Chapter I
"Welcome to the crew!"
The Flying Dutchman had overtaken another unfortunate vessel. No survivors were taken. At least, that was the order the fearsome captain of the ship gave. But one of the opposing pirates had been taken prisoner.
Davy Jones came up onto the deck as two of his crew brought a struggling figure forward. It was covered in blood, and Jones couldn't make it out well.
The first crewmember took hold of the figure's hair, which was undistinguishable between light brown or blond, and pulled up, revealing the pirate's face. All were taken by surprise. A young girl stared right up at the captain. Her eyes were fiery, like blue flames, and wild and savage. Her mouth was smeared with blood and her neck was bleeding.
The young female pirate's eyes went wide as she saw who her captor was. Fear flooded into her face, but Jones could tell she was no coward. One of the crewmembers had brought him her sword. It was a long broadsword, very unusual. He had one himself, though he seldom used it. By the look of the girl's sword, he could tell she was skilled with it.
Jones nodded to the two crewmembers, "Lock her below. I'll deal with her later."
Both grinned eagerly, pushing the young girl along. They could get some fun out of her!
Jones was a bit surprised at himself. Why keep a girl as a captive? She would be no use to him. But something in her eyes…she had a fire, a true warrior spirit. He could get some work out of her. And he loved breaking hard spirits.
Bree sat, hugging her knees to her chest. She prided herself on being brave, but anyone would be terrified out of their wits if they were the prisoner of the dreaded Davy Jones! She felt tears running down her bloodied cheeks. All her crewmates…dead. Her ship…splintered on the rocks. Her captain…she shuddered, remembering how the Dutchman's crew had dealt with him. "Time to feed the fishes!" one had said, licking his blade.
Bree's head shot up like a frightened doe as the door to the brig slammed open. She heard footsteps. Unnatural footsteps. By the sound she could tell one leg was made of wood or bone. Then the figure came into view. Bree shuddered as she looked upon Davy Jones. When she had first seen him she had blood clogging her vision. Now she could see him clearly.
Bree scooted back as far as she could. Jones opened her cell, grinning down at her as his beard of tentacles moved with a life of their own. Bree tried looking him in the eyes, but the pale blue depths were so harsh and cruel that she couldn't hold it for long.
Bree felt her spine prickle as Jones' harsh voice broke the semi-silence, "So, a girl pirate, eh? Brave, little one, brave. But this is no place for someone like ye."
Bree summoned up her courage and growled out, "Then why don't ye let me go? Or at least kill me!"
Jones laughed, and the sound made Bree's marrow freeze. He then spoke again, "My crew says ye fought hard. We could always use a good, strong young'un like yerself. Why not join us? Otherwise, it's fishfood for ye."
Bree gave an involuntary gasp. She didn't want the fate of her own captain. She shook with terror, trying to stay calm, but panic was making her dizzy. She forced herself to look up again, saying boldly, "Go ahead an' kill me, fishface! I ain't afraid o' death, an' I ain't afraid o' ye!"
Bree was slammed against the wall as Jones gripped her throat with his left hand, which was simply a large claw. He tightened his grip, and Bree couldn't breath. She began clawing at her throat, trying to release herself, but it did no good. Even when she angled her head down and bit into the claw it did no good. Her teeth simply scraped the coarse shell.
Jones laughed again, clearly enjoying this. He spoke once again, calm and almost friendly, "Ye've a strong spirit, lass. T'would be a pity to kill such a fine young'un. Why not sail on my ship? The very mention of this crew makes the bravest go pale! I can tell ye're a savage young thing. Ye may not fear death, but ye fear what follows it, aye?"
Bree tried to swallow, but she couldn't. She then tried to say something, and Jones released her. Bree rubbed at her throat, gulping in air. Then she snarled, "Kill me! I'll be nothin' but trouble fer ye! I swear me oath on that!"
Jones grinned again, his eyes fierce. He then stepped forward, gripping her right sleeve and ripping it. He then pressed his hand to her skin, and Bree shuddered as the slime covered her shoulder. When Jones backed away, Bree looked at her shoulder.
"All yer mates bear this mark as well, missy," Jones said, and Bree watched in horror as a black mark, like a brand, formed on her shoulder. She was doomed!
Jones grinned wickedly, "Welcome to the crew."
Bree gave out a terrible howl of rage and she charged forward, slamming into Jones, but he was like a rock, never even budging. Bree dodged around him and suddenly grabbed the hilt of his broadsword, pulling it from his belt. The scabbard and hilt were crusted with barnacles, and she had to tug hard to remove the blade. But when she did, she rammed it into Jones' chest. The blade went all the way through the great captain, the point sticking out of his back…but nothing happened. Bree released the sword hilt, stepping back, waiting for him to fall. But he didn't. He simply watched her smugly.
Bree stared in horror at Jones. He gripped the sword hilt, drawing the blade out of himself with a sickening squelch, snarling, "Have ye learned nothin', whelp?"
Bree didn't wait for anything after that. She bolted for the open door, tearing up to the deck and trying to get over the side. She felt something slam into her and she was hurled sideways as about three of the crewmembers piled onto her, holding her down. She fought viciously, and they had a hard time keeping her still, but at last, she stopped, panting and sobbing for breath as blood ran down into her eyes.
Davy Jones came up, standing over her, shaking his head scornfully. "Impressive, but foolish." Then he said, "What's yer name?"
Bree angled her head up as straight as she could get it, and then gasped out, "Bree…"
Jones nodded, then motioned to the others. Bree was hauled roughly up by her hair. Jones beckoned the bosun forward, saying, "She gets a floggin'. Fine way to break her in, aye?"
The bosun grinned, eager to do so. Bree snarled after the captain, "I won't be on this ship forever, ye hear me? Ye can't keep Bree in a place she don't want to stay!"
Jones grinned as he turned, retorting, "Oh, I assure ye, missy. I can. Without me, the sea is nothing. Ye live in my world. Ye live by my rules. I can do what I like with ye."
The bosun uncoiled his whip from around his waist, signaling to two crewmen. They tied Bree to the grating, removing her jerkin. The bosun grinned, bringing his arm back and giving a hard flick. The crack was heard across the water, but no scream followed.
Three dozen might have killed a girl, but Bree stood strong, never even making a noise. This disappointed the onlookers, but they had some fun out of it by throwing salty seawater onto Bree's raw back. Bree felt the salt burn her fresh cuts, and she pressed her teeth to her bonds, trying to keep back the tears.
Bree lay on the deck, rainwater soaking her bloodied back as she tried to sleep. She didn't care if she died out here. Better to die than serve on this ship!
But Bree found no rest. She was hauled up, and was whirled around. A half man half shark gripped her, grinning at her. He called out, "Cap'n! She's still alive!"
Jones came over, his broadsword back in its sheath, "I should hope so." He looked closely at Bree. His eyes rested on a medallion hanging about her neck. He motioned towards it, asking, "What is that, missy?"
Bree gripped the medallion, hissing, "Nothin'!"
Jones smiled cruelly. He reached forward, took hold of the medallion and ripped it from Bree's neck. Bree gave out a cry, lunging forward, but the shark creature yanked her back. Bree began pleading with her new captain, "Please! That was my mother's! It's all I have left of her!"
Jones fingered the medallion, inspecting it. He grinned, tucking it into his shirt, saying, "I might as well take it off yer hands. Ye won't need it."
Bree felt tears budding in her eyes. She growled angrily, "I swear I'll kill ye!"
Jones laughed hard, and those within earshot laughed as well. No one had ever been so defiant, but Bree stood no chance against Davy Jones.
Jones then thought up something, another way to torment the poor girl. He took the medallion and turned to his crew, beckoning them forward. He pulled Bree forward, holding her by the throat and whispering, "We'll see how much this is really worth."
The captain tossed the small necklace up into the air, and a scramble for it ensued. Biting, kicking and punching, the crew struggled to get the piece of jewelry. The bosun was the one who ended up with the medallion. He grinned wickedly, looping the chain around his neck. He walked up to Bree, hissing in her face, "Nice li'l trinket, eh?"
Bree lunged forward, sinking her teeth into his neck, slime coating her mouth. The bosun roared in pain, and Jones grabbed Bree, squeezing her so hard that the girl started to vomit up blood.
Bree was thrown to the deck, a foot placed on her throat. She writhed weakly, blood loss causing her to feel faint and dizzy. She looked up with dim eyes at the sadistic captain. She bared her teeth, hissing, "Don't think ye've won!"
Jones hauled the girl up, growling at her, "Ye can't win, missy. Ye're a defenseless maid, an' only by my protection can ye live!"
Bree laughed in his face, saying harshly, "So I'm to believe that ye'll protect me?"
Jones whirled her around to face the crew, "From them!"
Bree kept struggling, growling, "Go ahead an' let 'em try it! I ain't afraid!"
The bosun made a strange noise in his throat, saying, "She can't work alongside us, Cap'n. She's too weak an'…"
He was cut short as a vicious snarl split the air. Bree sprang forward, only to be restrained by Jones again. But the bosun leaped back, fear in his eyes. Bree snarled, "I can outwork an' outfight any of ye!"
Jones laughed harshly, calling to his crew, "Well, boys, ye've a new crewmate!"
The crew cheered, but it was a sadistic, cruel cheer, that of a group of monsters waiting for a moment to torment their new 'mate'.
Bree was flung forward into the crowd, where her new mates began shoving her in the direction of the hold. Bree felt the tears forming on her eyelashes. She wished she had been turned into fishbait now.
In the hold, the crew had at first had their share of fun with Bree, pushing and knocking her about, ridiculing her and using her for all sorts of sadistic jokes and pranks. Bree now lay in her hammock in the corner, blood crusting her mouth. She tried to sleep, to die, anything to escape! Tears and slime caked her cheeks, her hair hanging limply over her dimmed eyes.
Suddenly, a loud, booming type of music began to play, reverberating all along the ship. She jumped out of the hammock, startled. She had never heard anything like it before! She gasped, "What is that?"
Maccus, the shark pirate, grinned, enjoying her bewilderment, "Cap'n's playin' agin. 'Aven't ye ever heard organs afore, girl?"
Bree still stood there, shaking her head. Another of the crew spoke in a mock voice, "Ain't it a pretty tune?" He laughed along with the others.
Bree listened. She thought it was a pretty tune. It was strangely haunting, sad and wistful, but powerful. She was surprised that someone like Jones would play a song like that, let alone be that skilled in music.
Bree sat back down, listening to the song. It comforted her in a way, but it also made her sad. She actually felt a tear budding in her right eye. No, it wasn't the music! It was the fact that all her old mates were dead and her ship, the Goresail, wrecked upon the rocks. And now she was a captive to the pirate who bested the devil himself. She was exhausted. She lay down, letting the sound of the organ drown out the voices of her crewmates as she drifted off into a fitful slumber.