I was terrified. Utterly and excruciatingly terrified. The never-ceasing memory of the hellish roars and the screaming of my helpless crewmates filled my mind as I sat there, huddled in a corner, on the deck of the wrecked merchant ship I was employed on. Rain kept falling as the lightning filled the night air, thunder rumbling throughout the surrounding ocean. I shook in fear of it returning, coming back to claim me as its last victim out of the rest of the men that I had the misfortune of witnessed being devoured. This is all just a nightmare, a horrible, hellish nightmare. I need to wake up! The denying thought raced through my mind as the rain pelted down upon my face, mixing with the semi dried blood which leaked from a cut near my left eye. I wanted to try and escape the ruins of the vessel, but the fear paralyzed me, making it impossible for me to even move. The waves that repeatedly crashed into the hull splashed water over the side and onto my face, making me flinch and look up to see if it was the monstrous creature returning to kill me as well, but only to see it was nothing but the harmless sea. I drew in shuddering breaths, I had never been this terrified in my life, and never had I seen what was responsible for the destruction of the ship I still remained aboard. I had only heard of it in the horrifying tales back in the taverns of Port Royal and of Tortuga. The beast that did the bidding of Davy Jones, captain of the infamous Flying Dutchman, and sender of souls to the eternal punishment which awaited them in Davy Jones' Locker. The Kraken.

The waves continued crashing upon the wrecked hull of the merchant ship used to be known as the Lady in Blue, now a splintered vessel cracked in half by the ferocious power of Jones' pet. The rain soaked my head of black hair, now glued against my cold, dampened face. A gold cross hung from my neck, clutching it, I constantly prayed for help and salvation from the terror of the situation I still thought of as a nightmare. My amber brown eyes were filled with dismal fear, the visions of the Kraken's merciless attack upon the ship still played through my mind. I began praying once again, hoping that the many times had reached God's ears.

"My Dear Lord and Savior, please deliver me salvation from the torturous place in which I call and impending death, oh God. Send me a sign that my horror and fear will subside. Send me-"

I then heard, over the crashing waves, the sound of something emerging with a loud crash out of the raging sea. I then shakily looked out to see a massive shadow, one that began to seem awfully familiar as it splashed down, with a misty spray, back into the choppy surface. My eyes began to become more filled with overwhelming fright. No, please, God, don't let it be the Devil! I pleaded in my thoughts. The shadow then took on the appearance of a ship, the bow looked like that of a beast carrying a human in its wooden jaws. The sails of the ship were tattered, green as the filaments of the sea. I knew what this ship was, more feared than Jones' Kraken. It was the ship of the Devil himself. The ghostly Flying Dutchman.

In a desperate need to hide from the anticipated appearance of the harvesters, I then ran to the opposite side, jumping over and landing on the slippery rocks. I clung onto a section of the ratlines that were slinked over the ship's hull. I then heard the demonic sounds of the Dutchman's monstrous crew, then the surprising yelp and whimper of another crewman echoed in my ear. I had thought all of the men aboard, except myself, were killed in the attack wrought upon them by the Kraken. Then there was another sound of a man speaking, but it was clear that it was one of the beastly crew. "Down on your marrowbones and pray." I heard the person address to someone. There was then the rattle of chains, then the clanging of swords. Someone was fighting against the crew of the ship of Davy Jones. What a poor soul. "Get back!" I heard the bravado man shout at the crew as they gathered around him. The sound of a man attacking him and the slicing of flesh emanated through the stormy air, eventually being silenced by a grunt and a thud to the deck. I pray for that man, whoever he is. I thought with sincere courtesy as I heard the sinister laugh of the Dutchman's crew.

As the survivors were rallied into a row, my hidden self heard the whimpering man. Then came the sound I feared the most. The sound of the Devil himself making an appearance. The thud of the crab-like peg leg of the master of the Flying Dutchman and her ghastly crew. Davy Jones. I shuddered in complete fear and fright, hearing the thudding draw closer, but eventually stopping. I then heard one of the crew address his captain.

"Five men still alive, the rest have moved on." he said in a rough voice.

The thudding the resumed, coming closer and closer, eventually stopping near where I was huddled to the outside of the hull. The whimpering man continued as the tentacle face of the ghostly Jones appeared when the captain lit a match with his tentacle finger, placing the end of a pipe in his mouth. Jones then inhaled the smoke of the tobacco and then took the pipe from his mouth, looking back at the man. "Do you fear death?" he asked, smoke pouring from his mouth as he doused the match with a smoky exhale. "Do you fear that dark abyss?" The man shuddered violently with terror. Jones could feel it from him, further scaring him with the questions of his life.

"All your deeds laid bare?" Jones asked, his lip quivering a bit. "All your sins...punished?" a snort came from him.

I still clung onto the nets, becoming further terrified of what Jones was asking the poor soul in front of him, and above where I was huddled below.

The whimpering man still shook. Jones looked back at him. "I can offer you...an escape." Jones said, emphasizing the end of the last word. This enticed the frightened sailor to look upon the now grinning captain.

"Don't listen to him!" a voice suddenly called out, protectively to the dying sailor. Jones suddenly whipped his head to a man holding onto a rosary, a glare directed to the religious man. He then got up, his glare remained undying, and seized the man by his throat with his monstrous crab claw that replaced his left arm. Jones gazed upon the brave man.

"Do you not, fear death?" he asked in a sort of whisper, taking another drag from his pipe.

The man of courage looked upon the captain in disgust. "I'll take my chances sir."

Jones then released him, smoke pouring from the octopus-like nostril, looking up at two of his crewmen. "To the depths." he said in a raspy command. The creatures that were once men then grasped hold of the man by his head. There was then the sound of ripping flesh, accompanied by the evil laughter of the crewmen as they pushed the dead man's body overboard. I then saw, and flinched in fear, the morbid sight of the fresh cadaver as it fell past me and into the churning sea. An example of the mercy never shown from the Dutchman's crew.

One of the dying glared at Jones. "Cruel blaggard!" he spat. Jones looked at him.

"life is cruel." he said, with the usual emphasis at the end, emptying the still burning tobacco from his pipe by knocking it upside down against the hardness of the claw. "Why should the afterlife be any different?"

"I offer you a choice." Jones then kneeled to the most frightened man. "Join my crew and postpone the judgment. One hundred years, before the mast." The man looked at the man with squirming tentacles. "Will ye serve?"

While I waited below, I hoped that the man wouldn't accept the offer. He's making a deal with the Devil himself. Don't be a fool! But, unfortunately, I heard the frightened man say "I will serve." I shook my head. Poor dolt.

Jones smiled in satisfaction. "There." he said. The crew began chuckling as the barnacled captain of the Flying Dutchman eventually came to a man who seemed unharmed and perfectly alive. "You are neither dead nor dying. What is your purpose here?" Jones questioned

I then began to try and make my way around the ship, if I had heard a man fighting against them, he could've been from another ship. Which would've meant he had to journey to the wreck by longboat. A way of escape! I thought. But the utter temptation of leaving this nightmare could be quickly cut short if any of the sea-life encrusted crew happened to spot me. I had to wait for the opportune moment.

"Jack Sparrow sent me to settle his debt." the man replied. Jones became exceedingly interested. "What is your purpose here?" he asked again. "Jack Sparrow...sent me to settle his debt." the man relied once again. Jones then softly cackled. "Did he now?" he asked. "I'm sorely tempted to accept that offer" the "ah" replaced the last sound of the last word.

I waited until I heard the gradual disappearance of the crew, taking away the ones who had accepted Jones' offer of one hundred years servitude aboard his ship. One hundred years of servitude that would bind them to the Dutchman itself. I looked out to sea, hearing the faint shouting of Jones, seeing the faint outline of a ship's shadow, but it could've just been a huge rock looming in the dark like the shape of a ship. But do rocks have tall poles sticking out of them? Three tall poles? I asked myself.

"Move a leg!" snapped a crewman, my response of jumping in a slight fear that the man was addressing me. Fortunately, I remained undetected from the senses of the Flying Dutchman's crew.

I heard the laughs of the sinister and devilish crew finally vanish. All was quiet. I then made my chance to get away, the waves still crashing upon the slippery stone. I tried the best I could of gripping onto the hull of the vessel, but of no avail, a wave crashed against the ship and nearly swept me out to sea. I grasped an edge of one of the rocks, pulling myself back onto the higher surface and continued my trek to the longboat, tied not far from where I was. I then gasped and ducked down as I heard the hull of the ancient Flying Dutchman sail past the bow of the merchant vessel, pointing back out to sea and then gradually vanish out into the storm which made its way farther out to sea. I drew a shaky sigh of relief, continuing to make my way to the longboat. I then happily climbed into the still intact craft of my salvation. I kissed the boards and the oars in joy, knowing that, wherever the ship it came from was, they'd further assist in my rescue. That was, if they weren't anything like the merciless crew that pressganged the rest of my shipmates into the century of service. I looked out to sea, seeing three lanterns being lit. Three stern lanterns of a ship! I quickly placed the oars in the slots and untied the small boat from the splintered post of my former vessel of employment, casting off and rowing out to the unknown ship that seemed to blend in with the night.

"Er, Mister Gibbs."

Mister Gibbs walked over to a man with dreadlocks, his left hand covered in a shiny coat of slime. "Cap'n?" he asked.

"I-I feel sullied and unusual." said the dreadlocked man.

"And how do you intend to harvest these ninety-nine souls in three days?" Gibbs asked.

The one Gibbs addressed to as "Cap'n" looked at him. "Fortunately, he was mum as the condition of which these souls need to be." the man replied quietly.

Gibbs cracked a smile. "Ah, Tortuga." he said.

The Cap'n then wiped his slimy hand on Gibbs' bluish coat, ridding himself of the putrid substance. "Tortuga." he said.

Suddenly, there was the light thud of something hitting against the side of the ship. A chunky-looking man, with no hair more than an inch or two above the upper ear line, looked over the side with a pair of yellowish eyes. "Sir! It's the longboat!" he confirmed.

The man walked over to the side. "Is it Will? I'd be the least bit surprised if he escaped." he said.

"No, it's...someone else." said the yellow-eyed pirate. The dreadlocks of the captain nearly hung in front of his eyes as he looked down into the longboat. His eyes widened a bit upon seeing a damp spot of blood on the occupant's left rib. "Get this man aboard. I'll let our medic tend to him." the man said.

I was still in the longboat, passed out from the gradual loss of blood and the shock of seeing the things of legends and nightmares right before my eyes. I began to remember my mother and father, both now deceased, welcoming me home in warm loving arms. Mum? Dad? I mumbled in my unconscious sleep as two men, the round one who had pointed me out to the captain, and another who had a slim body and a wooden eye, brought the longboat back aboard the deck of the ship. The three masts of the vessel unfurled solid black sails as she began a course for the pirate haven of the Caribbean.

Tortuga.