Ghost Pirate Boyfriend: Gustaff Von Malevance #1 (complete)

My family has owned and operated a Naval History museum for ages, only recently have we gotten government backing and grants. I worked ages trying to help renovate the place and help keep my grandfather’s memories intact. He had started the museum because of his and my grandmother’s passion for the ocean, which they had both grown up on.

My grandmother had told me stories of the sea ever since I was little, they were more fairy tales than anything. She told me about mermaids and witches in the waters, pirates and buried treasure we could only imagine. One of her favorite things she used to tell me stories about was an old locked chest that had been passed down through the family.

“No one in our family has ever been able to open this chest. Not to pick the lock. Not with a crowbar. Hell, your uncle Mortimer tried to blow it open with a gun. Nothing. This chest is cursed, you know?” She asked me a bright smile on her face.

“Cursed?” I fell for it hook, line and sinker ever time. 

My grandmother would grin at me and wink. “One day, this chest will be yours.” She then spoke to me in a low hushed voice. “There is a treasure in here that is worth more than anything, but it can only be opened by the right person at the right time. The pirate who sealed it made sure of that.”

“So no one knows what’s in it?” I asked in awe.

“No one, baby girl.” She whispered. “But maybe, one day, we’ll be able to see what’s inside it.”

The strange little chest is kept on display at the front of the museum, along with my grandfather and father’s medals from their time served in the Navy. Grandpa is gone, but Grandma still runs the front desk from time to time. She stops any little child with curiosity to tell them about the chest.

I know now that the chest is just a block of wood made to look like it can open like a treasure chest. I figured that out when I was a teen, or at least that’s what Uncle Mortimer told me. He said Grandma just likes to tell stories, so no one says anything since we all loved Grandma and her stories.

One day, we got word that there was a huge discovery further up north pertaining to a local legend. Centuries ago, there was a pirate who had taken over our little seaside town and made it his headquarters and hideout. The pirate, Gustaaf Von Malevance, also one of my grandmother’s great stories, was a legend here in Port Rosemary. It has been proven that ages ago, he lived here and his ship came and left the docks often, but most of the stories about him are just legend and folklore at this point. If anything, Captain Von Malevance is a cryptid like any Bigfoot or Mothman.

As Grandma’s stories go, aside from the chest, this was one of her favorites. She claimed her family was related to Von Malevance, but due to shame and horror, changed their name early on. She said that Von Malevance had made a supernatural pact, not with the devil, but with something that lived in the sea, a creature much older than the devil. He traded his humanity for the chance to become powerful and almighty so that he could rule the ocean and create a vast wealth and empire for himself. He became feared and hated, and soon military action was called against him. It wasn’t the military that stopped him though, but a heroic ragtag bunch of men from Port Rosemary who took Von Malevance down. 

It was said he was simply thrown overboard, but it was now learned he was sealed away in a crypt further north along the coast. The Tomb of Von Malevance was unearthed and much of his belongings were found, along with his mummified remains. 

Immediately, my grandmother set into a fury of work and dedication. We prepared a room for Von Malevance and even got donations from the entire town to renovate and get the special equipment we needed. We hired new people to work the new exhibit, as well as guards.

The day the remains of Von Malevance were brought in was humbling. He was sealed in a special glass chamber and was displayed in the center of the new exhibit. I was shocked by how massive he was. Even mummified, shrunken, and raisined, his figure and silhouette in the glass chamber was imposing. Well over seven feet tall and extremely broad, his wrapped body was sealed by rusted chain and metal bands. 

“I never thought I’d live to see the day.” My grandmother is in awe as she stands beside him. “In the flesh.” She smiles at the glass. “It’s good to see you, Mr. Von Malevance.”

The belongings in his tomb are set up as well. This included swords, guns, assorted treasure and clothing. The flag from his ship is proudly hung across the entire back of the exhibit. It is black with a red bird in the center. There is also an old journal and it is set on a page where it is smeared with blood that had blackened with age and mold. 

“Can’t you feel the power here, Grace?” Grandma asks. 

“I must admit,” I chuckle as I walk around the room. “It’s like learning Loch Ness is real and seeing her in a zoo.”

“Almost wrong?” Grandma smirks.

I nod. “Exactly.”

There is a small room adjacent to the main exhibit, it is dedicated to the men who had brought Von Malevance down. The only reason it is up is because of a massive donation from Garrett Baudelaire, a rich man in Port Rosemary, whose ancestor had lead the charge against the pirate. There are records and logs about the Baudelaires, including a journal from a woman at the time who was murdered by Von Malevance, although much of the journal had been ripped out. There is also this ostentatious, massive painting of Reginald Baudelaire. The man looked just as pompous and stuffy as Garrett does today. 

The “Baudelaire Room” is my only complaint, other than that everything looks amazing and people from all over have been coming in to see the local Port Rosemary legend in the flesh. 

One evening, just before closing, a man using a cane comes hobbling in to the museum. He pays for his ticket and then immediately goes over to Von Malevance’s side. 

Grandma comes up to me as I am cleaning one of the other exhibits and points to the man. “I don’t think he’s well,” she whispers. “When he handed me the money, he was breathing funny and he smelled a little funny.”

I turn to look at the man, he’s wearing a big hoodie that keeps most of him covered. I can’t see his face, only his hands as he holds onto the barrier around Von Malevance and his display. It is close to closing time, so I approach the man.

“Are you enjoying your visit?” I ask him. “It’s getting late, we’re about to close.”

I nod to the guard behind me just in case, but I didn’t think anything would come of it. The man sighs and his shoulders slouch. 

“I thought I had searched everywhere,” he murmurs. “I thought I had figured old Baudelaire out.”

I furrow my brow and tilt my head towards him. “Oh?”

“I guess I just wasn’t looking hard enough,” he grumbles. “Oh boy, is he going to be pissed at me.” He shakes.

“Excuse me?” I turn fully towards the man. I then notice that fog is filling up the entire museum. It pools around the floor and begins to rise towards my knees. I gasp and take a step backwards. 

“Thank you, young lady, for putting on your exhibit.” The man reaches up and pushes down his hoodie. “I was finally able to find my old friend.”

The man is completely covered in scales. He has gills and fins along the side of his neck. He’s striped silver and gray with solid, dark eyes. He turns and looks at me, and his scales begin to radiate with a bioluminescent glow. 

“I’m sorry I have to ruin your hard work.” He then grabs hold of my wrist and I try to fight against him. The guard starts to move, but suddenly drops to his knees and topples to the ground.

“Oh no!” I gasp in fear. I turn to where my grandmother is standing and I see her staring in fear from the doorway.

The fishman nods at her. “I’m very sorry, ma’am, but could you fetch me the chest you have displayed in the lobby?”

“What for?” Grandma steps forward.

“I have my reasons. Go fetch it for me, please.” He glances down to the guard on the floor. “Or else?” He seems confused on how to threaten.

Grandma goes to the lobby and returns with the old chest. Still holding onto me, the fishman takes the chest in his hand.

“It’s nothing but a prop!” I blurt at him. “It’s just a toy, there’s nothing inside it.”

“You think?” The fishman sets the chest down on the ground and makes me kneel beside him. He holds the lock up so the keyhole is revealed. He then takes my hand and pricks my finger with one of his sharp claws. I wince and whine, trying to yank my hand away, but he holds me fast. He places my bleeding fingertip over the keyhole and a drop of blood splashes inside. A moment later, the lock falls off.

“Oh my god,” Grandma cups her hands over her mouth.

The fishman opens up the chest and, inside, there is something wrapped in paper. Looking at the paper, I see they are pages from a diary and the handwriting looks strikingly familiar. 

The fishman lets go of my hands. “Take it out,” he commands me.

“What?” I blurt at him.

“Take it out, I can’t do it. You’re the one that has to do it,” he speaks rather calmly. “Go on now,” he urges.

I take out the paper wrapped object and in my clasped palm, it pulses. I hold my breath as it begins to glow from within. It’s pulse continues steady and gentle like a beating heart. In fact, I think that is exactly what this is.

“I can’t believe it,” Grandma whispers.

The fishman stands up and pushes away the barrier around Von Malevance. He places his hands on the glass and shoves it away. The glass and Von Malevance topple to the ground and the mummified body makes a hollow thud. Alarms start blaring and the fog is now around my waist.

The fishman points at the body on the ground. “Go on, give it to him.”

“Are you joking?” I scoff at him. In my palms, the heart’s pulse has begun to grow faster. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“I’m keeping a promise to an old friend, you just happened to be at the right place at the right time.” He points through the fog. “Hurry, give it to him.”

I can’t see through the fog, but as I step to where the body fell, I can hear chains rattling. There is a slow, shallow breathing that makes the fog swirl and move around. I’m shaking horribly and, as I start to stoop, a hand reaches out of the fog and grabs my wrists.

I scream in horror and Grandma comes racing in. The fishman holds her back as I struggle against the hands that pull me down into the fog. I feel like I’m falling forever, toppling and spinning through an endless void of fog and shadows. I see the heart glowing before me and then he rises. 

Above the fog, his body glows with a faint aura. The wrappings and chains fall away from his body and he grabs me up by the scruff of my neck like a kitten. He stands well over seven feet and his broad shoulders and barrel chest protrude out. Through the ribs and glowing flesh, his heart pounds and beats, still wrapped in the diary pages. 

“Lir,” his voice is so deep it rumbles in my head like an echo. “You took your motherfucking time, didn’t you?”

“Forgive me,” Lir, the fishman, bows slightly. “I’m rather stupid, don’t you know?”

Von Malevance’s slightly unhinged jaw clatters and squeaks as his ghostly flesh forms into a smile. “You befriended me, so I know for a fact your mind isn’t quite all there.”

Both start to laugh and I try to struggle to get away, but Von Malevance holds me up higher and I scream.

“Please!” Grandma cries out. “Let her go, she did what he said.”

Von Malevance turns and looks at her. “You look familiar,” he grumbles. “Older but, you remind me of my sister.”

“Eliza,” my grandmother says with a panicked nod. “Right?”

Von Malevance’s gold coin eyes flicker brightly. “How did you know that?”

“She is my great-great-grandmother,” Grandma whispers then motions to me. “And that is my granddaughter, Grace.”

“That explains why the chest opened.” Von Malevance lays his hand over his pulsing heart. “It’s always nice to meet the family. Well done, Lir.”

“It all fell into place, sir,” Lir replies. “Almost as if it was fated to be, really.”

Von Malevance steps over the glass and chains on the ground. The fog is whipping up higher and higher around the exhibit. “Make sure all my things are returned,” he replies. He then spies the portrait of Reginald Baudelaire hanging on the wall. He tosses me over his shoulder and storms over to the painting.

“What is this bastard doing here?” He snarls.

“His descendant paid for much of this exhibit, including your-” before I can even finish, Von Malevance has the painting in his hands and has snapped the frame over his knee. He rips the canvas to shreds. Once he drops the remains on the ground, I think I hear him pissing on it.

“Now, where is it?” Von Malevance snarls. He looks around the Baudelaire room before slapping away the glass box containing the diary. “There she is.” He pockets the diary, as well as a locket belonging to the woman who wrote it.

“Let’s go, Lir,” Von Malevance turns and starts to walk out the door.

“Wait!” Grandma gives chase outside. “Where are you taking her?”

“It’s best you stay inside, ma’am,” Lir tells her gently. “Everything will be over and done with inside shortly, I promise.”

“I’m not worried about that!” Grandma barks at him. “Where are you taking my Grace? Why do you need her?”

“She isn’t your Grace anymore,” Von Malevance snarls back at Grandma. “I need her more than you do now.”

Grandma glares at him, a look I hadn’t seen since Grandpa had forgotten her sixtieth birthday. “Bullshit!” She roars. “She’s my granddaughter, and I don’t care who you are, but you will put her down this instant!”

Lir approaches Grandma and appears to try and soothe her, but she fights against him. A moment later, Grandma swoons and Lir catches her.

“Grandma!” I cry out, but Von Malevance holds me down as I try to wriggle free.

“She’ll be ok,” Lir says. “I’ll go lay her down inside. She’ll wake up once the ship is off the horizon.”

“The ship?” I whisper. I look up towards the port and my jaw drops completely through the ground. Hovering over the dock is a massive ship, glowing with the same radiance that Von Malevance and Lir are. 

“Oh my god,” I stare in awe. 

“There she is,” Von Malevance grins, his jaw groaning as he chuckles. “The Devil’s Swift.”

Von Malevance and Lir take me aboard the ghostly ship. Once there, they are greeted by spirits of the pirates who had died onboard. Their raucous applause and welcome of their captain deafens me, I can’t hear anything beyond their celebration.

Von Malevance takes me and places me in a room. “You stay here until I finish what I need,” he tells me. 

“And what is that?” I snap at him. “What do you want with me?”

Von Malevance takes the locket and clasps it around my neck. The locket falls on my chest and adheres to my skin. I choke as an overwhelming sensation of cold and damp surrounds me. I try to scrape at the locket, but it is now attached to my body.

“What’s happening?” I cry. “Why won’t it come off?” I’m scraping the back of my neck as I try to find the clasp of the chain, but I cannot.

“It isn’t for you to worry about anymore.” Von Malevance slips his fingers under my chin and tilts my head up. “Soon, it won’t concern you any longer, so just relax and enjoy the trip while you can.”

“While I can?” I balk.

His long white hair falls off his shoulder as he leans towards me. “You won’t need this body anymore. You’ve done a good job up until this point, but there is someone who needs it more than you.”

My throat closes up with fear and I can barely breathe. Von Malevance leaves without another word and I can hear the celebration from the spirits on deck. I slouch down to the floor, clasping my hands around my neck where the necklace lays.

I hear a music box playing and when I look to the window, I see it is frosted over. As I rise from the floor, a small white hand presses to the glass. I stand before the window, seeing a blurry figure beyond the glass.

“Are you ok?” A woman whispers. The music box begins to play louder when she speaks.

I have seen a lot of unbelievable things today, so I am quite numb to what is happening before me. I stare in disbelief and look around me.

“Don’t let him scare you,” the woman beyond the frost whispers. “He’s worried. He always puts on a bravado when he’s worried.” The music box grows loud again as she speaks.

“Who?” I ask. “Von Malevance?”

“Gustaaf gets scared easily,” she tells me. “He tries to put on this act to scare people, but really, he’s more frightened than anyone. He just needs a soft hand. Lir does his best, but all Gustaaf needs is reassurance.”

“He wants to kill me!” I snap at the woman. “I don’t want to comfort him at all!”

“I’m sorry,” the woman murmurs. “It’s just...All I want for him is to be happy. I know how much he has suffered and I know-” she stops herself and she places a second palm to the window. “I don’t want him to do this, not if it means hurting you.”

I frown. “Who are you?”

The music box suddenly cuts off.

I am woken as I am picked up off the floor and laid in bed by Lir. I scream and kick, striking him upside the head.

“Ow! Fuck!” He yells and cups his hand over his cheek where I kicked. “Quit that! Do you want to stay on that gross floor or-”

“Get away from me!” I scream at him, throwing anything I can get my hands on at him.

“Hey-” he dodges. “Wait just a-” he blocks again. “Let me-” he’s hit in the face again by what looks like a music box. As the music box clatters to the floor, it opens and begins to play. Lir stoops down and picks it up.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He closes the music box then motions to the meal on the desk near the bed. 

I shake my head. “I don’t want anything from you,” I whimper. “You expect me to trust any of you after what happened?” I then point to the locket that’s attached to my body. “You know what he’s going to do to me!”

Lir sighs and his shoulders slouch. “I didn’t think he’d just pick you,” he mutters. Shaking his head he takes a seat. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry!” I laugh. “Sorry?” I then growl and point a finger at him. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes,” he chuckles sadly. “I am.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I think if you knew the whole story, then maybe-” he stops and scoffs. “No, even if you knew the whole story, you would still be upset by it.”

“Lets just assume that I will always be upset,” I gesture broadly. “It doesn’t matter what apologies are made or what food is given to me. I am just always going to be angry and scared deep down in my bones.”

“I know,” Lir sighs. “Please, you must understand how bad I feel you got dragged into this. I’ve been keeping an eye on Von Malevance’s family for ages. I never wanted any harm to come to any of you.”

“You think you don’t sound creepy, but you sound extremely creepy,” I snarl at him. “What do you mean you’ve been watching us?”

Lir reaches over to the plate and grabs a roll. He bites into it, giving me a glimpse of the horrible and nightmarish teeth he possesses. He rips the bread, rather than biting it. “After Von Malevance was captured, I promised to protect his family. His sister, Eliza, still lived in Port Rosemary. They had changed their names long ago, so all I had to do was protect her and her growing family so no one found out their secret. Eventually, I decided it was best to keep my watch in secret, so I hid in the cove and stayed in the ocean. As time moved on and people forgot about Von Malevance, I decided to keep my promise to him and tried to look for where Reginald Baudelaire and his men buried him. Unfortunately, I had no luck.” He shreds more bread and slouches in his seat.

“By the time I had come back to Port Rosemary after searching, your grandmother was a young woman and had married. Von Malevance had only become a rumor at this point, so I settled back down in the place I thought of as home.” He eats more bread. “I watched her family grow up, I watched you grow up.”

“Weird,” I mutter.

Lir chuckles and shrugs. “Maybe. But for me, it was the closest I had to some peace in my life.” He finishes off the bread. “And then Von Malevance was found again.”

“You don’t seem too enthused about it,” I grumble.

“No, believe me, I was. It meant I could fulfill the promise I made to him before.” He reaches back onto the plate and steals what looks like a slab of meat. He bites and rips the meat and it makes my stomach churn. 

“He deserves to seek his revenge after all. What happened to him was a crime.” Lir huffs between bites.

“What happened to him?” I scoff. “He was an evil pirate lord!” I snap and gesture out my arm. “He had to be stopped,”

Lir swallows. “Perhaps. But the attack against him had nothing to do with whatever crimes he committed. His bride was murdered before his own eyes, his heart was shattered that day. His will to live taken from him and he was imprisoned and murdered for a sin he did not commit.”

I frown at him, crossing my arms around my knees as I hug them to my chest. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You had her diary,” Lir laughs. “You’re wearing her locket! Your entire town is named after her,” he scoffs in disbelief. “How do you not know this?”

I shake my head. “Know what?”

“Rosemary Baudelaire,” Lir whispers. “The daughter of Reginald Baudelaire. She and Von Malevance were deeply in love. Her own father killed her when he attacked Von Malevance.” He narrows his eyes at me. “You really don’t know this story?”

My lips parted and I took a slow cautious breath. “No I...I never even knew the town was named after her, I-” I slowly sink back. I glance at the music box and pick it up.

“Von Malevance wants to take his revenge on the Baudelaires for what they did to him and Rosemary.” Lir rips into the meat again. “This includes bringing Rosemary back.”

I turn the music box over and see Rosemary’s name inscribed on the bottom. I pinch my brow and touch the locket around my neck. “Oh-” I say as it clicks in my mind.

“You’re being used so that can happen,” Lir grumbles and takes another massive bite of the meat, finishing it off. “You two will trade places. She will be alive-”

“And I’ll be dead and gone,” I huff.

“Yes, sorry, but yes,” Lir shakes his head. “I will do what I can, but sometimes he cannot be convinced of anything. Especially when he has his mind set on something. And this is about Rosemary, so-”

“Where are we going?” I mutter. I set the music box aside. “If he wanted to seek his revenge against the Baudelaires, then why didn’t he do it when he was revived at the museum?”

“There are things he needs,” Lir says with a shrug. “He has to go back to the island of Cruorem, there he can finish….” he hesitates and his eyes dart around. “Some things.”

“Oh,” I laugh. “Things. Yeah, no, I get it. I don’t want to know all the gruesome little details.” I slouch back against the wall and rest my cheek to my shoulder. 

“I buried her on the island,” he mutters. “Her father threw her overboard, but Von Malevance made me fetch her. He ended his life so she didn’t have to rest at the bottom of the sea.” I see tears in his eyes and I start to unwrap myself from my own arms.

“I took her to Cruorem and I buried her near the home that he had intended for them.” He wipes at his face and takes in a slow deep breath. “If I had just stayed on board the ship, maybe he could have gotten away from them.”

I press my back against the wall again and turn to look at the window where the ghostly woman had just been outside. Was it Rosemary? If so, why hadn’t she just gone to Von Malevance, rather than speaking cryptically to me?

“I know you care none about this,” Lir scoffs. “I don’t blame you. You’re just being used by Von Malevance.” He swallows back and sniffles. “All he can see before himself is his own revenge. Once we get to Cruorem, I pray that somehow he comes to his senses.”

“Maybe,” I grumble. “But I kind of highly doubt it.”

Lir turns to the plate of food and gulps. “Oh, uh...Sorry. I ate more than I realized.”

“I’m not hungry,” I mutter. “You can finish it for all I care.”

“I do mean it when I say I want to help you, Grace,” he replies. “As I said before, you’re like family to me. I don’t want to watch you die like this.”

I look at him and can’t help but feel comforted a bit. “Me too,” I sniffle. “I don’t know what can be done.”

Lir holds his hand out to me. “I promise,” he whispers with urgency, “I’ll do all I can to keep you safe. Consider me your guardian.”

I sit up and stretch out my hand. I take hold of his hand and squeeze it tight. I am not sure I can trust him, but at this hour, I am willing to take any comfort I can.