NOTE: This is the second in my "Pirates of the Caribbean" stories. If you haven't read my first one, "At World's End", you may want to do so just in case.
Pirates of the Caribbean: The Bermudan Treasure
Two years have passed since Jack's father was rescued from World's End. Jack and his father now command the Black Pearl II while Will & Elizabeth are happily married in Port Royal. Everything seems perfect.
But when Jack and his crew come into possession of a mysterious treasure map, an old acquaintance informs Jack that it's a map to find the mystical treasure of the Bermuda Triangle. The legend of the triangle is well known; every pirate ship that sails into it disappears. The treasure of the triangle is said to have been compiled by the three women gods who created the triangle as a symbol of how powerful feminism can be. The old belief that a woman is a bad luck omen when on a pirate ship turns out to be a misconstrued fact as legend says the presence of a woman aboard a ship is the key to sailing through the triangle's threshold unharmed. Having discovered all this, Jack sets out to find the closest woman friend he has: Elizabeth Turner.(next)
Jack eventually persuades Will & Elizabeth to accompany him to the triangle. However, when they reach the triangle, our fellow pirates make a shocking discovery. That discovery being that the triangle is actually a prison for the fools who have attempted to sail into the triangle. What's more is that the prison is headed over by a merciless shape-shifting pirate crew who have sworn to protect the treasure. And the captain of the crew is none other than the bloodthirsty Blackbeard.
Now, Jack, Will & Elizabeth must find a way to free the prisoners and obtain the treasure before time runs out for not only the prisoners...but for them as well.
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Chapter 1
Night had fallen over the shallow waters of Bermuda. Everything had turned dead still and ominously quiet. To add to the eerie quality, a pirate ship cut through the still, blackened waters. Lanterns located at different intervals of the ship provided a small, iridescent glow that lighted the portions of ocean that were visible around it. The ship was almost like a ghost ship that had escaped the bowels of hell and was coming to fulfill a certain destiny that had yet to be settled. At the top of the Crow's Nest, a lookout peered through a lens, his eyes trying to penetrate the thick curtain of blackness. Beside him, a flag whipped in the strong wind. Even against the backdrop of pure darkness, the symbol etched on the center of it was clearly visible: a skull and crossbones. This was a pirate ship, and it was currently on a mission. A mission, that if gone wrong, could prove to be fatal.
On deck, not a single sound broke the silence. Except for a gruff voice. That voice belonged to a drunken pirate, who was singing to himself in a low monotone.
"Yo ho, yo ho and a bottle of rum. Fifteen men on a dead man's chest. Drink up me hearties, yo ho. Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me."
The drunk stumbled across the deck and came to a halt in front of the ship's railing. He then produced a small canteen from his pocket and took a long swig of rum. He closed his eyes, reveling in its bitter taste.
"Sailor," a curt voice pierced the silence behind the drunk, "don't you have a position to fill?"
The drunk turned to face his captain. The captain of this vessel was a man who was able to command presence wherever he went. He sported the regular hat, coat, sword, etc. that any captain who sailed the seven seas knew was appropriate attire.
"Aye, Captain," the drunk slurred in response, "but given my current condition, I'm afraid that I'm not of much use."
The captain eyed the canteen clutched between the drunk's fingers and nodded in understanding. "On your way."
The drunk nodded and slunk below deck.
The captain watched the drunk until he had disappeared below deck. Confident that he and his first mate wouldn't be disturbed, pulled a folded piece of parchment from his inside jacket pocket and walked over to a lantern. His first mate followed.
The captain held up the paper, which was a map, to the lantern. The lantern gave off an eerie yellow-orange glow that added to the strong sense of foreboding.
As the captain was examining the map, a question popped into the first mate's head.
"Captain, are you sure that this information is accurate?"
The captain lowered the map in exasperation, his concentration broken. "I personally saw the original map when I snuck into McGivens' personal quarters and etched this exact copy. Fortunately, I was able to finish before his men found me. So, yes, I am confident in this information."
"Do you think McGivens will send any of his mercenaries after us?"
The captain shrugged off the question. "Please. McGivens is too busy trying to capture the real thief who attempted to steal the map in the first place. You needn't worry. We're in the clear."
"I just hope you're right."
The captain smirked as he once again busied himself with scrutinizing the map. He looked up. "Ah. If the coordinates are correct, then we should be here."
The first mate glanced in the direction his captain was looking and was only able to stare in awe at what met his eyes.
Ahead of them was a thick mile-high wall of dense, gray fog. It seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, and within seconds, the ship had crossed its threshold. Once the ship was fully inside the mist, a sudden strong gush of wind blew out every lantern onboard, shrouding the ship in total darkness. Nothing was visible at all.
The captain tucked the map away and peered over the railing. All he could see was the fog and nothing else. He then called up to the lookout in the Crow's Nest.
"Can you see anything?"
"No, sir," the lookout called back. "Not through this unnatural fog."
"The Bermuda Triangle," the first mate breathed in fear.
"Or The Devil's Triangle as it's most commonly referred to among others. Many ships have sailed into it, but none have returned. So the legend is real."
"You think we'll disappear?"
The captain paused before answering. "No."
All of a sudden, the lanterns flickered back on as the fog evaporated into thin air. Once again, the black waters and gloomy sky was visible. The first mate glanced around curiously.
"Spooky," he commented.
"Indeed," the captain agreed.
Out of the night, a low rumbling sound rang out. The lookout in the Crow's Nest aimed his scope in the direction of the noise and paled considerably at what he saw.
"CANNONFIRE!"
Not a split second after the warning was shouted, the Crow's Nest suddenly exploded in a ball of orange fire as a cannonball impacted against it. Pieces of broken and splintered wood began started to rain down on the deck.
Even more rumbling noises sounded, followed by more cannonballs shattering the pieces of the ship that they collided with. Loud explosions ringed in the crew's ears as the chaos continued on.
"Run out the guns!"
Unfortunately, the captain's orders went unheard over the deafening attack. The madness continued on for a few more moments. All of a sudden, though, it stopped.
Curious, yet cautious, everyone who had scrambled on deck during the torrent of explosions slowly lifted themselves to their feet, taking in the true extent of all the damage.
"Is it over," the first mate asked.
The instant the words had left his mouth, many monstrous creatures appeared out of thin air. They wasted no time in plunging the swords they clutched into the chests of different crewmen. Cries of anguish and pain replaced the loud booming of cannonballs. After about six members of the crew had been killed, the creatures slid their swords back into their hilts. Their bodies then shook, and right before the crew's eyes, the creatures slowly morphed into humans. The newly formed humans were pirates without a doubt, their vicious and bloodthirsty appearances giving them away.
Suddenly, a huge figure materialized at the center of the deck. This man was obviously the captain of the crew. The pirate was bedecked in obvious pirate attire, everything he wore battered and almost close to rags. But nonetheless, upon first glance, any man, woman or child who crossed paths with this savage knew that he was someone whom you did not want to cross. This man was none other than the notorious Edward "Blackbeard" Teach. The most feared pirate ever to sail the seven seas. And at the moment, if someone were to look directly into his eyes, that person might have fallen over dead immediately.
Blackbeard's second-in-command approached him. "Seven still alive. The rest have moved on."
Blackbeard turned to his first mate and growled, "You know what to do with the survivors."
The second-in-command nodded and walked over to his men, who were currently holding the survivors of the attack hostage.
"Take them ashore," he ordered.
As the pirates bounded the crew's hands behind their backs, a brave soul shook off his captor and broke out at a run for the railing. Seeing this, Blackbeard lazily pulled out his pistol, cocked the hammer, aimed at the escapee, and pulled the trigger. The crew member immediately fell to the deck, lifeless. Blackbeard then replaced his pistol.
"Shame that," he commented.
Other members of his crew laughed maliciously as one of them disposed of the body by dumping it into the ocean.
"Any other objections," Blackbeard addressed the captive crew. None of them uttered a word. "Very well." Blackbeard nodded to his men and they evaporated into thin air, along with their prisoners. Blackbeard lingered for a bit, however, and gazed out at the blackened sea. He smiled to himself. The treasure of the Bermuda Triangle still lay protected.