the banshee's revenge

jenson lay motionless behind the wind swept dune that ran parallel to the foaming emerald coastline. the slow tumble of the beach breakers were followed by the gentle hiss of the receding surf. jenson rolled over and took another look over the dune. an ominous black frigate was trolling the island. there was no mistake about it, she was the pirate ship banshee. jenson had been dropped off on this inhospitable dot of land several months earlier with a few other captured men and left for dead. half starved and ragged, jenson was the only one left alive. they had come back, but for what? whatever the reason, if spotted, he would be hunted down and carved up by the banshee's merciless crew. he glanced up into the unforgiving tropical sun and vowed he would not be taken alive. he whispered a prayer that his powder was dry and pulled back the massive hammer on his rusted musket. jenson brought the heavy iron barrel up to rest on the dune's edge.
he squinted down the long barrel until his focus narrowed in on a dark figure standing at the helm of the black frigate.
there was no mistaking the bulky silhouette with furled captain's hat, it was the dreaded pirate jean moldeaux.
a crooked snear curled jenson's cracked lips as his finger tightened on the trigger. just then, a powerful hand grabbed jenson's wrist from behind, snatching him backwards to his feet like a rag doll. "are these your new school pants i told you not to play in?" the boy's mother demanded. jenson reluctantly began slapping the sand from his knees with his free hand. "you march inside and change this instant young man!"
jenson picked up his musket and trudged across the searing sands of the remote island. he paused and glanced back over the glistening ocean. the banshee was now a mere dot on the distant horizon.
"this shit ain't over moldeaux" he thought to himself, "this shit ain't over."