly at this move. "I see you have practiced on the Fool's Fooler!" he said, as he once again manipulated the boy to do the move, but this time on the left hand. "Remember, three fingers only. If more, the rotation will be to slow, if less you would lose the blade if something hits it." They went over the move some more times, until Lindy was handling it securely while Marley stroked the blade in its rotation.

"Nice!" Marley replied happily at last. "You have improved greatly." He demanded another attack.

This time, Lindy quickly sent the tip of his rapier against the left side of Marley's chest. Marley was about to smash the sword away with a down-swinging curl of his own rapier, but did not find the time.
Angus could only hear a faint "pjong" from the two blades that stroked at each other's sides.
Lindy had quickly dragged and pulled his blade backwards and upwards in a diagonal arch towards Marley's blade arm. This way he, with a small margin, evaded the blade, and smashed the cork into Marleys front head.

"You fool!" Marley cried out in dismay. "Don't you ever do that again!"

"I'm sorry Captain," Lindy replied sadly. "But I don't know where you want me to aim at..." He had seconds before striking the blade into the forehead of his master, felt the bite of a cork smashing into his own stomach. His attack had therefore been doomed, and he would never have been able to even reach the opponents forehead if the blades were uncorked.

"If I told you every move, then you wouldn't learn; you would only copy. And then you would never be a true master of the blade." Marley answered, clearly saddened by the ignorance of the boy. "If I were an enemy and attempted this move on you, and you retreated before it was completed, you would learn nothing from the encounter if you did not think of the reason for my attack, and the attacks possibilities. A true master would already after a few seconds be able to foretell a coming move, and thus manage to defend himself against it. You must never think less of your opponent than you think of yourself. I will help you on this one too, but this is the final move I will give freely to you." Marley made Lindy have the same position that Marley had when Lindy had forced his blade upwards towards his head. "There are two alternatives to this move, depending on your luck, or dominance of the blade. Instantly after you recourse your blade, strike it into the arm, more specifically: palm, of the opponent. This is, of course, quite a risky maneuver, since you must position your arm under his blow, and your own shoulder dangerously open. Therefore this move is only for the most experienced, or most foolish. In other words, I hope you never do it. The second alternative is to follow his movement with your arm (to avoid him stabbing you) and force your blade into his underarm. It is a quite hard maneuver to do right, but if you have the right grip of the blade, you could easily evacuate the attack if needed. This is also a move that would probably confuse the other person, since he would never suspect you using your own body in touch with his sword, thus elbowing it away would be quite easy."

Then, Marley showed Lindy the right way to approach the blow, the right way to position the blade, the right back curling and slightly nipping of blade arm into the opponents arm or sword so that it went away from hurts grasp, while having the arm going forward for a stinging bite into the opponent's underarm, which now should be perfectly open.

Angus was amazed. These were moves he had never seen before, and they really scared him. Marley would surely be harder to kill than first imagined, if killing him would be possible at all.

Then Lindy tried a couple of times on the same move, and handled the move to some extent.
Angus was now sure that it would be hard to kill even Lindy, and he wondered what to do, and whom he could hope to kill with his short-ranged steel. It, of course, had to be Rapp and Rum, and Rapp was a cook, so he being a master swordsman was unlikely, and Rum was way too fat to be of any use in a fight anyway. Even so, Angus really hoped that he had had his old long-sword. With that, he could have had them away from a longer hold than the short cutlass.

Thus, it was decided! First Lindy and Marley would die by the two guns, and then Angus' cutlass would cut open Rapp and Rum.

Marley and Lindy had now finished their fight, gone over to the campfire, and sat now right next to Rum.
"Look here," Rum said proudly to the newcomers. "Look what I killed a couple of hours ago." He showed them an immense vulture with great pride. "It even carried a great snake, which Rapp is preparing for supper by the way."

Angus crept closer.

"Wow!" Lindy replied, amazed. "That's amazing. How did you manage to kill it?"

Angus had now reached the bushes right behind Lindy and Marley.

"Oh! That was nothing really..." Rum started with a smile, while reaching for something from behind the mug he sat on.

Angus now took forth his two guns. Slowly, and quietly he positioned the necks firmly in the correct position for two quick kills.

"It was really nothing..." Rum said again proudly as he appeared from behind the barrel.

Angus was full of hate now, and pressed the trigger of the gun positioned towards Marley's head instantly before the finger on the next gun had touched the cold iron of the firing mechanism of that gun. The next gun's mechanism never got in motion though, for Angus had seen something that instantly revealed his doom.

The words that Rum had muttered had gone unnoticed through Angus' mind, but the sight of the main character in Rum's boasting had sent panic into his every nerve.

"Not at least with these little beauties!" Rum patted carefully a musket, and two guns. "I got them straight from Europe right before sailing into these wretched waters."

Thousands upon thousands of thoughts filled Angus mind, as he in the brake between the pressing of the gun, and the fire of it, thought about how horrible a death he would suffer. His life was gone forever now, and he would probably not even have time to breathe a second breath.

Then it came, the thing that Angus mind had been awaiting for a millisecond. The neck of the gun reached the gunpowder with a loud and greatly wet smack. Angus could feel his thumb, first finger, and arm sprayed with cold drops of water.

The realizing of the wet gunpowder sent Angus into a great breathing, which he had a hard time controlling bellow the hear-ability of the men around the campfire.

The gunpowder was wet, and thus useless.

Lindy had heard the smacking of the gun, but since no one else seemed to notice the faint metallic sound, he thought that his imagination had affected his hearing, and he cursed himself for still being such a child.
After a while, Angus was able to breathe normally again, and defeated (at least in spirit) he slowly crawled away from the campfire, and was in the thoughts of leaving the camp, and giving up his hope of finding the treasure.

When Angus had crept out of the fire's shine, he seemed to hear a faint calling whisper, as from a tree full of wind, coming from a tent raised at the other side of the fire. Angus looked curiously over the fire and observed the tent with interested eyes. He then noticed that the tent blinked. Angus then understood that the map had to be inside that tent, and that it was calling for him. Angus therefore slowly crawled around to the other side of the fire, and then towards the tent.

When he reached the tent, he thought he could hear a calm humming, and the tent itself gave forth a calming light green flicker. Angus then slowly crept underneath the tent-blanket and inside the tent. The inside shone with glorious green lights, and the curves of the tent seemed like heavens cloudily borders, or blissful tree-trunks of green, unstained by autumn. In the midst of the room, the source of it all lay in a glorious might and brightly light. The map!

Angus crept with awe closer; but then as he stretched out towards the map, a thought came to him. What would happen when the others found the map missing? They would surely try to find, and then kill the thief. The risk was too great, Angus needed all the time he could obtain, and the most folly thing he could do was to give the others a reason to hasten also. Therefore, he found some paper and some ink and carefully scribed the map down.

He took great concern in making the lines perfect, because he did not want to spoil the perfect image that the map was. He closely traced the shoreline, and with much thought of detail, retraced the images of horrible sea monsters onto his own paper. Then the jungles went down with great care, and each tree was a perfect copy of the original. The mountain chain even seemed greater in Angus version than it had been in the original; it almost seemed to heighten itself out of the paper.

Angus used hour after hour on this work, making a perfect copy, or even improving the original, while the original continued humming its song to Angus, and seemed to tell him what to draw. Angus was just about to finish drawing the altar of light, of which the treasure was supposed to be, when he heard voices coming from right outside the tent.

They started to untie the bottom rope for the "door" of the tent.

The sides of the altar where now perfectly portrayed.

The middle tie opened, and a particularly funny joke from Rapp had sent all the others into a great laugh.

The top was slowly painted, and the pictures of the stone redrawn.

The topmost tie lastly opened. Rum, Lindy, Marley and Rapp entered the tent, to a fluttering of the back tent-side. They looked at each other in wonder. It had been wind-still the complete day.
Then a great wind suddenly came over the place, and with it, all their wonder and thoughts silenced. Quickly afterwards the wind died again. They went to bed quickly afterwards, without planning for the next day, and without gloriously thoughts and tales about the coming treasure. They where all in great wonder about the wind that seemed to blank their minds, and only had lasted for five seconds.

Angus on the other hand, had left the camp, studied the map, and laid a good course.
He traveled now, light-hearted, and was amazed at his own luck. Soon the sky opened its carpet of clouds, and the road was now clear in front of Angus' cheerful feet.

He journeyed all night, and nearly ran the entire next day. The soft chanting of nature constantly followed Angus, encouraging him to hasten and fulfil his quest. It was almost like a song Angus thought for himself, as he grew aware of a distinct tune coming from a mockingbird. In addition, every time he grew tired, slow calming winds gave him new strength and hope in his travels.

The crew of the Grog Villains Beauty however, was still sleeping when the sun reached its peak on the horizon, and when they finally awoke, an hour after the sun had begun its decent, they could hear nasty and mocking laughter. They were in fact so amazed by this and their own oversleep that it took them another hour just to get organized and along on their travels.

It was now starting to get dark again. The sun was setting, and had already dipped its own edge into the Caribbean ocean. Nevertheless, a massive mountain chain hid that sight from Angus eyes. Angus was close to his destination, and the jungle had grown more and more vicious. He had to cut away branches and plants for every step he took. It was as if no person had ever walked in these areas before.
Then, after cutting through a whole trunk of a rotting palm, the sight that he had longed for was there. The altar of light!

He focused all his power, and smashed hard into the trunk a final time, smashing it in two. A few more swipes with his cutlass, and he could easily run into the small open area surrounding the altar.

He had now finally reached the open area surrounding the altar. It was like a temple made out of the jungle itself. The plants had made their own ornaments around the altar, and the trees at the borders to the jungle, seemed like carved walls. However, none of this interested Angus now. He had long wondered what the indecipherable letters on the light altar on the map were, but now he could easily read them. Surrounding the altar these letters where carved into the large stone: "The powers of unbelievable beliefs are here inside."

"Inside... " Angus noticed that the altar's top was indeed just a lid of some kind. He tried to move it, but it would not budge, so he read on: "This gate will not open by any known or unknown forces. To open the gate you must give blood to the good god of Xyzta "Keeper of light". The sun must itself gaze upon it so that it can see that the giver is pure."

Angus looked up towards the sky. It was long since the sun had disappeared now. Angus therefore decided to make a little camp, and get some rest. He quickly made himself a short meal, and ate while listening to the crack of trees, and their swaying of branches in the wind. It was all so unreal now. The treasure was not what he suspected it to be. At first, he had believed it to be some grand treasure that a pirate or a Spaniard had hidden away. Now, it seemed that it was one of the Indian's treasures, and it even looked unlooted! Like anyone else, Angus had heard the tales of the great riches these petty godless creatures hid away, and now he was going to get his hands unto a whole treasure, possibly filled with gold and jewels. He could retire, and live a life full of luxury; he might even get nobility for retrieving such a grand treasure for his country. Angus smiled joyfully as he thought about all that was to be his while he tried to get some sleep.

Hours went but still Angus had not fallen asleep, even though he had toiled for two long days and soon three nights. He was now starting to get desperate. He had started to believe that he was hearing the others coming to get him, and stealing his treasure.

At last, Angus got up from his new made bed of soft branches, he was now nervous. He thought that he could hear his former crew talking in the trees nearby. Then suddenly he believed that his ears caught the distinct sound of a gun firing. He looked impatient at the sky. Only the moon, creeping slowly over the treetops was visible.

The map says altar of LIGHT, Angus thought for himself, so why not? He went towards the altar, looked into the bowl that was supposed to be used to hold the blood. He looked up again at the moon. It was a full moon, and everything around him was bright.

Angus thought he heard a crack of a branch. He then took forth his cutlass and cut open a small flick of skin from one of his fingers. While every tree in the forest seemed gasped and come with warning woes and warnings of doom, Angus influenced by his panicking mind let a drop of blood fall down towards the bowl.

The blood drop flew silently towards the bowl as in slow motion, every sense Angus had, told him that this was a bad move, and that he had to stroke the blood drop away with his hands. Even so, his panicking mind had frozen his limbs into a hold. He still feared that his former "friends" would appear from the jungle.

Then suddenly he heard a terrible and painful shriek from inside the woods. Angus instantly recognised the voice; it was his own!

He now got out of his panic trance, and quickly waved his hands over the bowl to stop the drop in its flight. He succeeded, the drop landed securely into his palm. Angus was relieved, and proudly gazed at his hand that proclaimed his deed. Then his great mistake was relieved to him; he had used the hand that was bleeding!

Angus gazed horrified at the long trail of blood-drops coming in an arch at the ground from the bowl. Angus then with great fear gazed into the bowl. The earth seemed to tremble, and the winds were mourning. A single drop of blood had landed on the brink of the bowl.

Now the lid slowly opened. From it, a light of clear green shone.

Everything shook. At last, it was fully open, and all plants and animals nearby seemed to sing a great, but mournful, hymn of praise. Angus was breathless as he walked amazed into the altar so that he could better see all the glory within.

The last thing Angus could remember, before entering the great glory of green, was the inscription of the inner walls of the altar: When someone fools Xyzta, and man has enough knowledge of things, the great gift of the gods will fall to the rightful masters.

Then there was green. Only green in fact. A great green light replaced all sight. Even when Angus closed his eyes, the green continued its glow. The thought made Angus think about the green moors of old Scotland.

Then while his eyes where still closed, he scented a smell he had not felt for ages. It was a muddy smell, filled with a hint of sheep manure. Amazed, Angus opened his eyes, and realised to his shock that he had come to Scotland again! There was the old McDow Castle, and all around it, the shepherds were herding the sheep home for the night. Angus smiled gladly and ran home. He did not have to go far though, even though the castle was about two hundred metres away. Within a second, his run was over. It was as if he had only run two metres. Angus did not think of these things though, now he was outside the great and proud castle, filled with history. There, there stood his granduncle Fergus and saluted him at the gate. "Hail to the saviour of our land!" he cried loudly. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a group of twenty or more, old relatives joined in on the after-yell. "Hail to Angus McDow, ruler of all!"

Angus found this rather strange; not that they had appeared out of nothing, but rather that they had yelled "ruler of all". He smiled and bowed, and acted like nothing though, trying to be polite. Afterwards he decided that he would ask his granduncle why he had used those words. Angus tried in vain the next few hours to get close to him, but it was quite hard, since it was a grand celebration inside the castle, and everyone wanted his attention. Then, at last, when a great meal made out of living sheep tucked into fried cows stomachs came on the table, he was able to sneak away from the attention of the others with a poor excuse. He did not really like haggis, he said politely. It was an underestimate though; he really hated the stuff. He indeed hated it so much, that he could not be in the same room as it. They also had horrified the recipe greatly he saw.

Angus met his granduncle Fergus in the kitchen. Fergus greeted first though. "Why aren't you in the hall and enjoying your haggis?" he asked Angus, with shocked eyes. "You known that you're no Scotsman if you don't eat it right?"

Angus felt scared; he really hated the stuff, and could not lie to his uncle. "Please don't force me to go back!" he cried.

"It is your duty to Scotland laddie!" Fergus replied proudly, while starting to push him back inside the hall.

"No, no, no!" Angus cried in panic, he could not believe that he HAD to eat haggis.

Then suddenly, a thought came into his mind; his question to his uncle, he had to ask the question.
The next moment Fergus sat in a large and dusty chair, and calmly patted on his pipe. Angus came slowly and deferentially into the library with a bowed head.

"Yes?" Fergus asked, while looking calmly over his book.

"Ehm!" Angus started uncertainly, clearly unsure what he was to expect. "Why did you really, ehm... Dear uncle! Why was it that you, you called me ruler of all?"

"Ruler of all?" his uncle snarled at him. "You're not even a ruler of a single sheep, you unworthy scum!" With a great smile, he waved his book in front of Angus. The heading read: "Ancient tortures from Hell."

"You're quite a cocky little soul, huh? Let's see if some of these recipes would lower your spirit..."

Angus was horrified. This could not be real! He was going to be tortured for asking a single question?
Suddenly, he found himself tied to a table in the dark moist dungeon of the castle, and all around him, he could see tools of torture. Fergus himself was now sharpening an especially dangerous-looking knife. It had the shape of a small, palm-sized, scythe or a sickle. This had to be a horrible dream or something. Angus thought for himself miserably.

Yes, of course! A dream.

He had to try to awake. He had to waken from this nightmare. Angus thoughts ground towards awakening, but it never happened. The only thing that happened was that the same scene was happening in different surroundings. At last he was broken, and he realized that he had to accept the torments that were to come.

He now tried to get ready for the pain. He knew that he had to focus on something other than the pain! It was hard however; Fergus did everything that he could to make him perfectly clear over his coming fate.
Then at last, when Fergus had already cut one long and painful stripe of skin from Angus back and was closing in for a new go, Angus mind flew towards the Mêlée Island mansion, and its bedroom.
Instantly he was there, and nothing except from a blood-ripping wound from his back could tell about his former location. Now, in the room where he had once slept so easily and well, he washed away his blood from his back. To his amazement, Angus noticed that the wound had already recovered. The only thing left of it now, was a long thin scar.

Angus then collapsed on the bed, and unable to think straight, he collapsed.

The End

Writer's note (for especially interested readers):

Here ends the tale of Angus McDow and his travels with the now famous "Big Whoop" crew.
Still, some answers from this tale are hidden from my knowledge. Especially about the four remaining members of the Grog Villain Beauty's crew. Even though I cannot certainly say something about their later fates, I got some clear and possible theories:

They most probably found the altar open. As to what they saw, few know today. The Voodoo Lady seems to know some of the truth, but she does not seem to have gained all information on this matter.
When referring to the book, "Big Whoop: Unclaimed Bonanza or Myth?" that is found at the Phatt island library, one could easily, when also considering the time span in which they were on Monkey Island, see that there is only two possible visions that could have scared or amazed them. They may have entered the place when Angus was down into the McDow dungeon. Even they, in their great hatred towards Angus, could not witness the gruesome scenes portrayed there. They therefore, in great fear of the tortures that seemed to reward those entering the altar, split the map, and went separate ways.
Or, it might be that they had entered during the grand feast; and amazed by the great wealth decided to leave and gather more men to carry away all the riches. Since they did not trust each other any longer, they split the map, and later separated for unknown reason. (Most probably, because they trusted the local inhabitants of the Tri-Island Area even less than they trusted the others in the group.)

Even so, these are just mere speculations on my part. After hearing this story, Angus and I became separated under grave circumstances (the Voodoo Lady herself came into my house... ) before I could ask any proper questions.

The story is genuine though to most extents. I, nor Angus, could not of course known of the other people's thoughts and feelings. Therefore, I have only portrayed this where it seemed logical that they had such thoughts and feelings. This artistic freedom, as I like to call it, along with my freedom with the animals in the last chapter, I have included just to please the readers. The rest of the story though, is the complete truth, although some details and facts might have been lost in Angus memory.

This book is supposed to clear the misunderstandings that "Big Whoop: Unclaimed Bonanza or Myth?" and local myths have created. This story is the truth, while the book, and the numerous of tales are just pure propaganda.


Written, by the most honourable and trustworthy Jim McDow, from the verbal account of the even more honourable and trustworthy Angus McDow.


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