A story I wrote for Adult fanfiction a long time ago. Unfinished as of now, but please enjoy. It was written before the fourth movie and is an alternate storyline following the first trilogy. It's pretty old, so I may go back and resolve some issues when I have time.

Pirates of the Caribbean and its characters are property of Walt Disney Company. This story is non-profit.

She was as beautiful as a fresh Winter morning.

It was no wonder the crew of the Black Pearl slowly ceased their work as the voice of a fallen angel gently rose from the darkness of the night. It was no wonder they tentatively scuttled to the starboard side to lean over the fine, ebony wood to look out over the black abyss, their eyes lighting up in hope. It was no wonder that, for a brief moment, they all forgot their own names, why they were there, all of their troubles. The voice was everything. The voice was the lonely pain they had each harboured for years and years.

It was the lump in your throat. It was sweeping, horrific realisations. It was the unnoticed tear when you were alone. They could relate to this tragic song, they were pirates. But who could be singing so gently to them in the middle of stormy waves? What woman, aside from Calypso herself, could become one with the sea?

A tiny island jutted out of the water. A once proud rock that had been worn down over the years by storm after storm, wave after wave, until only this insignificant, sorry mass remained. But it was singing. Somebody was lighting it up, a beacon in the dark night. A woman.

Her skin was frost. The hair that tumbled over her glowing shoulders was blacker than the Pearl's sails. Those hands - those soft, nimble hands - were combing through it slowly as the woman gazed at the boat with half-lidded eyes. Perhaps it was the shock of seeing a lady sat in the middle of the ocean, but the fact she had a fish's tail in place of legs came as no surprise to the crew. It was long, elegant, and sparkled softly as if covered in tiny emeralds. The way she idly slapped the translucent fins against the stone was an atrocity to say the least.

The men just stared in awe as she continued to sing. Their presence was not enough to end her beautiful, tormented song that could bring the stars to their knees. Some reached out dumbly into the night, longing to touch that icy flesh, that silken hair.

An intimating thumping, loud and out of rhythm with the lady's voice, vaguely disturbed the crew's loving trance. The shadowy captain of the Black Pearl, Barbossa, had heard the lady's voice whilst sat in his quarters, though refused to believe it existed until it the god-forsaken noise refused to end. He scanned the crew. His eyes, the colour of seawater, surveyed them with no emotion, until he took it upon himself to throw various men out of the way so he could see what the attraction was for himself.

Barbossa had seen his own share of other-worldy beings. He was one himself, once. Despite the beauty of the lady on the rock, she did not interest him in the slightest. These creatures had hearts blacker than his own. Her snow-white skin, tail of emeralds and heavenly voice did nothing, for Barbossa knew not to place total trust in any individual, let alone servants of the manipulative sea goddess, Calypso.

"What are yeh all lookin' at?" he bellowed, quickly spinning to face his crew. "One of ye get to the wheel before we're crashin' into these stone claws. She en't nothin' but a sea harpy. Back to work you dribblin' pack o' mutts!"

The captain blindly aimed his pistol at the rock and shot. He turned back at the lack of a scream. The lady was gone, and only a large chip in the face of the stone took her place.

"Th- that's bad luck," Ragetti nervously pointed out, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. When Barbossa slowly faced him with clear murderous intent, Pintel, Ragetti's uncle, quickly slapped his nephew about the head with a wide grin in the captain's direction.

"Sorry, cap'n, she bewitched him is all," he rasped, nodding fervently.

Barbossa rolled his eyes and looked to the stars for a moment. They were quickly becoming blotted out by stark, grey clouds.

"Mermaids be wicked creatures," he growled, waving his pistol in Ragetti's direction threateningly before doing the same to the rest of his crew. "Their sole purpose is to lure downtrodden, mangy men such as yerselves into the rocks to drown. Now block yer ears to that god-forsaken singing and get back to yer posts!" The last command was shouted so loudly the whole crew flinched backwards in shock. Or at least, that's what Barbossa thought until turning to scour the waves for the mermaid.

He met eyes that were deadened, black orbs.

She was balanced on the edge of his ship using only her clawed hands. Her hair, now soaking and swept back in a tangled black mess, revealed pointed ears and the sallow light green of her flesh. The creature's mouth slowly opened, revealing horrifically sharp, shark-like teeth crammed into her mouth in rows, though they only partially hid her long, black tongue.

"I said it was bad luck!" Ragetti said, grabbing his uncle's coat in fear.

Barbossa didn't move. He just stared at the sea-woman, his dark gaze daring her to act out her clear intentions. But the mermaid just hissed lightly and somehow reached a long, green arm out to him.

"Barbossa ..." she whispered, black eyes forming a squint as she smiled with the demeanour of a demon. Despite his resolve, the mention of his name made the captain take a curious, involuntary step forwards. A slippery hand clumsily touched his cheek and drew down his neck, his chest and eventually reached his thigh, before he grabbed her skinny wrist and forced her hand to his face again.

"Clearly ye like the feelin' of a warm-blooded mammal," he snarled. "Careful where ye put those claws or I may be makin' a profit off yer fine mermaid hand. What is it ye be wantin' from us?"

Once again, the mermaid's hand made its way to his bad leg, where it clenched firmly at the muscle. If the Pearl's crew weren't so dazed by her presence they would be nudging each other, chortling like idiotic teenage boys. They only watched, however, as confused at her actions as the captain was.

"Aside from that," Barbossa grunted, making to remove her hand. Before he could, the lady balanced on the edge of the ship on her strong stomach, placing her free hand on his other thigh. She lowered her serpentine head, smiling, light hisses and clicks emitting from that horrible mouth. As she grew level with his hips, she released a sigh that sounded so terribly human that for a split second Barbossa wasn't sure where he was - he certainly wasn't freezing on the Pearl in the middle of the ocean - though her icy touch and fangs did the opposite of seduce him.

"Amante ..." she whispered, her head tilting. "Tócame ... por favor ..."

Captain Barbossa grabbed the mermaid by the throat. She immediately released his legs and clawed at his leather-bound hands savagely, dragging her nails through flesh, but he didn't care. "In yer dreams, wench," he said loudly, giving her a violent shake. "Yeh en't gettin' anywhere and ne'r will. Yer brain rivals that of a dead fish."

Suddenly, the mermaid smiled, flashing her horrific, mottled teeth. "La oscuridad está cerca!" she hissed with the venom of a snake. Darkness is near. She raised her fingers to her lips and slowly licked his blood from them, moaning and clicking softly. This creature, this foul, mindless being, was surely a personification of Calypso's lust, though why the thing had chosen his ship to bother was a mystery.

Barbossa prepared to throw the creature back into the ocean. Before he could, however, an acrid smell met his nose. He sniffed and abruptly looked at his crew to see if they too could sense the burning sensation in their nostrils. It appeared they could. He turned back to the mermaid and eyed her suspiciously.

"What are ye doin'?" he asked her, as if she were secreting the disturbing smell. Despite her invisible pupils, the lady seemed to look at him, removing her hand from her chest to point upwards. The grey clouds had thickened considerably. In fact, they weren't clouds at all - they were far too low and had previously been shaped as if rising from the ocean. Now, the smoke surrounded them, hazing their vision and rendering even the mermaid's rock invisible. What could possibly be on fire? Had they drifted past a pillaged Navy vessel? An underwater volcano?

The stench was disgusting. The fire causing it was not a normal fire at all.

Barbossa released the mermaid's throat as a warning instinct kicked in. The Black Pearl was not alone, and she hadn't been for a while. He stood still for a moment, breathing heavily, before turning to face the port side. Indeed, a vessel was sailing right next to them. How in the name of Teague had nobody seen it? Was everybody so distracted by that damn mermaid -

And then he realised something that made even his blood suddenly turn cold in his veins.

The beast of a ship was the same size as his Pearl. Rather than the sails being ebony black, they were blood red, and the front of the ship sported a skeleton rather than an angel. Fires in huge braziers dotted around the ship were the clear cause of the acrid fog surrounding them. Various drapes and curtains were strewn across her in a slightly morose fashion, yet they made her extremely recognisable. It was a pirate vessel, of course, but not an ordinary one. This was the Queen Anne's Revenge.

This was the ship of Blackbeard. And they hadn't even seen him coming.

"S-sorry cap'n," somebody murmured, sounding horrified.

No ship matched the Black Pearl for speed. Of course, that was if the crew was actually operating it. Barbossa strode forwards, shoving several worthless cretins out of his way as he tried to get an idea of Blackbeard's intentions. There were no signs of what the Revenge was going to do. Surely it wouldn't attack a ship that clearly had its back turned, even if it was Blackbeard, perhaps the most ruthless pirate upon the seas.

"Load cannons," Barbossa muttered. Jack the monkey scampered out of nowhere and onto his shoulder. When none of the crew moved, he span around in anger, drew his sword and waved it expertly in front of him. "Load the bleedin' cannons you sacks of dog filth! We en't standin' 'ere starin' them to death! Show 'em what the Pearl is made of!"

As soon as he had begun bellowing, the crew were immediately running to their posts, particularly to the cannons above and below deck. Barbossa stomped across the deck towards the wheel. Before he could climb the steps, however, an agonising pain in his bad leg forced him to stop. The damn mermaid had slithered onto deck and bitten heavily into his calf muscle, sucking at his blood in clear delight and clawing at his thigh. He attempted to drive his sword through her back, only to have her dodge and slam her powerful tail into the back of his knees. The captain crashed to the deck, yelling curses and foul words in her direction.

The Queen Anne's Revenge had made her intentions clear. The first load of shots had already been fired. Great pieces of wood and metal were soaring over the crew's heads as they hurried to prepare their own cannons. The constant smoke however made their eyes sting and water mercilessly, making it even harder to find the components in the darkness.

Barbossa was wrestling with the mermaid as she writhed on top of him, bearing her savage, bloodied teeth and snake-like tongue. His ship was quickly moving into an undesirable position.

"Will somebody take the bloody wheel!" he yelled as the mermaid raked his flesh with her nails and teeth. She was much stronger than she looked, and soon managed to wrap herself around him with her slimy tail, pinning him to the deck. Barbossa struggled within her tight grip as she hung triumphantly above his head. "Fire! Fire what you've done! Destroy 'em! Get to work!" The last command was aimed at a young lad who had realised the captain's plight and was uselessly hitting at the mermaid with a piece of wooden shrapnel.

Immediately, the Pearl's cannons flashed and Barbossa revelled in the sound of the Revenge taking hard hits. However, the Pearl was being thrown around in strengthening waves and out of range. Mr Cotton dived onto the helm and pulled at the wheel with all his strength, biding them some valuable time.

Barbossa still couldn't move beneath the mermaid. He roared at her, tried to punch her away, but her strength was too great for fists alone. "Fire!" Her hands ran down his chest as she lowered her face. "Load 'em up, give 'em everything!" Her teeth grazed his throat and she even dared a small bite on his shoulder. "Fire!" Barbossa fumbled for his pistol. As soon as the handle met his hands he slammed it into the sea-witch's stomach, causing her to shriek and loosen her hold for a split second. He rolled away from her and somehow managed to pin her beneath one of his knees.

"Are ye workin' for Blackbeard?" Barbossa shouted, crushing his knee into the small of her back. "Ye distract the crew whilst he creeps up behind 'em?"

The mermaid laughed. It sounded like the hollow gurgling of water as it slapped against a cliff face. She twisted her neck in order to face the captain and grinned with more sadism than even he could muster.

"I be takin' that fer a yes." He shot her in the spine.

The seemingly invisible crew of the Queen Anne's Revenge were not preparing to board. Their cannons were shooting relentlessly now, blasting mighty holes into the body of the Pearl. What did they want from Barbossa? Was Blackbeard after his title of Lord of the Caspian Sea? Did he want the Pearl for himself? Either did not seem probable for the only clear intention of the Revenge was to destroy her sister ship as quickly as possible.

Blackbeard's ship had its own fair amount of damage. The fire braziers had long been knocked into the elaborate drapes, setting them ablaze, and a large section of the sails were on fire. The Pearl was losing, however. Her mast was sweeping the night sky with slow rocks. If the mast went down, they would be stuck here for a good long time.

Barbossa pounced onto the wheel and managed to heave his great ship into a better position.

"Fire!" he bellowed, aiming his pistol at the Revenge's helm with as much precision as he could muster. Before he could take that critical shot, he was suddenly blinded by a furious flash of orange. The crew on the deck of the Pearl screamed and fell to the wood, some rolling as flames engulfed their clothes. The tattered black sails of his ship had been set alight. The flames climbed upwards, swallowing every rope, engulfing the mast with a heavy roar. "No!" Barbossa gasped, eyes wide. A long dormant sensation creeped into his bleeding chest.

Fear. His ship was getting destroyed. They were all going to die a dishonourable death brought on by Blackbeard's cowardly tactics.

"Sir!" One crew member staggered up the steps to the helm. A jagged piece of wood was sticking out of his shoulder. "They're killin' us! We need orders!"

"I can bloody see that!" shouted Barbossa, grabbing a stray bottle of rum. He pulled out the cork with his teeth, quickly stuck a filthy rag into its throat and set it alight with a candle. With a careful aim, he tossed the crude bomb at the mast of the Revenge and succeeded in setting alight a bundle of ropes tied to it. "Listen to me yeh worthless pack of flea-bitten scoundrels! Take the longboats and abandon ship if ye must!"

Bewildered pairs of eyes blinked at him from below. He rolled his own, but didn't shout at them, for the very concept of abandoning this ship made even him feel numb. The Pearl was everything. The Pearl was his. Now she was being obliterated for an unknown reason by a man without the courage to board and fight.

Barbossa didn't move from the wheel. Obviously, once his ship went down he was going down with it, no question. The crew seemed to realise this and looked at each other urgently.

Another load of cannon balls slammed into the vessel. A large section of the deck gave way with a horrible groan, causing several men to fall into her belly with pained screams. Nobody went near the longboats.

Rain fell from the blotted out night like watery needles, slamming cruelly into the skin of the men as they continued to load the cannons. They dived boldly around the soaking deck despite it becoming near impossible to see through the thick smoke and brewing storm. It seemed Calypso was unleashing her rage upon the battle. Barbossa wondered why she seemed to be on Blackbeard's side after everything he had done for her - the rain was not heavy enough to put out the huge flame burning the mast to ashes, and the waves were just pushing the Revenge closer and closer into range. In his mind he cursed her, the heathen, trickster goddess of the seas, whom he had served loyally, obeyed without question -

Pain. Barbossa buckled against the wheel as sharp teeth once again sank into his leg. He kicked wildly at whatever was shredding his flesh, and unsheathed his sword.

"Yeh bitch!" the captain roared as the mermaid dragged him off his feet. The shot from his pistol had hindered her tail alone, not her arms, leaving her free to attack him still. Her mouth, which had appeared so beautiful from a distance, was now full of his clotted blood which dripped heavily down her chin. She darted side to side to avoid his fierce strikes and eventually managed to claw her way up his body so she could scream into his own blood-soaked face. Barbossa rolled over so she was beneath him, squeezed her between his knees and prepared to unsheathe his sword to finish the witch off, but her smirk managed to halt his arm. In one of her hands was a bomb. It was his; she must have fished it out of one of his pockets. It was lit.

Barbossa forgot trying to kill her. He tried to stand to dive off the helm but he could only struggle within her strong grasp. Rabid thoughts raced wildly in his head - would this hurt? Would it be worse than his first death? Why wouldn't she allow him to die with some honour?

Despite her claws and teeth, Barbossa managed to wrench his upper half from her relentless hold and slash her throat with his sword. Immediately he was released as green blood bubbled and spurted from the wound, choking the mermaid enough to make her writhe in desperation. He rolled onto his feet and made for the steps.

But he was too late.

The captain was thrown forwards before he even heard the explosion. The bannister collided with his gut and he tumbled down the steps as they fell to the deck in pieces, also flying forwards from the blast. Everything was on fire. The ship, the sails, Barbossa. He slammed to the soaking wood below and curled into a ball - partly to protect himself from the sharp remains of the helm and partly because the pain was so great he could do nothing else - before vocalising his outrage. Blood and water blinded him. The almighty pain in his leg dulled the sound of the blows the Pearl was still taking.

Pintel dropped to the deck and rolled to put out the fire on his coat, yelling uselessly at Ragetti who was doing his best to load another cannon with shaking hands. The former also curled into a ball as the explosion at the helm rocked the entire ship.

"Captain!" he yelled, watching the shadowy figure get violently blown down the steps to the floor. The captain's quarters collapsed and huge shards were sent flying out to kill several members of the crew dead. "Barbossa! Captain down! Captain down!"

The man dragged himself to where Barbossa was sprawled. Heavy chunks of the ship were pinning the captain to where he was but he didn't seem to care as one of his legs was jerking involuntarily from the severe injury it had sustained. It was nothing but a burnt, bloodied mass, the flesh shredded enough to reveal a broken shin bone. Pintel retched at the sight but managed to swallow the contents of his stomach back down.

"Sir," he gasped, trying to push the wooden obstructions away, to no avail. Barbossa's agonised eyes locked onto his crew member's for a moment. One arm shot out to grab pintel by his collar.

"Get ye to a longboat yeh sorry lump o' filth," Barbossa hissed, shaking the man roughly. "Take who ye can."

Pintel lingered reluctantly for a moment before scampering away to yell his orders to the surviving crew members. The feared and near-indestructable Black Pearl had finally reached the end of her life, as had her captain. Barbossa raised one of his hands to his face morosely, imagining it was rotting and skeletal as it had been when he was cursed. Cursed, but immortal. He clenched it and watched blood gather between his gnarled fingers.

Before him, the mast burnt ferociously. The ship, his most treasured possession - no, friend - was to meet its end by fire. Barbossa could only hope the fires of Hell would be less painful to see.