The Previous Owner
"Maid or not, it suits you," Barbossa commented mockingly to Elizabeth as he came in to see her dressed in the red dress he had given to her. He was not all that surprised she chose not to go nude.
"Dare I ask the fate of its previous owner?" Elizabeth inquired, raising an eyebrow, trying her hardest not to look like she was scared. Barbossa just put on this face that said, "Oh! Please!"
"No, no, none of that," he replied quickly. He then walked over to a chair that was in front of Elizabeth, and motioned her to sit down. Elizabeth hesitated, but then caught Barbossa's death stare, and hastily sat her bum on the ancient wood. She stared at the food that lay in front of her with hungry eyes. Though it didn't look too appetizing, she hadn't eaten a thing since the night before, so the food looked delicious and welcoming, as if the pork that lay on the silver platter inches away was staring at her, crying out, "EAT ME! EAT ME!"
"Dig in," Barbossa said, leaning in close to Elizabeth's face, emitting his odorous breath and allowing it to flow up into her nostrils, making her gag and her eyes water. She slowly picked up a fork and a knife, and carefully cut the leg that sat on her plate. Then, she carefully placed the meat into her mouth, and chewed the cold piece of meat, all the while thinking of the doom that occurred to the dress' owner before her.
Images began to flow into Elizabeth's mind, and her imagination ran wild. Did Barbossa kidnap a wench in Tortuga, like he had done to her? Perhaps he had captured a princess or someone of royalty in England. Then what did he do? Did he throw her into the cold, damp brigs of the ship, left with nothing to wear but her gorgeous red dress? Or maybe she was tied to a pole, and had to endure the evil and crude treatment the was inflicted to her from the crew.
And then, what had happened next? Did Barbossa tie her to an anchor and throw her into the ocean, laughing as he watched her sink to the bottom of the abyss? Or did he cut her up into tiny pieces and throw her chunks to the greedy sharks? Or, even worse, Barbossa and his crew ate the pieces of flesh and bone? Was the crew of the Black Pearl really a bunch of cannibals? Elizabeth had heard of them before. Was it to be her that would be lying on that silver platter? Will she join the poor woman at the bottom of the sea?
That left Elizabeth wondering what Barbossa had done to achieve the red dress. Had he actually stripped her? Had he made her walk around bare naked on the deck as a show for him and his crew before they killed her? Barbossa had almost made Elizabeth eat undressed with his ghastly crew. Was this man as evil as the tales said?
Meanwhile, Barbossa stared at Elizabeth, watching her daintily eat. Then his attention focused onto the dress. His eyes lit up as he thought of the wonderful memories he had with that dress. He marveled at how soft it looked. He longed to stroke that dress, hold it in his arms as if it were his child. He worried if Elizabeth was carelessly dropping any scraps onto the silky red velvet. He kept staring at the dress longingly, only to look away if Elizabeth caught his glance, but gaze at it once more once she returned to her eating.
And as Barbossa gaped at the dress, he thought to himself, Dammit, why is that bitch wearing my dress? I'm the one whoshould be wearing it!