I've decided that Fan fiction writing is seriously difficult. I really do feel for you who do massive stories. I hope this suffices, but I had serious writer's block & I was clutching at straws really. But anyway, enjoy!

Chapter Four

You're poison running through my veins

I felt odd and slightly sick as this new character began to weave into my brain. She clutched tightly at my Cerebrum like a limpet to a mossy rock and began to take over me. It was as if this new woman was physically near me, she wasn't my imagination but a real person. I felt as though I was being possessed by a real, live spirit. As she weaved into my brain, she seemed to take over my body too. Indeed, my stiff posture began to slacken and my spine arched a tiny bit. I still had the look of a lady and a very highly strung noblewoman, but there was a new fire which burned in my eyes.

It was then that I decided life could continue with or without a family there to support me. And it would. And it was then that my first plans for revenge took hold.

I began to realize, after a few hours of steadily turning over the events of the past night, that the captain didn't want me for my love. I began to understand what his goals were, what sort of person he was. I also knew that this was the sort of man who just might end up getting me killed. I had to be aware of everything.

I had to trust nothing he did.

I crept back into my room when the weather deteriorated and collapsed heavily on the bed. Where before I would have lightly placed myself, this time I threw myself at the soft covers and curled up in a tight ball. I then rolled over and looked intently at the ceiling. It was dirty and slightly wet in patches from the light drizzle of tropical rain outside. A draft blew through the room that I didn't notice before and it made me shudder. Then, suddenly I sat bolt upright.

Across the room were the Captain's drawers. I eyed them up with an evil smirk. I stood and slowly made my way over to them, creeping in the most silence I could manage as if I was being watched. I took the candelabra which hung above the desk and lit the candle on there with it. This seemed a little pointless as the candle had hardly any extra-vision to offer, but I needed the extra light for inside the drawers. I grasped one of the rusty bronze doorknobs which were used to open the drawers, and I dragged it out. It creaked loudly and I froze, but then just yanked it out anyway, to get the noise over and done with. I discovered this drawer was full of just rum bottles and long, large maps full of exotic place names and pinpoints. I shoved them back in before I got lost in the Geography of those unknown places. On the top there was a map of the Caribbean, and I presumed quite rightly that we were currently sailing near to the port of Tortuga.

The second drawer seemed to be full of only his old, worn and dirty clothes. His collection of clothes was tiny, consisting only of a few yellowing shirts and brown breeches. There was, however, a collection of pistols which had been buried under the clothes. They weren't in mint condition, so I decided they weren't of much value to him. I took one and carefully hid it down my cleavage. Surprisingly enough, it fit comfortably without looking suspicious. I took a knife from the drawer too. It was rusty, but it could still do some serious damage if applied properly. I didn't know how to fight, but I guessed that stabbing someone wouldn't be too difficult to fathom.

But it was the third drawer which really caught my attention. It was the third drawer where I discovered his real methods of killing. First of all, I pulled out a long sabre in a gold embroidered scabbard which glinted at me gently in the candle's rosy glow. I drew the sword from inside slowly, enjoying the scraping noise it made as the two metals made contact and rubbed together. I admired it at arms length, gave it a small twirl and then replaced it in it's sheath. I leant it up against the drawers so it wasn't in my way on the inside. I continued to look through his possessions, turning over many different varieties and styles of guns, including a heavy blunderbuss with it's huge black barrel and a few more better cared for pistols. I found a small map tucked up in a soft string-pouch which I couldn't resist taking. It seemed to be important and for some strange reason I was attracted to it. I took it and placed it in the garter at the top of my left stocking.

I seemed to have routed through the entire drawer when a small glint of something smooth and made of glass which was hidden at the back caught my eye. I reached deep inside and retrieved a medium-sized black bottle. On the side 'Arsenic' was written in a slanted, curving style of calligraphy. I was drawn to the poison within instantly. The thick black-grey liquid inside seemed to call to me and I instantly warmed to the colour. The Liquid was grey and reminded me of a stormy day, the clouds so angry. The sky lost behind them. Those days were so mysterious and full of wonder. And the colour reflected all that was powerful in those days.

I decided to take it. I didn't know why, but it would be useful in the next few days. I could tell. I threw the sabre haphazardly back into the drawer and closed the door swiftly. The whole thing shuddered as the drawer slammed shut. It made a loud crash which I knew would attract the attention of the crew, so I hid the Arsenic quickly in the underskirt of my dress and threw myself down on the bed. I feigned sleep just in time as one of the crew came barging in. He saw my sleeping form on the bed, looked around wildly then paused to admire the room. He looked angry, I saw through my half-closed eyes. Angry at something that had nothing to do with the Crashing.

I recognize that expression easily now. Its the expression of a man who has something other than being a good sailor and obeying his captain on his mind. Mutiny. Every pirate has to watch for it or face the consequences. Perhaps it was fate, or just good luck that the pirates weren't on the captains side. And he was just too drunk to notice.

I opened my eyes and sat up, facing the pirate dead on. "Might I assist you in some way?" I asked in fake politeness.

"No ma-am." He growled, an obvious embarrassment rife in his sharp, thin face and the candle's glow highlighting the strands of his brown locks and beard. I was quite astounded by the man, he was powerfully built yet he moved stealthily and his eyes were kind yet... wicked. He looked almost like... The son of the devil. "I thought I heard a noise."

With that and not a word further, he turned and headed for the door. But before he stepped outside, he turned his head and muttered, "We're planning to kill or maroon the captain. We've seen how he treats you, and we were wondering... Would you like to do the honours? We have a plan you see, that we think might just work. But we need a lady's influence, he'd catch on too fast with us. But you have brains AND he can't resist you. We do quite need your help."

I smiled, and patted at my chest, feeling the hard metal of the gun inside. My new malice made my usual pleasant, pleased smile turn into a harsh, evil sort of smirk. "Firstly what's your name, and secondly, how can I help you?" I growled.

"You'll become familiar with our plan soon enough, Missy. The name's Frederick. I'm the first mate. Frederick Barbossa."

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