I wrote this as a writing exercise for my creative writing class in senior year of high school. We would have authors come in and guest teach in the morning, one particular author, whom I cannot remember the name of, challenged us to write as much as we could in five minutes starting with "The moon hung high in the ebony sky...". I was not one to share what I had written in class, but for some reason, I did that morning. The author gave the impression that he was impressed with my work which inspired the rest of my work for the year.

The moon hung high in the ebony sky and the cool, ocean waves muffled the sound of the vessel burning slowly in the distance. The sailor walked about the ship with a calm and complete overall feeling, for it was him who had set the fire, to begin with. The flames grew more and more enraged, but the heat was not the main concern as the smell of the burning flesh of the other sailors had become overwhelming. The man walked toward the side of the ship, his mind growing insane. He leant over the railing of the ship and, just as the vessel had begun to explode, she grabbed his throat and pulled him overboard.

They ricochetted off of the side of the ship and plummeted towards the bottom of the ocean. Shards of metal bulleted towards them, slicing the sailor’s bicep once. The man screamed and struggled to break free of her ice cold grasp. He ran out of air shortly, his body fell limp in her arms.

The sailor was dragged to the bottom of the dark, ocean floor. The woman who had caught him still had her hold on his throat. She brought her face to his and parted her lips. A bluish essence flowed from his mouth, through his blue lips, and came into her; she consumed his soul without a second thought.

It's funny how that tends to happen, maliciousness is often punished by an even more malicious force.