Sand, there was sand as far as the eye could see; nothing else but the sun. A black ship listed heavily on its side, the dark sails open, hoping to catch an imaginary wind. A man stood solemnly next to the ship. A small breeze whipped through the desolate place, blowing bits of sand into the man's face and making his red bandana flutter behind him. But he was numb to it. His dark hair was matted into dreadlocks, various trinkets and beads braided through it.
He wore a thin white shirt, a dark vest, blue pants, boots, and a long navy blue coat. The sun beat relentlessly down on the man, but he felt no heat. He could feel nothing; no hunger, no thirst, nothing but the confusing array of emotions inside of him. The was anger and betrayal, hurt, and something he had never felt before, something that caused his non-beating heart to ache with a longing he could not place.
He grabbed a rope that hung loosely by the ships side and climbed up on to the deck. He surveyed to dark ship, nothing had changed; the great beast that had dragged his precious ship to the depths and torn it in two. But, here it was, in perfect condition. His eyes were drawn to one particular part of the ship. The main mast.
Since arriving at this god-forsaken place, he'd had nothing to do but explore his ship. That one place though, had been completely avoided. To any other person, that spot would not have seemed significant. But to him, it was the cause of all his feelings. On one side of the mast, attached to a bar, was a pair of shackles.
He stood there, staring at the mast for what seemed like hour to him. Time didn't exist here. There was no night; day would continue on and on, never stopping. He walked up to the helm, lightly placing his hands on the wheel. He hummed a song a girl no older than eighteen once taught him. On a deserted Island, during an adventure that felt like a lifetime ago. Which, in a way, it was; seeing as he was dead.
The man remembered the day he met the girl. She'd fainted from the corset that caged her ribs and fell into the ocean, high from a tower of the fort. He'd jumped into the warm ocean to save her, only to be threatened by the commodore of the post city. From that moment on, his life had changed; leading to his most recent, and deadly, adventure.
Thinking of the girl dancing around the giant bonfire made him suddenly realize the strange feeling that had been plaguing him since he'd been here. Love. He'd fallen in love with the girl, the one that taught him the song of the pirates, and who had chained him to the mast of his ship, condemning him to death. Jack Sparrow stopped singing. There wasn't a sound aboard the ship, save for the ominous clanking of shackles against the Black Pearl's main mast.