Years I spent on that island, alone but for the memories of the horror that had gone before.
I concentrated on the one thing I knew would keep me alive.
Flint.
He was my constant companion. I saw him clearly in my mind, as clearly as though he were stood next to me; his eyes without mercy his jaw set, hand on his sabre.
I would survive this island, I would find him and cut his stone cold heart from his chest.
When I awoke in the night, in terror, convinced that I could hear the brothers I had slew calling to me to join them, I would see him and my resolve would strengthen.
I would not leave this earth before he had suffered a reckoning by my hand.
Yes, Flint would get me through.
As I struggled to survive, my conviction grew.
I imagined the different ways I could end him, each time his soulless eyes defying mine to the last.
Vengeance was all I had left.
My days were spent half in reality, half in fantasy. My mind would recount times past, times I had looked upon him and smiled, saved his life even.
It was true my choices had brought me to this, and I wished, wished so very dearly, that I could have that time back to alter them. I should have found some other way to break free of Flint, to depose him. My mistake was believing Silver strong enough to resist him.
Days, months, years passed.
Eventually I started to lose hope of rescue. Even thoughts of my revenge had become clouded.
But here's luck.
One day like a mirage, a small skiff appeared on the horizon. As she approached I could see she was manned by only a couple of men, one of whom, I recognized to be someone I had known well before.
It was easy for me to ambush them, I had the advantage of knowing the Island. Like some savage I killed his partner, cutting him down without pause. Then I turned my attention to my old friend Ben Gun.
Terrified he was of me, a spectre from an old nightmare. His voice a quiver, he told me everything that had passed since I had fallen into the sea.
I listened in disbelief. Anger and confusion tore at me.
His righteous war, his struggle against the blight of civilisation; it was never for the cause, never for any of us at all, it was simply revenge for the loss of a man he once loved named Thomas Hamilton.
A sudden flash of nausea caused me to sit down and a white hot pain arose behind my eyes as Gunn recounted the tale.
Ben explained that Silver (by some miracle) had discovered that Thomas was still alive, and fearing for Madi's safety, used this knowledge to convince Flint to stand down his crusade.
He recounted how they had taken him to the plantation, how his fight had slowly ebbed away, how Flint before his eyes had become another soul.
He'd heard that they had disappeared together to live out their days in Savannah.
Captain Flint, it appeared, was no more.
Madness threatened to overtake me.
Ben told me many other things: treasure, Silver, the fate of Nassau, all of which meant nothing to me.
What mattered, was only him.
I spared Ben, left him with the island and the treasure that lay hidden within it to keep him company. I felt some remorse, but my need to find Flint was too great.
As he had taken everything from me, I would take that which he loved most from him.
Thomas would die by my hand.