villain re-vamped (not a vampire reference)

     “Wake up kid.”

     “Huh? Oh my head,” murmured Black as he tried to adjust to the dark. “I’m really getting sick of waking up somewhere new every ten seconds!”

     “I’m sure the pirates will welcome your appreciation for being rescued.”

     “Pirates?” Black questioned, interrupting the unfamiliar voice.

     “Who else would be out sailing in a storm like that?”

     As Black looked around he saw everything he’d expect from a pirate ship, cannons, cannon balls, empty liquor bottles strewn about. He saw the person, or thing now addressing him, leaning against a row of tall bars. Secured with the largest padlock he had ever seen, its smallish head was tilted to the side and its slender limbs wavered with fatigue.  Despite all weariness or perhaps resultant the acute ferocity with which it spoke was like being held at knifepoint.

     Skin dark and metallic like tungsten stretched itself around crooked joints. Pitch scraps of leather and shadow shielded most of the demon leaving only few visible traces of his putrid flesh most of which were pocked with faintly glowing tattoos and scars and unspeakable blemishes. Over its shoulder something broken looking protruded from the beings back.

     Black saw silvery needles lined up behind the creature’s lips, a mouth full of the coldest looking, elongated, evil tainted canines, one of which would make any vampire jealous. Black imagined Gaiean dentistry being among the world’s most dangerous professions. The mere thought seemed to mock the fel creature near him.

     “I am Erra Yaga, the Corrupt. I eat children.”

     “Oh,” was all Black could muster from his tired lungs.

     “Now that we’ve been properly introduced why don’t you let me outta here and I’ll show how to properly use that map.”

     “We haven’t been-“

     “Think boy! Once the pirates figure out what that map is there’s no way you’ll ever see it again. There’s no time to lose let’s go!”

     Black puzzled over the prisoner that stood in his room. Admiring, as another deviant, his walking-battle-scar of an image h still found only disgust and disdain for the withering form. He seemed to know who he was, like he could see into his mind and soul. How did he know about the map? Cold comprehension flooded over him in an instant as he realized he was no longer holding the map. He had not been able to put it back into his box.

     “Where is it?” he demanded.