If his heart wasn't possessed by his rage, he'd become a witch. A witch in the form of a man. A witch that flew at 2 AM in the morning. But he'd abstain from his hunger until he found her. Anna, whom he loved even as a charred ghost. if he could become a witch flying in the night he would gladly sweep her off her feet, where he'd take her back to his house on the hills. There he'd sit her on his lap and forever drown her in kisses upon her chest so close to her beating heart that he could taste it.
Armando Salazar was a man of few regrets. He only had three: The regret to save his mother's life and The lives of his men. But the one he regretted dearly was leaving Anna in a life where he could no longer dance with her. Forever was he trapped to the possession of Cetus in their clutches of infectious wrath. Oh, what he would give to become a witch if it meant being alive for Anna and to taste her love again. To dance with her passion and fight with her courage. To be drowned by her songs was eternal bliss, now her memories live in the songs she sang with the crew of witches, blackbirds, and weeping women. They were the very ones the men sing now, on dark nights and sorrowful mornings. Oh, how'd he give his soul to Davy Jones and Calypso if it meant he could give his heart to the goddess in the shape of Anna de Baliza.
To become a witch was surely a less painful existence, to fly rather than be trapped. To consume to lives of others than be devoid of his charred body and taking the lives of others, pirate and naval alike, only to leave them in the sea. He was dead, but curses to the gods that play with the earth for the continual stabbing of his heart. Damn them all. Damn every single one of the humans and gods that play war.
When he broke from Cetus's infection when he could be free from the devil's triangle, he would sail back to his weeping woman, he'd sail the night and use the stars to find her again.
If only he and his could become carnal witches over decayed ghosts, then he could fly back to Anna, back to his weeping woman and hear her songs, drowning in her love over drowning in hate that the Demon Cetus has now drowned him in, consuming his decayed body with the crimson rage of the ancient devil. Even now as the demon's claws ripped Salazar's remains from the inside out within the dark, how the rage burned him, with ashes scattering his body. His men have pieces of Cetus, as the demon called himself. But out of all of them, the demon took hold of him his claws.
But he would keep fighting the demon as Anna had fought her demons in the sea. He promised he would come back to her. He had to so that he could drown in the sea of her. Her heart, her blood, and her very soul were the things he craved, the very things he could consume if he became a witch and stepped on land once more.
Once more, he could go back to being the Matador to his Weeping Woman in a forever tomorrow..
I wrote this late at night thanks to going back and rewatching Dead Men Tell No Tales. There are a couple of names that don't make sense, and it's ok if you're confused. I'd rather this exists than allow any more of what 's in my head to stay stagnant and let it come alive in a year or so. Thank you for reading this and I hope you are having a good morning/Night. See you later neighbor.
-Kade