AN: Well, nothing much to say here. It took longer to update this than I had originally planned, but in return I managed to start on a new story, The Hancock Initiative, and this chapter is truly humongous. So all in all, I'm pretty satisfied. Exams are steadily coming my way though, so I'm not sure how much time I'll be able to spend on writing. Meh, we'll see. Here's crossing my fingers that I'll manage to upload a new chapter pretty soon, but I first want to spend some time hammering out the plotlines for HI before returning to this.

Well that's enough from me, who wants to see James kick undead butt?!

Warning, gore. Lots and lots of gore. Seriously. It gets messy.

Chapter 11 – James

James shifted a bit in order to keep his balance as the longboat crested a particularly high wave, mind completely focused on the task ahead. Well, not completely. A small part of his brain kept prodding at his thoughts, insisting that he was missing something.

James turned to look over his shoulder, just in time to see the light of Will's lantern be swallowed up by the oppressing darkness inside the cave. A cave which currently held a chest of cursed gold, an entire pirate crew cursed by said gold, and the love of Will's life. Not a very advantageous situation to be sure, but James had faced far worse. Though credit where credit is due, this was pretty far up the list.

The problem with the situation that had a rebellious part of James' brain throwing a tantrum was the fact that he had faced worse odds. And while he trusted Jack to escape with his life and the majority of his limbs, Will was still a rookie. A rookie with an aptitude for swords and, after intense "training" with him, a very mean right hook, sure, but in the end still a rookie.

Throw him in a bar and James could tell you from experience Will would walk away with a shiner but otherwise unharmed. Pit him against any common thug, criminal or wayward pirate and James' money would be on his sort-of apprentice. But an entire damned crew sailing under one of the most cunning and ruthless of pirate captains to rule the Caribbean sea?

No, James sided with the mutinous part of his brain on this one, the odds were definitely not in their favor. He agreed with Jack's idea to first scout out the place with a small party, since currently only James would survive a direct confrontation. But was there really a need to take Will? Why not Gibbs? Or even better, why not Raven? Her shapeshifting abilities were perfect for this. Something she had loudly proclaimed in protest to being left behind.

At the time Jack had simply said that in the state she was in she would act rashly and could blow their cover. Looking at Raven's face, which had made an impressive attempt at turning the same shade as her hair, despite her blue skin, James had agreed. Now though he found himself uneasy.

Will was in a way the worst possible choice Jack could make when deciding who to take with him. After all, Will had two reasons for acting rashly, apart from his lack of experience; one, the murderer of his father was in that cave, and second, the love of his life was currently in the perilous position of possibly losing her own life.

James frowned, then ruthlessly squashed the mutinous part of his brain, who by this time had managed to gain a following and had made large banners with "DANGER!" written so big, James could almost hear the capital lettering. He would put his trust in Jack to see Will through it all. The wily pirate captain probably already had several schemes in place in order to make the crew of the Pearl mortal again and in order to do that he needed Will. After a slight hesitation he decided he would also firmly put his faith in Will himself, trusting the young blacksmith to follow the older man's lead, and to put both his sword skills and his lessons to good use in order to get the hell out of dodge if things went completely pear-shaped.

James shook himself a little before focusing on the task ahead, completely this time. They had to find the Pearl, disable whatever crew was left to guard the ship, then commandeer said ship and get the hell out of there. All of this before Barbossa came to the realization that he had the wrong blood in order to complete his ritual. Because Jack would bet both Jack's golden teeth and Gibb's rum stash that the dark captain would be storming out of the cave, jump on his ship and lead a destructive rampage across the seven seas in order to find the blood that he needed. Probably after making sure Miss Swann would depart the world of the living.

James clenched his jaw. He refused to let that happen. 'Come on Jack, you're Will's only hope right now.' A voice from behind him pulled James out of his thoughts.

"Sir, where are we going?"

James turned around to address the speaker only to see empty air in front of him. James had a confused expression on his face until an annoyed cough came from below. James looked down incredulously, finding himself face to face with a stormy looking bald dwarf.

Well.

Face to belt buckle, but still.

Quickly composing himself James answered the surly looking dwarf, but pitched his voice to carry to the other crewmembers on the longboat, who were all doing a pitiful job at acting as if they weren't eaves-dropping.

"We are currently finding a way to hurt Captain Barbossa where it hurts him the most."

He gave a conspiring grin at that, but was instead met with blank, somewhat confused faces. Several of the crewmembers cave each other questioning looks, before turning back to him.

"We steal his treasure?", one of the men suggested.

"No.", James said with a sigh.

"We shoot him?", asked another.

"No.", James said, annoyed now.

Honestly, didn't these men pay any attention at all when something important happened?

"We shoot him, then take his treasure!", the first man offered, looking mightily pleased at himself at his own cleverness and shooting the other man a smug look.

"No.", James ground out, a vein visibly throbbing in his forehead.

"We steal his hat?"

"No! Wait, actually, from what Jack told me, that might actually work. Keep that one in mind."

"We kick him in his balls!", the dwarf roared, looking far too enthusiastic. And far, far too close to his family jewels to James' liking.

"No! No we are not doing any of that!"

His crew quieted down and looked at him half in confusion and half in anticipation. James sighed and pinched his nose.

"We are going to steal his ship."

The comment left utter silence in his wake, the crew now looking at him incredulously. Then they all erupted as one. Through the cacophony of voices, James couldn't really make out anything the men said, though the gist of it was aimed at his brain and the crew's lack of faith in there actually being one in the first place. Having had enough of this, James took a deep breath.

"ENOUGH!"

The men quieted down immediately under his glare. James spoke, his voice barely above an animalistic growl.

"We are going to sail the waters across the island. We search for the anchorage of the Pearl, which should be somewhere deep, out of sight and fairly close bind. Once we find the ship, we take the ship, we sail the ship here, load in whatever crew and supplies she needs and we get the hell out of here."

The crew was silent for a few moments before the dwarf spoke up.

"What happens then? Jack owes us a ship."

James shook his head.

"He didn't promise a ship, he promised one ship, the Interceptor, to be used during this quest and to be yours after everything is said and done. We will sail away on the Pearl, you sail away on the Interceptor. Of course, should any of you be willing to crew the Pearl, you are welcome to do so."

James grinned as he saw several man whisper excitedly to each other, while others simply had greedy looks on their faces. Understandable, of course. The pirate world didn't work with a resume system or anything like that. Should a captain find himself with a ship but without a crew, he will then look for one. He does this mostly by either sending out some of his officers to find the men they think are worth hauling along, such as Jack did with Gibbs, or he will simply spread the news that he requires a crew to man the ship. The first method is widely used and is based on which people you know and who you trust. It's mostly used with small ships and the crewmembers often have sailed together before, or know the captain on a personal level.

However, the second method is used almost exclusively by the rich and/or famous. These two often coincide in the pirate world. The second method relies purely on fame; not on how many people you know, but on how many people know you. It's all about the name, which draws in hopeful sailors looking to share in either fame or fortune. Again, these two are almost inseparable when dealing with pirates.

The fame, or infamy, can be either that of the captain or that of the ship. While a famous ship will more often than not have a famous captain, this is not always the case. For instance, had Barbossa claimed the Pearl before Jack had found a crew, then he would have needed to find one. He would have done this by spreading the name of the Pearl instead of his own name, since the Pearl was more widely known than him, but famous enough to attract attention. Likewise, should Jack succeed in the reclaiming of the Pearl, but leave Barbossa alive, Barbossa would then have to either commandeer or buy a new ship. Should he commandeer a relatively unknown ship, or simply buy a new one, he would then advertise his own name, since it is more widely known than his current ship.

The reason why the crew was looking forward to the chance to crew the Pearl was because there was a certain amount of prestige involved in sailing with famous names. Not only did this give you bragging rights in taverns and the like, a surprisingly important cornerstone of pirate-culture, but it also allowed you access to the more famous names.

At a certain point, a ship or captain becomes so famous, that there are more applicants for his ship then that he actually needs. So he'll take only the best. And here is where a process comes into play which resembles a resume somewhat. Applicants will be asked under who they have sailed before, or on what ships. The more impressive the list, the higher the chance of getting hired. Meaning that crewing famous ships, leads to opportunities to crewing even more famous ships. And, as cannot be stressed enough, fame and fortune are tightly intertwined in the pirate world. Meaning that for the crewmembers, the offer could be considered somewhat of a fast-track to the rich and famous.

"Well, what are we waiting for?! Row! Row! Row!", the stormy looking dwarf roared, spurring the rest of the crew into action.

Looking out over the bow of the longboat, James didn't bother to hide his grin. Dangle the promise of fame and riches in front of a pirate's nose and he would jump overboard without a second thought.

The mist that hung eternally around the island like an oppressive shroud made searching for the Black Pearl a far more tedious task than James had anticipated. Or wanted. The mist was so thick in places, the crew men in the back of the longboat could no longer see James who was perched on the bow.

They were forced to venture deep into every inlet, since they couldn't see what was in it from the entrance alone. This cost them valuable time, as not only did the fog slow them down, yes their boat was shallow, but the reefs were treacherous, but once they found out that they had searched the entire inlet for nothing, they had to double back again, losing them even more time.

James cursed silently as yet another inlet proved to be completely absent of any haunted pirate ships. This was the seventh they had searched. Should they continue any further in this direction they would be too far away from the Interceptor to make it back in time. Also, there was a very probable possibility of the Pearl being anchored in one of the inlets in the opposite direction in which they set out.

Looking back at the grim or frustrated looks of his small crew he saw that they had come to a similar realization. He frowned at the water in front of the bow, deep in thought, before nodding to himself, having reached a decision. He turned towards his men.

"Alright, listen up. We search another three inlets. Make it an even ten. I doubt Barbossa would anchor his prize ship any further off from where he can easily reach it. Then we turn back towards the Interceptor and start searching in the opposite direction for as long as we can."

The crew groaned, but didn't voice their protest and dutifully began rowing again. The eight inlet proved just as fruitless as the previous seven, and after searching everything in the ninth short of what was under sea-level, they admitted defeat there as well. James sighed.

"Just one more boys."

The crew reluctantly agreed and started picking up the pace again. As the tenth and final inlet became visible through the dense, swirling mist, James refused to get his hopes up, simple staring impassively at the grey fog, obscuring the inlet from view. He could almost feel the hopeful anticipation from the men behind him.

As they turned the corner, slowly drifting through the dense fog hiding the world from their eyes, James heard a sound that made him give an explosive sigh of relief. It was a sound any sailor worth his salt had heard as many times as there were stars in the sky or grains of sand in the desert. The sound could be heard almost continuously in every harbor, no matter how big or small. It was a creaking and groaning sound. The sound of a ship.

He grinned at his men, who looked back at him with confused looks. James senses were far superior to any human, so it was only after a few more moments that the crew heard the sound as well. The moment they did, smiles erupted on their faces, some of them already turning towards each other to whisper about their good fortune. James cut it off quickly though with a sharp hiss. Crouching low, he spoke in a soft, menacing voice.

"Haul in the oars and nobody make a sound. You so much as breathe harder than a mouse and I will gut you myself."

The crew looked at him fearfully, not fully sure if he was serious or not. Seeing he had their attention and they had done as he asked, James explained.

"The mist hides us from view, so they cannot see us, but they can still hear us. We have stealth on our side now, but if they hear us it's gone and it's going to be a whole lot nastier."

Seeing the men nod in understanding he continued.

"We will let the tide take us as close as possible, and then we silently board the ship. If there's anybody still on there, do not shoot them. Sound travels far and Barbossa might hear it. Use your knives and swords. These guys are immortal, so just stabbing them won't work."

He saw some of the men turn green at the thought, obviously rethinking the intelligence of going against an immortal damned crew. James thought back to a half hour ago, when Jack had pulled him aside for a few words.

Jack's grip on his arm was tight and his eyes were intent as they looked into his own.

"Remember when we were locked up in Port Royal?"

James grunted.

"Aye, bub, imprisonment tends to linger."

Jack shook his head, obviously not in the mood for banter.

"Listen, do you remember the shot form the Pearl? You pulled me to safety and were knocked out yourself."

James nodded with a grimace. Sure he was immortal and no stranger to pain, but getting your head smashed in by cannon shrapnel and pieces of your own cell-wall?

Not fun.

At all.

James nodded. "Aye, I remember. What of it?"

Jack grinned then.

"Remember what you did when you woke up?"

James had to think hard this time. His head still had been somewhat fuzzy and he had been distracted by the familiar burn of his healing factor kicking in. The fact that it had been his head that was currently being repaired only made matters worse. Still though, James felt he should remember what came after.

He remembered waking up covered in blood. Some blokes standing in front of their prison. One of the guys stabbing him in the chest. Why though? James ransacked his brain trying to come up with an answer. Suddenly it clicked together. The man's arm had been shoved through the bars in order to choke Jack. But it had been made entirely of bone. Bone that James had broken almost clean in half.

His fuzzy head made him not pay any real attention to it and it faded to the background, but he now vividly remember the discomfort the other man had been in and the way he cradled his arm. Looking up at Jack he saw the pirate grin wildly.

"Guess you are right James. There ain't nobody like you, except you."

James merely grinned back, a feral gleam in his eyes.

James continued, putting the conclusions he and Jack had come to about their enemy's immortality to good use.

"Try and disable them. Cut of their heads, or their arms so they can't pull their weapons. They won't die from it, but they can't heal, so unless someone else fixes them, they'll be out for the count."

The men who had turned green before had somehow managed to keep up the colour, while simultaneously turning as white as a sheet.

'Impressive.'

James dismissed them as he turned back towards the bow of the ship, his eyes, so much better than that of even the best look-out, struggling to pierce the fog mere feet in front of him. And then the mist suddenly parted, as if a stagehand had gotten the cue to part the drapes and did this with a zealous enthusiasm. In front of them, drifting majestically on the waves, was the Black Pearl.

Many of the men let out soft gasps of surprise, and James found that he couldn't really fault them. The Pearl was majestic. A three master made out of wood as dark as ebony. As they glided alongside her, still unnoticed from any crew left behind, James thought that she had a serene, but haunted, beauty to her. The infamous black sails were in tatters, so much so that James wondered how she even managed to sail, never mind be considered one of the fastest ships to roam the Caribbean seas.

As they got closer, they could see the wood was grimy, and was showing a distinct lack of care. Damage from past battles was clearly visible between the dark panels of her hull, like battle scars on a fair maiden. James found himself even angrier with Barbossa. Not only had he stolen this ship through betrayal and deceit instead of winning it in battle, but he had obviously mistreated it, doing nothing to take care of her. The Pearl suffered under Barbossa's rule and James found a vindictive pleasure in freeing her from the black-hearted captain and returning her to her rightful owner.

Finally they were close enough, their longboat almost touching her hull. They still were unnoticed. James turned to his crew, a finger to his lips. Seeing his crew nod in understand, James spoke softly, pointing to the upper deck of the Pearl.

"Everybody prepare to board. Remember, no sound, no guns, and cut instead of stab."

After getting another round of nods, and a rather unsettling grin from the bald dwarf, James turned back towards the Pearl, grasping the lowest rung and swiftly started climbing. Having done this countless times before during his varying adventures the last few decades, James had no trouble scaling the side of the cursed ship. When he arrived at the highest rung James peeked between two pillars of the balustrade surrounding the upper deck.

The deck was deserted, but he could vaguely hear voiced drifting up from the stairs which led below. Quickly vaulting over the low balustrade, James landed quietly as a cat on the deck, his heavy boots barely making any sound as they hit the deck. Turning back towards the balustrade he saw the dwarf looking at him expectedly. Giving a curt nod, the dwarf immediately climbed further along. He was too short to vault the balustrade like James had done and was struggling getting his small frame across the railing. James huffed and walked towards the bald man, grasped him by the back of his vest and set him down on the deck. The dwarf gave him a dark look, but James simply raised an eyebrow, causing the dwarf to lose the look and give a grudging nod of thanks.

During this, the rest of his crew had managed to get on deck as well, looking around in a mix of nervousness and anticipation. James had to hand it to them; they had all boarded with only the softest of sounds. James was pretty sure that unless Barbossa had someone like him or his brother in his crew they were still unnoticed. Pointing towards the stairs, James stalked slowly and soundlessly towards it, followed somewhat more noisily by the rest of the men.

James paused at the entrance, trying to listen to the voices, in order to determine how many men there were. So far he had heard only two voices, though this didn't mean that there weren't more people there. Still, it was a rather low amount. Either Barbossa was more arrogant than they thought, or these few guards were deemed sufficient enough to defend the whole ship. James really hoped that the first was the case, since the second posed a whole new level of problems that he didn't want to deal with. Because if Barbossa thought that less than a handful of men were enough to defend an entire ship, then the men he had chosen would be very dangerous indeed. He turned towards his crew.

"Draw your swords.", he said softly. "It won't do to lay in ambush and then give yourself away when they hear the ring of steel being drawn."

The men quickly complied, though it made James wince. They had done so quickly and at the same time, making it far too loud for James' liking. Luckily, a bellowing laughter drifted up the stairs from below, drowning out the noise. He slowly descended the stairs continuously scanning his surroundings, wary of any pirate coming from any of the other rooms, or maybe laying in ambush. However, it seemed there was nobody else left behind but the two James had heard. Arriving at the bottom of the stairs James finally got a good look at the guards.

One was a massive man, standing well over a foot higher than James, armed with what appeared to be small anchors, their ends sharpened to a mean looking point. The man was dressed in tattered dark breeches and a vest which showed off much of his muscled chest.

The second man was armed more traditionally than his companion, carrying a cutlass and a single pistol from what James could see. His clothing was somewhat more eye-catching though, consisting of striped pants of what probably used to be a high quality, a shirt with far too many frills for James' liking and a vibrant yellow coat. The colour was almost too ugly to look at. When new it might have been a dubious fashion statement, but frayed and dirtied as it was now it was simply a yellow monstrosity.

The large man was seated on a barrel with his back towards the stairs, hands on a table in front of him. The table was made with a pristine white cloth, silverware and delicious looking food. The second man sat across from his companion and was currently bent over, rummaging through a large chest.

"Hurry up will ye?", the larger man rumbled. "The curse will be lifted soon and we can have the first proper meal in near ten years, I don't plan on missin' it because you were picky about what to drink."

As James quietly stalked closer, keeping to the shadows and followed closely by his crew, he slid out his claws. The other man, still bent over, replied in curt tones.

"It is precisely the fact that it is the first time in near ten years that we can eat proper like, so I am not goin' to waste it like you intend to do. This meal needs to be perfect, and that means matchin' the perfect drink to the food."

The man straightened up, making James freeze in his tracks. The man was too fully immersed in what he had dug out of the chest to notice them though. It was a bottle of what appeared to be wine. Expensive wine at that. The yellow-coated man peered at the label with his eyes narrowed in concentration, his lips moving inaudibly as he mumbled what was printed on the bottle. After nearly a minute of this, in which James hadn't dared to so much as blink, the burly man suddenly let out a bellowing laughter. The sudden and very loud sound startled James so much he had to force every muscle in his body to not jump ten feet into the air.

"You ain't got no idea what's written there, right?", the large man laughed loudly.

His colour challenged companion sighed in annoyance, closing his eyes and pinching his nose.

"For the last time Bruce, I can-", the man cut himself off as he looked up, first in annoyance, then in shock as he finally noticed James and his crew poised to cut them down.

The burly man apparently noticed his companion's look, because he began to turn around on his barrel.

"What're ye lookin' at-", the man started.

He never got any further than that, because James surged forwards, his claws imbedding themselves in the back of the man's skull, and erupting through his forehead. Caught off guard because of the violent death and the unusual weapons, the coated man was a few seconds too slow before pulling his pistol from his belt.

James saw the man reach for his weapon and sprung over the table. The man wasn't allowed to take the shot; it would be heard for miles! As the barrel of the pistol aligned with the center of his forehead and a cruel sneer formed on the guard's face, James leg extended out in a perfect roundhouse kick. Time slowed down almost to a crawl as James saw the man's fingers start to squeeze the trigger, his own foot nearing the man's hand.

Then suddenly it was over and both James and the guard looked at the pistol with a slightly puzzled expression. It was thrown violently from the coated man's grip before the man could have taken the shot and was now lying in a dark corner of the deck. Taking advantage of the confusion, James slammed his claws into the guard's chest, causing the damned crewmember to cry out in pain.

Lifting the man up high up above his head, James let out a beastly roar and threw the man towards his crewmembers, who were ready for it. The guard was quickly relieved of both his arms, and the bald dwarf took great pleasure in taking off the man's head.

'Really need to have a talk with Gibbs about that one.', James thought to himself.

The dwarf turned towards James with a proud grin, only to widen his eyes in horror. James was puzzled at first until he heard the sound of chains behind him.

'Right, we didn't disable the first gu-'

Any further thought was cut off by an angry roar behind him and pain exploded in his side. James was thrown violently into one of the walls which such force, he almost shattered the wood. He slid down the grimy surface with a pained moan. Vaguely the sounds of battle reached him, but he didn't pay attention to it. He had his eyes closed, his head was ringing from the impact with the wall, which had broken multiple bones as well and he could feel his right lung filling with blood. Giving a pitiful cough, which only served to intensify the headache, James hunched over.

It quickly became apparent what had happened. The large man had nailed him in the side with one of his anchors, ripping a large part of his chest open and piercing one of his lungs, maybe even his heart. The knowledge didn't help him though; his healing was automatic, meaning that he couldn't steer it to heal something first. The next five minutes were wrecked with agony, his mind still a haze as he tried to empty his lungs as fast as possible to speed up the healing.

Finally he managed to draw a rattling breath. Opening his eyes he finally saw the battle occurring mere feet in front of him. Or perhaps slaughter was a better word. From the dozen or so men who had come with him, only four were still alive, one of them being the dwarf.

The large man with the anchors stood snarling before them, his body mangled but still standing. Several swords were stuck in his chest and legs, one of them nearly cut in half at the knee. The man's left arm hung limp at his side, obviously broken at some point. The man's face though was the most horrifying. His jaw was completely gone, as was an eye and the better part of both his ears. There was no blood flowing from the wounds yet the man was almost covered in it.

Looking around as James came to his feet, he saw the reason why. The floor, the walls, even the ceiling were covered in blood. The man's weapons had torn enormous gashes in his enemies, spilling their blood in great amounts. Focusing back on their undead adversary, James took a shaky step forward.

It was too late though as the monster, it couldn't be called anything other than that at this point, let out a roar and charged the man closest to him. The sailor, a fat man with a rapidly receding hairline, let out a shriek of fear and wildly stabbed forwards with his sword. The cutlass was effortlessly bashed aside by the monster's anchor, before, with a grunt and a heave, the unusual weapon was swung back around, tearing the fat man's head clean of his shoulders.

While this was taking place, the last two of James' men threw down their swords and ran up the stairs clamoring in fear. The bald dwarf had taken action though. Having picked up a sword, his own amongst the numerous already imbedded in the monster, he gave a battle yell and charged forwards, swinging with all the strength his small frame would allow right as the monster's back was turned.

The small stature of the dwarf caused the cut to be around knee-height with the monsters large stature. But it was effective nonetheless. The sword bit deeply in the already mangled knee, completely cutting it in two. Unbalanced, the monster crashed down with a roar. The dwarf let out another yell and jumped closer towards its head, intending to finally end it. The monster was faster though, swinging its broken arm around like a bat, nailing the dwarf in the face.

The bald man of small stature was violently thrown back, landing painfully. Looking up, he saw the monster crawling to its remaining knee, before fixing its single eye on him, pure rage the only thing visible in it. With a roar, the mutilated crewmember pushed off, his weapon raised high above his head, intend on killing the small man in front of him. The dwarf closed his eyes, dreading the coming blow. But before the bloodied weapon could finish its deadly arc, another roar was heard, followed by sound of something heavy impacting something that was slightly heavier.

Peeking through a single eye, the dwarf let out a shaky sigh of relief; James had tackled the monster away from his downed crewmember, finally healed enough to join the fight. And fight he did, with a savage brutality the cursed crewman found himself helpless against. Every swing was dodged, while in retaliation, James claws ripped into him, slashing and stabbing with wild abandon.

In short order, James had the monster pinned on his claws. It made a gurgling sound, and the hatred in its eye showed that it still wasn't out for the count, not yet. It raised its arm above its head, intent on smashing in James' skull. Giving a roar of his own, James pulled his claws out of the monsters chest, grabbed one of the swords sticking out of its chest, ripped it out and with a mighty swing, cut off the cursed crewman's head. It fell to the bloodied floor with a dull thump before rolling away into the dark bowels of the Pearl.

The body, now completely without any form of guidance, tried to balance on its remaining leg, swinging wildly with its remaining arm. Looking at the monstrosity with disgust, James lifted his boot and slammed it into the things chest, making it sail back and crash down on the table, breaking it in half and spilling the meticulously planned dinner all over the floor. It didn't get up.

James let out a tired sigh and turned back towards the dwarf, who looked up at him with amazement clearly visible on his face. Walking towards the bald man, James bent down, offering his arm.

"Let's get the hell out of this place."

The dwarf looked around at their bloodied surroundings before clasping James' arm and getting to his feet. He gave a shaky nod.

"A-Aye."

AN: That's it folks! Somewhat gorier than my previous chapter, but as the confrontation with Barbossa draws near it is to be expected. Let me know what you think about my abilities to write fight/action scenes. No need to be gentle (though it would be far preferred), I'm trying to improve as much as possible and your feedback helps me with that.

Fun Fact: Industrial Light and Magic designers, reponsible for the visual effects of the PoC movie, scanned turkey jerky to create the effect of decomposing skin when the pirates turn into their skeletal forms. Appropriate for pirates who have run a-fowl of a nasty curse, eh? eh? Guys? No? Okay then... *goes off to sulk in a corner*