Lady Jacqueline Scarlet brushed back her hair, and gazed across the crimson clouds as the sun slowly crept behind huge purple mountains. Looking at the sunset made her think of her father, and that made her think of the night her family was killed. The night she swore to kill the pirates that murdered her family.
Jacqueline had belonged to a rich aristocrat family that possessed more wealth than possibly anyone in the world. Jacqueline, or “Jaq” as her mother called her, could have anything she wanted -- toys, gold, jewelry, anything. And she hated it. Her parents thought that could buy her love with expensive gifts, yet were almost never around the house, as they were always off on one of their heavily important business trips. The only ones to keep her company was the maid, who thought she was a little brat, and her Uncle, who to a seven year old Jacqueline was like a personal guardian -- he was always bringing her treats from all sorts of bizarre countries that he explored, and was always free to play with her.
One night, when her parents came back from France, Jaq knew something was wrong. Her father looked scared, an emotion she had never seen on his face. Her mother instructed the maid to put Jaq to bed immediately, but Jaq couldn’t fall asleep. Maybe it was luck, some strange twist of fate, but for the first time in her life, she couldn’t settle. Her heart beat like a trip hammer, and her ears tuned in to every little noise; boards creaking, the clock in her room ticking, the distant hoot of an owl. Then she heard something her small mind couldn’t quite comprehend; it sounded like a loud bang, followed by several more. She thought for a moment. Could her Uncle be using firecrackers inside the house? It wouldn’t be the first time. She quietly got out of bed, and snuck down to the parlor where she heard the noises from. When she got to the base of the stairs, she felt sick at what she saw. Her parents were... were in a pool of blood on the rug in front of the fireplace... the maid was slumped against a bookcase, blood staining the musty books. Her Uncle was bent over in a chair, holding a dagger that was stuck inside his chest. Jaq slowly walked over to her Uncle, and quietly started to cry. Tears fell down her face and mixed with the blood at her feet. Her Uncle looked at her with eyes that seemed thousands of miles away, and muttered, “Get them, Jaq... promise me you’ll get them for this...” before he coughed, and blood dribbled out of his mouth. His eyes glassy, his head fell forwards. Jaq walked to the window in the parlor, and saw a ship slowly flying in the sky away from the house. She grabbed the telescope from her room, a beautiful golden telescope that her Uncle had gotten from India, and peered out the window. She read the words emblazoned on the side... “The Midnight Scar”. For the next twenty years, she searched every corner of the world until she finally shot it down in the Bermuda Triangle. However, her ship never came out of the Triangle, leaving historians to always wonder what happened to her ship...