He was going to be executed for a crime that he did not commit. The witnesses all pointed to him, swearing he was the one who pulled the trigger of the gun that killed some poor, elderly man on the dark streets of their town. Guilty! Guilty! They all agreed. Alfred never really had the chance to prove his innocence. It was the words of many against his own. He was sentenced to hang as soon as the sun arose the next morning.

What was the young man doing the night at the time of the murder? The answer was very simple. He was walking home from his first day of an internship at a local blacksmith, but happened to be on the same street as the killer. An unfortunate misunderstanding and the lying eyes of the townspeople had signed his life away. Sometimes even the innocent were condemned to die and the truly guilty lived on to repeat their crimes.

The chains and the smell of the crude cell were nearly unbearable. Musty stenches of mold and piss burned his throat and his nostrils. He felt the urge to throw up, but he simply could not. The bruises and scrapes from being beaten by some of the local men went untreated, and the bugs inside his cell loved to land on them almost constantly. He had to shake his body the best he could to scare them away, paining himself in the process.

Hours upon hours past, Alfred's lips were now dried with his own blood. The wounds of biting into them kept reopening, so he had to take an extra measure to remember to bite inside his cheek instead, at least until he could do something about his pain. Rats scurried across the floor every once in a while. He worried they would soon begin to bother him. Rumbling in his stomach broke the cold silence, reminding him that he hadn't eaten today nor would he ever again. He closed his eyes and waited for the sun to come up. His suffering would soon end, even if he was dead.

It was a rather sleepy little port town for the most part. There were probably very little precious treasures like gold and jewels, but there were other things of considerable value that him and his men needed quite desperately. Food, rum, and a nice change of clothing, supplies that kept them afloat. No one really suspected a thing when the pirate ship came to shore. There were little ways to warn all the people of the town of the coming attack. It was too easy for the pirates to plunder through shops and private residences, taking whatever they wanted, killing if need be.

Captain Kirkland was well known and terribly feared. He could simply appear in one place, destroy it, and then disappear without so much as a clue of where he would go next. He was just as much as a mystery to anyone as any old legend was told by the bedside of naughty children and those born with a sense of adventure. Tonight common nightmares about pirates were becoming a terrible reality.

Screams of men, women, and children echoed throughout the airways. The smell of thick smoke could be detected even where Alfred was detained. He was completely clueless of what the outside world had in store for those people. An attack was one of the last few things on his mind. He thought maybe an accident had occurred, causing a fire to break out. His own safety was unlikely. Surely no one would care to check on him or even all the other sentenced to die prisoners in all the other cells beyond his own.

He watched the town burn. The flames laughed along with him. Captain Kirkland was said to be insane. One could say he thirsted for violence more than the idea of gaining fortune. As far as the eyes could see, the theory might have been correct.

"Where might I find some able bodied men in this town?" The question was simple enough. He needed new crew members to replace the ones he lost in a storm only a matter of days ago. "Prisoners or any men daring enough to tame the seas?" He was unanswered by the shivering man in his grasp, impatient as Kirkland was, he merely tossed him aside to find his own way. Every town and every village had their bad fruit. It was only a matter of finding them and forcing them to service.

Alfred heard the sound of heavy footsteps. By now the smoke was seeping through the small cracks of the walls, irritating his eyes. He hoped it was someone who would tell him news about what was going on. Little did he know this was possibly his ticket to freedom, only a very different kind of freedom.

The man that strolled through, passing his cell, and then all the others, was not the sheriff or anyone else that Alfred recognized. Instead, he quickly realize that this man was a pirate. He had no more time to think.

"Well, I can't say I'm too impressed with the likes of you men. Too old, too fat, and even painfully stupid looking.." The strange pirate rolled his eyes, stepping from cell to cell, finally making his way to Alfred once again. "I suppose stupidity could be a little useful, perhaps you'll stay alive long enough for me to find more suitable replacements."

Disbelieving his own ears, Alfred stared into the eyes of the pirate. He didn't care what the man had implied about his intelligence, in fact he knew better to lash out insults while being in his position. "And you think I going to become a criminal like you? I may be locked inside a cell, but I did nothing wrong, and I'm sure as hell ain't becoming friendly with pirates."

"Death is always an option, little fool," chuckled the captain, unlocking the door with the keys stolen from the murdered guard. "Come with me and maybe you'll die like a man, instead of a worm on a line with all the fish watching you like hungry mongrels. The right choice is obvious."

The only noble choice was to die with a stain free heart, free of evil and guilt. Alfred knew that if he became a pirate, his name would be ruined forever. But then again, he was already deemed a murderer. With a deep feeling of dread building in his gut, Alfred reluctantly agreed.

A/N: Just felt in the mood to write something and ended up with this.