Disclaimer: I do not own POTC or its characters. In this chapter I do own the plot of this story, Desirae, Jonathan, and the unnamed ship and its crew. Please, no flame, but I'm open for criticism. Thanks!

Other Genres: romance, angst, suspense, drama, supernatural, adventure

~*~*~Chapter #1~*~*~

Thunder boomed, and lightning cracked, striking the raging waters in various places. Monstrous waves moved up and down in large hills of dark liquid, reseeding down once more to cause other smaller but equally as powerful waves as an aftershock. The wind whistled loudly, blowing the pouring rain in all directions. And, in all the chaos, a lone ship was attempting to sail through the storm, her sails flapping in the angry winds. On deck, the crew was scurrying around like a bunch of ants, shouting back and forth to each other and rushing to fill out the orders their captain gave to them from the helm.

"Secure those sails! Arnolds, help Mr. Smith with those ropes! Don't let that powder get wet!"

Numerous "aye Captains" could be heard all around the ship, and the Captain squinted at something through the rain. His eyes widened when he realized what it was.

"Secure the main topgallant, Miss Storms!"

Over near the ship's rail, a young woman looked up towards the sail, her dark, wet hair sticking to her face. The sail was about to snap free.

"Step to it!" the captain shouted.

Without a moment's pause, the woman, Desirae Storms, ran from her post and bolted to the mainmast. She climbed the shrouds skillfully, heading towards the sail ready to snap off the mast. Once on the right level, she ran down the yard and sail and grabbed the loose rope just before it snapped… but the wind was strong, and she found herself being jerked and pulled along with the sail, nearly falling from the mast, but she kept a tight hold, one hand still gripping the rope. She was almost sure the wind against the sail would rip her arm from her shoulder.

"Not good," she muttered. Gritting her teeth, she put all her muscle and strength into pulling herself back up, but it proved harder than it seemed. The sail was determinedly pulling on her arm, wanting to drag her into the depths. However, Desirae Storms was never one to be a quitter, no matter how much it hurt. She continued to fight and actually managed, though with a lot of strain, to bring the arm holding the sail back towards the mast, where she held tight a few moments. She was panting from the strain, and just as she was able to pull herself up a little more a hand appeared in her eye path. She looked up to see one of the crewmen, a young man with dark hair and vibrant green eyes, holding his hand out to her.

"Grab a hold, Dezi!" he shouted, over the wind.

Blinking, Desirae reached out and grabbed his hand, and he helped her back onto the yard and sail before helping to tie the sail back down.

"Daniel, you're bloody insane, you know that right?" asked Desirae, once the sail was secure.

They man, Daniel, merely grinned. "Ah, you know me. I can never resist a little danger… as can't you."

Desirae rolled her eyes and turned her head to the right— before suddenly snapping it there. Her eyes were wide, as she stared at something to the left… and then to the right. Daniel had noticed her shocked, terrified stare and got a questioning look.

"Dezi? Wha…" He trailed off when he realized what had her so frightened, but before either of them could say anything a voice cried out:

"KRAKEN!"

In a mere few seconds, the entire ship was filled with screams and shouts, the crew running in all different directions to avoid the giant tentacles that tried to grab them and pull them in. Not one soul seemed to hear their captain's orders, and Desirae could only watch in horror as one by one they were picked off by the tentacles that wrapped around them and pulled them to their death. This could only mean one thing.

"The Flying Dutchman's coming!" Daniel shouted to her.

Desirae wasn't able to answer, for one of the tentacles hit the mast they were standing on before she could utter one syllable. It shook violently, causing them both to wobble dangerously before falling off the yard and sail. Desirae was able to grab a hold on one of the shrouds on her way down, and moving quickly, caught Daniel's hand when he fell passed her. His body jerked, and Desirae clenched her teeth when her shoulder nearly got pulled from the socket, but she held strong, looking down at Daniel.

"Hold on, mate! Just hold on!" she called to him, even as the screams intensified and the sound of wood splintering reached their ears. Desirae looked down and was terrified at what she saw. There, where the deck once was, was the huge maw of the Kraken, rows upon rows of fang-like, jagged teeth like a meat grinder. The sight alone caused Desirae to pale considerably.

"Dezi!" she looked down at Daniel, as he stared up at her with wide, green eyes. "Dezi, you have to let go!"

"Are you mad?!" she practically screamed.

"Do it! Or we'll both be killed!" he shouted at her.

"No! I won't abandon you! It'll be all right, just— NO!"

"I'm sorry, Dezi." With one clean swipe of his sword, Daniel fell towards the giant maw of the Kraken, leaving his amputated hand still in Desirae's limp grasp.

"NO!" she screamed.

Daniel closed his eyes as he fell into the water with a splash, disappearing in the Kraken's jaws. Numbly, Desirae dropped the hand, moving to get a better hold on the ropes, as she rode out the attack, her eyes glistening. She was forced to watch for another fifteen minutes her crewmates and friends die and be tossed around, but the Kraken finally seemed to become satisfied and began to unwrap its tentacles from the now ruined ship. The vessel was now in two pieces— literally. Debris, dead bodies, random broken planks, shattered crates, blood, and basically everything else that came with a lethal attack was either spread throughout the shattered deck or floating about in the water.

Desirae could see a few of the crewmembers still alive, and it gave her some hope, but before she could dwell any further in that hope a terrible cracking noise reached her ears, and the next thing she knew she was being shaken terribly and was falling towards the deck. One of the retreating tentacles had shattered the base of the mast she was on, and she found herself falling towards the deck at a quick speed. All the way down, she screamed, and the few survivors had to jump out of the way as it crashed across the deck, resulting in a deafening crack.

For a moment, it was silent. Desirae was faintly aware of her name being called by the crewmembers, and she could have sworn she was being lifted off the mast and set on the ruined deck, but she was too out of it to tell.

"Desirae…" The voice was distant, as someone tapped the side of her face. "Desirae, wake up!"

"Dezi…"

The next thing Desirae knew was that the voices around her were suddenly shouting again with renewed fear they had expressed during the fatal attack by the Kraken, and Desirae heard swords being drawn… something was happening, and by the sounds of it, it wasn't good news. She could make out familiar voices and animalistic growls. What was happening?

Groaning, she gradually forced herself back into consciousness… despite the pain in the back of her head. She knew she'd hit it on the way down, and it hurt to say the least. But she had to find out what was going on. It was her responsibility to keep the crew safe as possible. Her crew needed her help. Forcing her eyes open, she gasped at what she saw.

"Holy mother—!" On reflex, she swiftly kicked her foot up, aiming at the man's crotch that was standing over her… that is if you wanted to call him a "man". He resembled more of a sea monster, his entire body covered in a mosaic of barnacles, seaweed, and other things, and only one of his eyes showed, the other half of his face completely covered over in barnacles. A chain with a heavy metal ball on each end was held in each hand… which he promptly dropped while crying out in pain when Desirae's foot collided with his groin. Desirae kicked up off the ground and landed on her feet, stumbled back, and looked up and widening her eyes.

Around the ship, others of the sea demon crew looked their way at the cry from the crewman, and Desirae stared for a long moment before blinking. The ship was full of men — not men — sea monsters! They were covered in all kinds of sea fauna, crustaceans, barnacles, and shells, tentacles, spines, etc. If it was from the sea, they had it.

However, now was no time to gawk like a brain-dead mental patient. She realized this when a sword flew past her head, and she immediately snapped into action. The crewmember she'd kicked shifted to her right, and she swiftly shoved him down and unsheathed her broadsword, turning to face the enemy crew. One of the crewmen, one that resembled a puffer fish, caught her eye, and she beckoned him forward.

"All right, Pincushion, show me what you got!"

He ran at her with a vicious snarl, and Desirae skillfully fended him off with a fancy sword combination and threw him to the side—only to be greeted by another three crewmen.

'Oh boy…' Dexterously, she aimed to take out all three at once, twisting and turning with each attack, and with surprising ease she managed to stab one that appeared to have no face through the gut, turned to the one behind her and gave a powerful front kick to his chest that sent him reeling backwards, and she took care of the last by blocking his attack with her rather large sword and kneeing him in the gut. Desirae grinned triumphantly to herself; however, her victory was short-lived because….

'Oh… double shit…' She froze when she saw a bunch of the crew had turned their deformed faces on her, as they slowly began to close in on her, their faces—if you could distinguish their faces—set in venomous snarls. Glancing to her side, Desirae could see the crewman with the chain shots getting back to his feet, as were the others she'd just fought, and their faces were particularly ticked. There was one thing Desirae knew… when these guys did manage to get their hands on her—which would probably be in the next few seconds—they hadn't made best first impressions with each other.

'Well, look at the bright side, Dezi. At least ye got a good kick in on that git with the chain shots.' She smirked with grim humor. As they closed in on her, she slowly backed up until she was poked in the back by a sword, and she turned—

"Ahh!" She stumbled back a couple steps when she found herself face-to-face with a crewman who's face wasn't even close to human anymore. He smirked at her with a mouth full of barnacles.

Blinking, Desirae turned away—and the puffer fish guy was right there, the side of his face that had spikes puffing in and out angrily. Desirae slowly swallowed when he brought the tip of his sword up to her throat, keeping there while talking in a menacing voice.

"So, what'll it be, missy? Ye gonna come quietly, or do we just have t' cut yer pretty little self down?"

Desirae stared at him. Little? Little? She hardly thought of herself to little.

"Excuse me, but I hardly find myself as 'little', Pincushion," she growled, temporarily forgetting her fear.

There were a few snickers among the crew, and Desirae felt a strange satisfaction when she saw the crewmember's face puff up angrily. He pressed the tip of the sword a little harder against her throat.

"That's Koleniko to ye, whelp," he growled.

Desirae didn't say anything, but a sudden voice caught her abrupt attention.

"Dezi!"

She snapped her head around and peered over the crowd of deformed men before spotting the few members from her crew that had survived. It seemed it was only she and two others, but it was better than nothing. One of them was a young blonde man no older than twenty-three, and he was looking at her with wide, frightened blue eyes.

"Jonathan!" She moved to hurry to his side, shoving through the crowd and avoiding hands until she was mere feet from him, when a cold hand grabbed her wrist, holding her back.

"Unhand me!" She jerked at the crewmember's hold, but his grip was like an iron clasp. She pulled at the ruffian once more. "Let go, you…" She trailed off when she was spun around, and she found herself staring into the blue eye of a man that resembled a hammerhead shark. The skin without barnacles was a bluish-grey, and he had a basically human-looking face… minus the hammerhead protrusion from his skull. Crustacean legs went in a row up his back; the hand that gripped her wrist was cold as ice, and Desirae was startled, the claws that tipped each finger digging into her skin through her sleeve. His other hand seemed to be encased in a lobster shell gauntlet. One of his eyes had been swollen shut or was nearly at that point, but Desirae could feel his good eye drilling right through her, its gaze icy as his hand. Desirae found herself unable to speak, and he snarled in her face.

"Get in line, whelp," He threw her down beside her crewmates, "and keep quiet!"

"That's what I was doing until you—"

"Dezi," the blonde boy, Jonathan, took her hand to calm her, "don't. You don't want to tangle with him," he said, in a hushed tone, watching from the corner of his eye as the shark man walked off.

"Why not? He's just like the rest of them… damned and looking for a broadsword through the throat," Desirae spat, glaring at each of the crewmembers with an equal amount of distaste.

"He's not just one of the crewmembers, Dezi," Jonathan said. "That's Maccus… the first mate."

"And you know this how?" She finally turned to look at him.

He seemed to shrug. "While you were fighting off the others, I overheard a crewman address him as such—" He was abruptly cut off, however, when the crewman standing behind him suddenly hit him across the face with the dull end of his axe, earning a cry of pain from Jonathan. Desirae snapped her head up to glare daggers at the crewman and practically snarled.

"HEY!" She went to pounce the sea monster, and Jonathan called to her while holding his head.

"Dezi, no!"

She wasn't able to reach the crewman, though, because she was jerked back when a slimy hand and tentacle wrapped tightly around her wrist, holding her back. Desirae yelped at the cold, gooey texture and snapped her head back around—only to be face-to-face with….

"Davy Jones…" the man beside Jonathan breathed. Jonathan himself could only stare wide-eyed at the octopus-faced captain, his eyes showing more fear than Desirae had ever seen from him. Jones' electric blue eyes bore into Desirae's with an intensity that made even her squirm slightly. He didn't look angry… just threateningly calm.

"Hello, lass. Do ye want to continue that?" he asked her, his voice containing a thick Scottish accent.

Desirae, trying to keep her mind off the slimy hand gripping her wrist, forced a brave look and replied quick-wittedly: "Very much. But something tells me I'm not going to be given the chance right now."

"That ye aren't," he said, earning a few snickers from the crew. "But ye are going to get a different chance," he continued, using the same slightly mocking tone.

"And what might that be, sir?" asked Desirae smartly, already knowing the answer.

Jones leaned into her face, his beard of tentacles twisting around on his face. "Do ye fear death-uh?"

"Don't answer him, Dezi!" Jonathan shouted, but he silenced when Jones turned to him with an almost angry glare.

"Jonathan, stay out of it!" Desirae snapped, but Jones silences her.

"Shh, no…. Let the lad speak." He left Desirae's side and knelt down in front of the boy, staring at him directly in the face. It stayed that way—silent for a moment—when Jones suddenly shot his claw out and grabbed Jonathan by the throat.

"No!" Desirae tried to intervene, but one of the crewmembers held her back. "Let him go!" she snapped. However, she was silenced when someone roughly grabbed her from behind and slapped a cold hand over her mouth. Her first thought was to bite the hand but decided against it for two reasons. One: it would taste terrible, and two: it probably wouldn't make the situation much better for Jonathan anyway.

'But you have to do SOMETHING, Dezi!' Glancing up, she raised her eyebrows when she saw it was the shark man—Maccus was it?—that was holding her in place. She could tell just by his stature and emotionless eyes that he was high in the ranks. She was startled, though, when he looked down at her, immediately bearing his sharp teeth in a snarl. Desirae swallowed at how sharp they were, but she kept a stern front while turning back to Jones and Jonathan.

"Do you not fear death, boy?" asked Jones, his tone calm. It didn't take a genius to figure out the danger, though.

Jonathan swallowed. "No, sir, I don't."

Jones looked up at the same seaweed covered crewman that had prodded Desirae's back with his sword. "To the depths."

Nodding, the sea monster lifted his axe over his head and was just about to hack it down on Jonathan's skull. That was when Desirae did something she was sure she'd regret.

"WAIT!!"

Squeezing her eyes shut just as the axe was about to kill Jonathan, there was a long moment of silence, and Desirae wondered if he'd been killed. However, when she heard no cracking of skulls or the sound of a body being tossed overboard… she dared to reopen her eyes and hesitantly glance in Jonathan's direction. He wasn't dead! But he was deathly pale, looking as if he'd just seen a ghost. 'Well, he did just narrowly escape death…' Her attention was brought to Jones when he looked to her, looking somewhat annoyed.

"Do ye wish to be next, missy?" he asked, in a dangerous tone.

"Don't harm him…. T-take me instead… please." She was whispering by the last part, her voice showing no fear at all whatsoever, but she was nearly overwhelmed with it. She knew what this could get her. She knew it all too well.

"Dezi, no—"

"Quiet, boy!" snapped the crewman behind Jonathan, pressing the blade of his sword against the boy's throat. He was silenced, but his eyes clearly told Desirae not to do what she was about to.

"No." She looked back to Jones as he spoke. "Ye cannot take his place-uh. One soul is not equal to another."

Desirae stared back into his eyes, her brain rushing to think of something—anything—to save the boy's life—and the other man, now that she thought of it. She remembered what her captain had told her—more of asked of her—if he ever was killed in battle. He had asked her to keep the crew safe and assume the position as captain. She had been shocked at the request—but found herself respectively making a vow to do as such.

Desirae Ramirez Storms never broke her vows.

"I understand that. But perhaps we could work out our price from there then?"

Jones seemed to pause and straightened up. "Price?" He popped his lip, and interested expression on his face.

Desirae inhaled a calming breath through her nose, making sure to keep her face empty. "Yes." She looked up to meet his gaze. "If I'm mistaken, correct me. Legend has it you take sailors and give them two choices—serve or die. If they choose to serve, they need to serve one hundred years before the mast, correct?"

"Aye," Jones confirmed. "Where might ye be goin' with this, missy?"

"Take me in place of my two crewmembers. I'll serve three hundred years in their place. You can have my soul…"

Mumbles broke out in the crowd, but seemed to stop almost immediately after. Jonathan, on the other hand, looked determined to stop this.

"Dezi, don't do this!"

"Jonathan, stay out of this," said Desirae sternly, not looking at him.

"No, you can't—"

"Damn it, boy, can't you give me a moment of honor? Is it too much to ask for?" That seemed to silence the boy long enough, because Jones spoke once more.

"Ye'd be willing to do that, would ye?" His tone was mocking, speaking as if to a toddler.

"I would."

The crew sniggered amongst themselves, and even Jones chuckled slightly.

"And why would we be needin' a girl on the Flying Dutchman then?" he asked, not convinced.

"I can think of more than one reason," muttered Desirae. "For one, your ship needs more… charm than it does now. Also, I'm not as weak as you think. I can lift over two hundred pounds, and I was first mate on this creaking tub, so I'm familiar with every job, term, and hardship. Just name your price, and I'll do it to save these men." She silenced after giving her little speech, waiting for Jones' response. The crew seemed to be a little anxious as well, looking back and forth between themselves, Desirae, Jonathan, and their captain at once. They, too, were interested in the decision. Off to the side, Jonathan sat impatiently, a look of distress over his face. He wanted to shout out again—but he knew it would get him nowhere. The man next to him—well—just basically cowered in fear. It seemed days passed before Jones finally made his decision.

"Done-uh!"

"No…" whispered Jonathan, but he swallowed when Jones turned to him. "Feel free to go ashore." He turned to Desirae and held out a slimy hand. "Shake on it?"

"Only if you promise not to harm then in any way. No Kraken, no nothing. Leave them be and take the deal."

He grinned sadistically. "Of course."

Grimacing, Desirae slowly held out a hand, and the next thing she knew she was letting out a small noise of surprise and disgust when cold slime covered her hand. It had to be the most revolting moment of her life, and when he finally did pull away… there was the Black Spot in her palm. It startled Desirae, quite frankly, when she saw that it was moving—expanding—almost as if it were alive.

'Well, that's different…' When she looked back up, though, she met Jonathan's devastated expression, his baby blue eyes staring at her with nothing short of heartache. The other crewman just looked scared, and Desirae approached them, a solemn look in her eyes. She knelt down before them and looked them in the eyes.

"Dezi—"

"You need to get out of here. Take the longboat and get to shore as soon as possible. Jones is a pirate; he can't be trusted." As she spoke, she kept her voice so only Jonathan and the other man could hear. But Jonathan tried to cut in again.

"Dezi, we won't—"

"Don't argue with me, Jonathan!" she snapped. "It's done, it's over, so deal with it." She sighed, running a hand through her hair to calm herself down. "Listen. If it's possible, spread out your belongings—hats, shoes, jackets, anything. If Jones does end up sending the Kraken for you, maybe it will get confused and go after your belongings first." She continued to stare into Jonathan's eyes, seeing the obvious reluctance. When she saw this, however, she instantly grabbed the boy's shoulders—a bit roughly. "Jonathan you need to promise me you'll listen to me. It's too late, you can't save me. Promise me you'll head for land." When he only stared at her, she shook him. "Promise me!"

"I-I promise," he finally said, his eyes shining.

"Good." She smiled slightly, but she was sure it came out more as a grimace, as she stood back up, knowing she wouldn't be waited for by the crew. As she was going to turn away, though, she paused and gripped a necklace around her neck. She stared at it thoughtfully a moment before reaching up to unclasp it, taking Jonathan's hand and placing the small trinket inside.

"Take it to remember me by." She curled his fingers over it.

Clenching it tightly in his hand, he looked back up at her. It was obvious he was holding back tears, but he never let them fall.

"I won't forget you. And don't think I'll abandon you. Just… promise me you won't let them break you."

Desirae smiled weakly. "I think you know me well enough to know that won't happen. Just don't do anything stupid. Stay-on-land." She suddenly felt a large hand grasp her shoulder and hauled her to her feet with brute strength. It was like she was a feather. She was dragged backwards, but she soon regained her composure and jerked her arm up and sharply downwards, breaking the crewmember's grip.

"I can walk by myself!" She turned to send one last reassuring smile Jonathan's way before being forced to walk with the crew. Still on the deck, Jonathan looked down at the necklace Desirae had given him, a few tears slipping down his cheeks. He couldn't believe he'd let that happen.

"I'm so sorry, Dezi." He clenched the trinket before looking back up—to see that the crew of fish people and Desirae had completely disappeared. He could only stare blankly for a long moment, and the man next to him tugged at his arm.

"Jonathan , come on!"

Forcing himself to gain control over his emotions, the young man slowly got to his feet and glumly walked over to the longboat, which was flipped over on the deck. He knew they'd be hunted by the Kraken, and he knew it was inevitable that they would die before they reached land.

Preview to next chapter: Desirae grunted in response. She knew she was being a little rude, but that was the point. She was testing him. She tested everyone she met. There was a moment of silence, and she thought he left for a moment--when he suddenly spoke.

"Do you have a name , lass?"

Desirae didn't answer right away. "You?"

"My name it Bill Turner, but the others call me Bootstrap Bill, so you may call me that."