A/N: Hello again. I've very clearly lost my mind over these characters but hey, more story for you to read at a more frequent basis, right? This is a mostly self-indulgent chapter before it ends up going dark toward the end (plot reasons for future chapters).

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Another long and empty day passed by at a crawl for the crew of the Silent Mary, to match the past several days that had gone by similarly with nothing but an open sea stretching before them. It was becoming more commonplace for the crew to come across no living souls for days on end, which meant those empty days were filled with nothing but the sight of one another. Clues had yet to be gleaned about a way to end their curse, and there would be no rest for any of them until that way was found. For the captain of the Flying Dutchman, who could grant them release from their torment, had let it be known he would do no such thing.

Armando Salazar, the Silent Mary's captain, had sealed his fate and that of his crew with his own words, to be doomed to sail the seas forever as they grasped for a freedom that was currently beyond their reach.

With one way to be at rest gone, there was nothing to occupy the Silent Mary's crew but to dwell on what could have been, and what could be, should they find some clue as to how to end their curse. There were, however, some things to be done on the Mary while they waited and watched for anything to be used to their advantage. As the broken and battered Silent Mary sailed unimpeded through rolling waves, it could be seen that there were some men currently making yet another futile attempt to clean the ship. Ignoring their blown apart appearances for the time being, the ghostly men scrubbed away at the deck beneath them, though their efforts would forever be in vain.

Skreee!

The other thing to be done on the Mary, while the crew whiled away time alternately keeping a lookout for telltale Jolly Rogers, or any leads regarding their curse, was to deal with the seagulls that hovered over the Silent Mary. No ideas had come to mind, so the crew left the screeching creatures overhead to their captain. Salazar appeared to hold some sway over the dead birds, as he had over the decaying sharks he had sent after Jack Sparrow years ago.

The birds were a motley assortment of tattered feathers and missing pieces of their bodies, and were otherwise stuck in a decaying state. It normally wouldn't be a bother, having those birds soar overhead, as they had for decades in the Devil's Triangle. But when they were finally free of it, the seagulls seemed to become more active, and even began to harass Salazar's men again as they had in the beginning of their death in the Triangle. The seagulls would suddenly swoop in with a broken-sounding cry from a mangled beak, and pluck a hat from the head of an officer. Or they would hover after the crew, and make a general nuisance of themselves. The crew had, for the most part, come to terms with their feathered, nearly skeletal companions, and merely picked up the hat where it had been dropped, or retrieved whatever else it was that the gulls may have briefly absconded with.

Salazar had had quite enough of it, and set about making an attempt to get the creatures to behave. Today was a good a day as any, as he had nothing better to do other than think dark thoughts about the state of his ship and crew. As the cursed captain limped across the deck to engage with some of the dead gulls, Salazar didn't realize he was being watched. His crew did not dare to point out that the beasts had little intelligence, so for their captain to make an attempt to reason with the birds as if they had human intelligence would be a thankless and likely infuriating task.

Lesaro kept to the helm as his captain passed him by, cane tapping against the deck as Salazar made his way to a group of gulls. These particular ones were preening their feathers on their frozen, falling apart bodies, a feather floating down now and again. The lieutenant couldn't help but crack a small smile at the sight.

Salazar shooed the seagulls away from the railing with a wave of his cane, muttering crossly in Spanish when the gulls merely alighted back on the railing further away. With what almost sounded like mocking calls from the seagulls, the birds resumed their preening. Salazar made a few more attempts before he tired of the game, as the gulls merely continued to settle a few feet away, apparently finding the cursed Spanish captain a nuisance themselves. Salazar leveled an icy glare at the birds for being so impertinent, when one of the braver, or perhaps stupider, gulls dared to flutter overhead. With almost careful precision, the gull dared to take a strand of hair from Salazar's head into its beak with an eerie screech.

The dead seagull looked entirely too pleased with itself as it let go and floated just out of reach of the cursed Spanish captain's hand when the limb rose as if to brush the bird away.

Salazar ground his teeth at the apparent mocking, and despite knowing that the birds weren't actively trying to drive him mad, the fact that a few chose to hover over him now and pluck at his floating hair did nothing to improve his mood. So, with a few half-skeletal birds hovering after him, Salazar limped toward the cabins, thinking to escape from the madness for a time. With a wheeze and cough of black blood, Salazar half-turned, his back to the cabin door in order to observe the sea for a brief moment.

Nothing was there.

With Salazar's attention on the sea, he failed to notice, or sense, the ghostly cracked hands that phased out of the cabin wall behind him, followed by a grinning ghost, one Officer Moss.

Moss, who had grown bored of the past few days of inactivity, had decided that today was they day he would go about trying to scare fellow crew-mates again. He made two mistakes then and there. The first was by not seeing who it was he had grabbed from behind. The second was not heeding the horrified looks on the other ghosts' faces within the vicinity as he pulled his victim for the day backward through the cabin wall.

Yet when Moss let go and heard a blade being drawn, he knew something had gone very wrong. Moss thought to get out of sight, yet he was was pinned in place with baleful eyes that burned into him as a rapier rose between himself and a wheezing ghost.

Salazar.

Officer Moss had accidentally pulled his captain through a cabin wall, and from the look on his captain's face, and the bared teeth with black blood, there was no good reason he could offer for his actions. So, with a nervous laugh that sounded like a hiss, Moss spoke what came to mind.

"Hola, capitan. Ah...beunos dias?" Moss was babbling at this point, only getting himself into further trouble with every word he spoke, "Como estas hoy?"

Had Officer Moss had a beating heart, it would have raced at the snarl that implanted itself on his captain's face. Apparently Salazar was already in a very poor mood and Moss had ended up only making it worse.

"C..capitan...l...lo siento." Moss stammered as his captain loomed closer, blade still drawn.

-x-x-x-

Silence reigned on the deck, with Lesaro looking upward at the heavens while the rest of the crew looked to be torn between horror and amusement, though they dared not laugh. All aboard the Silent Mary knew that their captain would not take kindly to Officer Moss's chosen form of entertainment.

Lesaro was quick to leave the helm, and not bothering with the door, merely walked through the cabin wall. Quickly assessing the situation, the lieutenant none to subtly placed himself between Officer Moss and a highly displeased, wheezing Salazar brandishing his rapier.

Salazar, who had been speaking harshly in rapid Spanish, had had to briefly stop now and again to wheeze and cough out black blood, which had caused Moss to flinch back, before the tirade began anew.

"Capitan?" Lesaro interrupted the scolding his captain was giving Officer Moss. "I believe I mentioned to you yesterday, sir, that the men had not much to do these past many years?" Lesaro remained calm even as his captain's angry glare turned to him. Lesaro tactfully did not point out the black blood pooling around his captains' mouth, nor the way it was dripping down, giving him a more ghastly appearance.

"Dragging officers through the wall is not an appropriate form entertainment." Salazar hissed in return. "They are not boys, lieutenant. Scaring the other officers with this curse of ours is not right. What happened to the order on this vessel?"

"What else would you have them do, sir?" Lesaro said, still calm as his eye met Salazar's own, "We have nothing, capitan, nothing to engage with on the Mary apart from each other. We cannot tell one another stories any longer, for we have all heard them one too many times to derive any enjoyment out of them. There is nothing to do but stare out to sea, or walk across the decks of the Silent Mary, wishing that we were free of this curse of ours."

"That is no excuse to be acting as he has." Salazar pointed his rapier at Officer Moss, who shrank back against the cabin wall, looking very much like he would love for the floor swallow him up. Which, technically, could happen, should he allow his body to sink through to the deck below. But with his captain's furious stare once more on him, Moss appeared to be frozen through sheer intimidation alone, fearing what Salazar intended to do with him.

"Capitan, there is no harm done. Let the men find ways to amuse themselves, sir, lest we all go mad." Lesaro stated, bringing his captain's attention back to him, which allowed Officer Moss time to realize that he could slip away. The officer quickly did so by phasing out the wall of the cabin behind him.

Salazar made as if to walk past Lesaro, but stilled when his lieutenant reached over and gently halted him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Please, capitan. Do not punish the crew for trying to find ways to make this curse of ours bearable."

Salazar's jaw set, clearly not liking the fact that order was slipping away aboard the Silent Mary. Salazar tapped his rapier against the deck in thought, silent, before a wheezing sigh escaped his lips as as his head dipped in a jerky nod. The cursed captain's free hand reached up to stubbornly, if futilely, remove the black blood from his lips.

"Pirates starboard!" A shout echoed from outside of the cabin.

Salazar's attention was instantly diverted, and he limped out of the cabin, shouting orders in Spanish, and sounding quite pleased that there was a hunt to be had.

Lesaro remained in the cabin for a short time, relieved over his captain's obsession to hunt pirates, as it made Salazar set aside Officer Moss' actions for the time being in favor of chasing down a pirate ship. Lesaro exited the cabin to await his captain's orders, and vaguely thought to speak with Officer Moss later, to warn the man to make certain that if he were going to continue his antics, to be sure that it was not their captain he was trying to startle.

-x-x-x-

The Silent Mary closed in on the pirate chip, a slightly bigger vessel than they had come across the past few months. These particular pirates were a bit better in terms of fighting, because they did not immediately fall to the blades of Salazar's men. Instead, the priates fought like the devil to try and avoid being slashed or stabbed by the apparitions they saw before them.

Officer Moss, for one, was actually relieved to have something to fight, because he was having a hard time shaking off his captain's furious expression and equally angry words over his actions earlier.

"You are still in one piece." A voice stated, a hint of amusement mixed in with the words. "I thought for sure the capitan was going to try and find a way to deal with what could be insubordination."

Officer Moss turned from a pirate he'd just stabbed to fix a frown on the speaker, Officer Santos. Moss let out a soft scoff as he went after another pirate, Santos keeping pace with him. "It is not my fault that the capitan has no appreciation for humor."

"He doesn't have much appreciation of anything apart from a blade across a pirate's throat." Santos replied, as he pivoted and took a pirate down with a perfectly timed downward slash, blood blossoming from the wound as the grievously injured pirate hit the deck. Ignoring the dying scream, Santos brought his attention back to his fellow officer. "Do you think that killing these pirates will make him overlook your actions?"

"Why are you bringing this up now?" Moss demanded as he back-stepped out of the way of a braver pirate who was actually fighting back, "I thought you said you didn't care what I did so long as I didn't stick my hand through that hole in your abdomen again?" Moss had accidentally stuck an arm through the hole in Santos' abdomen some years ago when dragging his fellow officer through a wall, and Santos had not taken to the sight of an arm through his body well.

"Perhaps I would like to converse with you one last time before the capitan gets a hold of you." Santos blocked another pirate's sloppy attack, parrying the living man's blade a few times before running him through.

"We are dead, amigo." Moss grumbled as he finished off the pirate in front of him off with a blade through the heart. "What could the capitan possibly do to any of us, apart from yell and scare us with all of that black blood that comes out of his mouth?"

"Do not let him hear you say that." Santos cautioned as he looked around to see how the rest of the crew was faring against the pirates. "He will not take kindly to a reminder of the strike to his head and the troubles it still causes him in death." Santos lowered his gaze briefly to his middle, before looking away from it, clearly uncomfortable seeing it.

"Your face isn't as badly cracked as mine is." Officer Moss said, waving the hand not holding the blade at his face.

"I have some cracks. Those explosions didn't leave many of us untouched." Santos thwacked Moss' shoulder with the flat of his blade. "And you should notbe complaining in the least because your clothes are very much in tact. Be happy you are not Juan."

Moss shook his head at the very thought, "Shame he only has a hand and hat left." There was a pause as a hint of mischief crossed Officer Moss' face. "I wonder if I could drag him through a wall."

"You might get a laugh out of him, for the mere fact that you would be dragging a near invisible man through a wall." Santos brought up his blade. "On your left."

Moss brought his own sword up in response, blocking the swing of yet another pirate's blade. As Moss began to exchange parries with the yellowed grin of the pirate in his vision, the officer realized that the filthy individual actually believed he could defeat a ghost.

It was laughable, really.

Santos said something quietly in Spanish before he joined Moss by his side, lunging toward the pirate with practiced swings of his blade.

The two ghostly officers were taken aback that the pirate was holding his own against the two of them, parrying their blades as Moss and Santos took turns slashing at the living man. With an exchanged glance, the two ghosts began to press their attacks, getting closer and closer to nicking the pirate with each strike, and driving the pirate further across the deck of the now burning pirate galleon. Whenever the pirate launched an attack of his own, Officer Moss and Officer Santos stepped back out of range with practiced ease despite the fact that the blade would cause them no harm.

With one last look between them, Santos began to circle around the pirate, forcing the struggling man to try and parry both blades, which became increasingly difficult once Santos made it behind him. Boxed between the two ghosts, the pirate's swings became desperate as well as frantic as he struggled to stop swift strikes that came at him from both front and behind. It was clear that a few seconds of parrying blades from two different directions was wearing the pirate down.

Officer Moss spotted an opening some moments later, and broke through the pirate's now sloppy blocks to stab the man in the chest, as Santos brought the blade across the pirate's throat from behind and slit his throat. Moss tugged his blade free and with a sound of exasperation shoved the gurgling pirate over to choke on his own blood. Satisfied that the pirate would soon bleed out, Moss offered a grin to Santos over their teamwork.

"Behind you." Santos cautioned.

Moss started when a pirate, who had somehow managed to sneak up behind him, stabbed him. It didn't hurt the ghostly officer in the least bit, but the fact that it had been allowed to happen upset Moss enough that Santos was forced to step froward a few paces to strike the pirate down himself.

"At least we are dead so we cannot be harmed." Santos offered as he sheathed his blade.

"That would have been enough to kill me, were I still alive." Moss rattled back, still rather upset. Most unfortunately, Moss didn't realize that his captain had witnessed the misstep, and would soon address it, likely as part of a retaliation for Moss dragging him backward into a cabin earlier. His captain shouting from aft on the pirate ship for them to come to attention made Moss cringe and make a face.

"Don't let the capitan see that expression either." Santos commented as he thumped the other man on the shoulder again as he walked by, going to stand with the other ghostly officers who were already standing at attention.

With a frown, Moss shuffled after his fellow officer, removing his hat as he did, half wondering why their captain even bothered with this anymore. Not one of them, including Officer Moss, dared to ask Salazar his reason. They merely followed his orders, and waited patiently as Salazar prowled up and down the line, rapier sharply tapping against the deck.

"Straighten that line." Salazar ordered as he moved along, wheezing his displeasure over the tattered and broken appearance of his crew.

The ghosts complied as much as they were able to, though there was not much they could do to clean up any of their appearances, what with their shattered appearances and missing limbs. Even in death Salazar had high standards, and none could be met in their cursed state. He had to have known it, but chose to ignore the facts, as he had to have some semblance of control.

Reaching out now and again to straighten the clothes on his crew, Salazar finally came to halt before Moss, leaning against his rapier as he looked the other ghost dead in the eye.

"I will not tolerate a pirate getting the best of one of my officers." Ignoring the beginning of a protest from Officer Moss, Salazar turned to Lesaro, who had come to stand by his side. "Once we have returned to the Silent Mary, all of the crew will practice. Death should not be a cause for sloppiness or rusty skills, despite nothing able to harm us but dry land."

"I was doing well before you saw that." Moss muttered rebelliously, visibly sulking, though he quieted once he noticed that his captain had half-turned to regard him. Salazar's expression all but dared him to continue.

"Please do not argue with the capitan." Santos murmured to Moss. "It would be good to spar and brush up on our skills."

"That pirate was able to sneak up on me." Moss murmured, still displeased with himself. "I should have noticed his approach."

Santos waited until their captain made a motion for them all to leave the pirate ship and return to the Mary. As the crew followed after their captain in a ghostly wave of missing limbs and floating clothes, Santos patted Moss' shoulder lightly, not saying anything, yet conveying that he understood his fellow officer's frustrations. Once the crew was back on their own ship, Lesaro wasted no time in issuing his captain's order.

"To the downed mast. We will gather there." Lesaro stepped aside to allow some of the crew to drift where directed, and soon, they reached the middle of the Silent Mary, near the broken mast that trailed in the water.

"I presume the capitan will watch us, and not take part in practicing blade-work." Moss grumbled.

"Did you say something, Officer Moss?" Lesaro questioned as he walked down the stairs to join the rest of the crew.

"No lieutenant." Moss cringed at the one eyed glare he received in return, indicating that Lesaro must have heard him. Moss went back to sulking, and even with Officer Santos' repeated whispers of reassurance, Moss couldn't' help but feel singled out. The ghost wondered if it had anything to do with catching his captain unaware and dragging him through the cabin wall earlier.

It was very likely.

"Back up there. Move." Salazar ordered as he limped down the stairs, before he launched into a series of instructions in Spanish as he stood in the loose ring that had formed on the deck. With a quick glance around at his men, Salazar zeroed in on Moss, and beckoned the officer forward. A few murmurs went around the gathered ghosts, and Moss stood rooted to the spot, not sure if he had heard his captain correctly. Surely he didn't want him to fight-

"Officer Moss." Salazar let out a coughing wheeze, blood dripping out of his mouth as he rasped out a few sharp words, rapier tapping against the deck impatiently as one word made it out past the garbled ones filled with blood. "Forward."

"Si, capitan." Moss was not about to argue, even if he did draw his blade a bit reluctantly, displeased that it did seem as if he were being punished for his earlier actions. Officer Moss became nervous when Lesaro drew his own weapon at a nod from their captain.

Salazar circled the two ghostly men as they begin to exchange strikes, watching with sharp eyes for any errors. The cursed Spanish captain frowned when Santos joined in without being told to. Just as Salazar thought to order him back, he realized that when the other ghost was by Moss' side, the two officers appeared to become in tune with one another as they took turns launching attacks their lieutenant's way.

Lesaro compensated for the second officer by blocking and thrusting at intervals, doing his best to keep both of the men in front of him, and to not allow one to circle behind him.

As Moss and Santos drove Lesaro backward toward the broken mast, Santos broke point from Moss' side in order to get in behind their lieutenant. When Lesaro snapped his blade up to block a downward swing from Moss, it successfully drew his attention a second too long from Santos, allowing the officer to slip past him. Santos came in from behind Lesaro as he brought his blade from beneath Lesaro's right arm to bring the steel across the lieutenant's throat. In the same instant, Moss smacked Lesaro's blade to one side with a heavy strike as Santos gripped the lieutenant's left arm, Moss's blade tip lightly resting against Lesaro's chest.

The crew murmured appreciatively at the sight while Salazar nodded his approval. "It appears I may have misspoken about your skills being rusty. What then caused you to become caught unaware by a pirate?"

"I was too focused on killing the pirate, sir." Moss stepped away from Lesaro as he let his blade point down as Santos similarly released the lieutenant. Moss absently let his sword swing back and forth, before he added. "I should have held off celebrating our victory, to be certain that all the pirates were dead."

Salazar again nodded as he accepted the explanation, clearly understanding the need for victory. "Be that as it may, I still want to see every man practice for a time." Satisfied when he saw the crew begin to pair off with one another, Salazar sheathed his blade and, leaning against his cane for support, limped up to the helm. The cursed Spanish captain stopped short when he saw Lesaro standing before his with his blade still drawn.

"You should get some practice in as well, capitan." Lesaro indicated the helm with a vague wave of a hand. "There is no land is sight, so the Mary can be left unattended for a time.

Salazar made his way over to one side of the deck in order to lean his cane against the railing. With a growl, Salazar forced his broken body to turn around despite the telltale sign of a hip daring to try to lock up on him. Wheezing out some blood in a humorless laugh at the state he was in, Salazar drew his rapier once more, and limped back toward his lieutenant. Raising his weapon, Salazar lightly tapped his blade against Lesaro's in acknowledgement of the other man's words, before awkwardly back-stepping and saluting his lieutenant.

Lesaro mirrored his captain's salute with one of his own, before he began to move, the two men circling one another with a quick strike of a blade here and there to test the waters. The two ghosts silently sized one another up for a few moments longer, neither noticing that the crew had left off what they were doing in order to watch the fight.

With a quick lunge forward, Salazar nearly struck Lesaro's side but the lieutenant quickly dropped his blade down to block the sudden strike.

"Well done." Salazar complimented, even as he moved in closer with a limping gait to land several strikes, steel ringing out against steel as Lesaro met each of his captain's attacks. The approval came and went as they exchanged blows, until finally, Salazar had no words left, as he was soon solely focused on trying to get through his lieutenant's defenses. Salazar didn't even bother to stop what he was doing when it became clear that the crew could no longer remain silent, and the cheering became audible, the ghostly crew clearly enjoying the sight of their captain and lieutenant locked in mock combat. Now and again the two would dance away from the other's strikes, though Lesaro's movements were more flowing compared to Salazar's jerkier and less graceful movements.

Salazar was a strong swordsman, but due to his broken body in death, and the way it hindered the movement of his legs, he had a hard time stepping out of range of Lesaro, who had no such handicap. Salazar wheezed his frustration as he ground his teeth and continued to parry Lesaro's weapon, heedless of the black blood that oozed out of his mouth. Salazar soon stumbled when one of his hips locked up on him, as he thought it might before. The cursed Spanish captain knew in that moment that Lesaro would take advantage of his moment of weakness, and acted accordingly. As Lesaro closed in, Salazar pivoted his body to the left, in order to miss Lesaro's swing, and his hand snapped up to grip the other man's left arm tight. With a practiced ease, Salazar tugged the limb behind his lieutenant's back as Salazar's right hand brought his rapier up to rest across Lesaro's throat.

All movement ceased on deck, the crew watching with great interest over what Lesaro would choose to do next.

Lesaro made as if to release his blade in surrender, but when Salazar moved back a bit to get better leverage, his right hand moved the blade away a fraction from the other ghost's throat. Lesaro wasted no time as he turned around and brought his sword up between himself and his captain, blade to Salazar's throat.

There was a tense stare-down between captain and lieutenant, before it was broken as a blade tip suddenly pressed against Salazar's back, diverting the wheezing ghosts' attention to those around him.

Magda had joined in while their captain's back had been to them all, and the ghostly officer stood there, his expression serious. What soon became apparent was that he wished to smile, especially when the rest of the crew laughed at the unexpected turn of events. It became just as quickly quiet, the whole crew of ghosts watching their captain nervously, as if hoping there would be no retribution for laughing. It wasn't every day they saw their captain at a disadvantage, and at the hands of his own crew at that.

"It seems everyone, myself included, needs more practice, eh?" Salazar let out a gurgling laugh, for once finding the situation amusing, which was a relief to the entire crew. The tense mood vanished in an instant, and the men began murmuring to one another about what they had just witnessed. Salazar lowered his rapier, and leaned against it as he forced his body into motion to face Magda. "Lieutenant, take the helm." Salazar said, his eyes still on the other officer.

At the sight of that glare through floating hair, Magda beat a hasty retreat, trying to find a better space to get into a fight with his captain. Eyes flashing, Salazar ground out a few choice words in Spanish before he limped in pursuit of the officer.

Lesaro sheathed his weapon and took the helm as ordered, though he did check behind him, and shook his head at the sight of his captain catching up to Officer Magda. Blade in hand, Salazar began exchange blows with the other ghost, obviously displeased over being caught unaware. Shaking his head once more, Lesaro looked away and focused on the seas before him.

At the very least, sparring was something that could take Salazar's mind off the thought of chasing down and killing more pirates. Lesaro felt that the day was going better, as the seas becoming calmer as they traveled, until a few hours later when everything began to go wrong. It was then that Lesaro began to note the fog that had begun to settle in around them, and though he knew that they were nowhere near the waters where they had witnessed the vision of Jack Sparrow alive, something about it was eerily similar. The further the Silent Mary went into the fog, the more unnerved Lesaro became, and at the feeling of impending doom, felt it necessary to call his captain's attention to it.

"Capitan, there is something...wrong."

Salazar was at the helm in an instant, having heard his lieutenant. Salazar took the other man seriously as he scoured the foggy sea and with a frown, began to question Lesaro.

"We are not in those waters again, are we?" Salazar asked, referencing what Lesaro had been thinking about before.

"No, sir. We are far away from that." Lesaro stood aside to let his captain take the helm. "It...this all feels wrong. I am not sure what to make of it."

The crew had gathered nearby, and a few of them had begun to voice their unease as well.

"It almost seems colder."

"How can you tell?"

"Is this another cursed area of the sea?"

"We will chart another course." Salazar assured his crew.

"Sir, the fog is becoming denser." Lesaro called out in warning.

Salazar gripped the wheel tight, trying to will himself to be able to see through the fog, lest he run the ship aground and destroy everyone aboard, himself included. He sailed cautiously, turning the wheel hand over hand, and took the Mary in a new direction.

Hopefully.

It was hard to tell if they were headed in another direction or not, mired in fog as they were. Salazar let out a sudden laugh, blood dripping freely from the corners of his mouth as he smiled, pleased when he spotted the fog beginning to thin. Carefully turning the Silent Mary in that direction, Salazar guided the ship through the now thinning fog. A shadow seemed to flit through the fog, but it was hard to tell, until Salazar felt a solid something pass him by, along with the unnerving sound of unfamiliar words spoken in a quiet yet sinister tone.

The fog suddenly lifted, and in its place, startlingly familiar scenery took its place.

Burning pirate ships in the sea surrounded them, and the sky was filled with smoke. And through that smoke, Salazar could make out one ship sailing just out of reach, toward a familiar rocky formation, the triangle shape ominous as it loomed ahead in the distance.

The Devil's Triangle.

Salazar heard himself shouting orders to follow the ship in, and found that he could do nothing but watch, trapped in his somehow living body, as the past suddenly began to unfold before his very eyes. And it appeared, from the frightened eyes of those he could see, his whole crew was experiencing what he was.

They were reliving their past by some unknown means, the breeze whipping past them and the smell of gunpowder in the air as vivid as it had been all those decades ago. Even though Salazar knew that he should have been frightened over this impossible vision, he couldn't help but be wistful at the sight of the Silent Mary in her full glory, and he and his men whole and undamaged by explosions.

Uniform and perfect, as he liked it.

Yet as Salazar felt himself grip the wheel as the pirate ship Jack was on turned out of the way of the Devil's Triangle, Salazar didn't see Jack. He didn't see the younger pirate as he strut confidently across the deck of his ship, condemning the Spanish crew to a terrible fate.

All Salazar saw was death.

And as he felt his own head turn to focus on the looming darkness of the Devil's Triangle, Salazar knew that they would soon sail straight into rocks that would tear apart the hull of the ship. Try as he might to safely guide the Mary along, Salazar knew it was impossible, and couldn't help but feel helpless that he couldn't do anything to prevent what was about to happen to them all.

Again.

The awful grinding sound of rock tearing into the wooden hull of Mary sounded as the ship sailed straight into the mouth of the Devil's Triangle, and as the first explosion went off, the screams began. The cries were worse this time around, because all aboard knew what was coming, and there was nothing they could do but experience their first deaths in all its excruciating agony as the Devil's Triangle devoured them again.

-x-x-x-

In the darkness, a large shape moved about, barely leaving any ripples behind as it patiently swam in a circle around the destruction that was being wrought in its victim's minds. Hungry eyes watched and waited for the opportune moment to strike, as it allowed its newest victims to become further ensnared in the past.

Anyone that sailed into this particular creature's stretch of sea would pay with their very being, whether they be dead or alive. If the sailors were living, then the creature would feast on their flesh, delighting in the screams as the sailors died a bloody and painful death. If the sailors were already dead, the creature would devour their souls, watching as their dead bodies became mere husks, to be swept away on the wind or vanish entirely had they no corporeal form. It mattered not to the creature which it feasted on, as it was the same result in the end. Sustenance. A pair of large eyes glittered malevolently as the creature continued to swim along.

Watching, and waiting.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

A/N: Salazar: 0, Dead seagulls: 1.

I do feel like the crew being trapped for so long in the dark of the Devil's Triangle would make them slowly lose their minds, and I liked that Salazar could manipulate those dead sharks, so why not the dead seagulls (when they're not being little shits. If they were alive they would definitely be stealing food instead of clothing items).

I have a head-canon that Officer Moss switches to speaking in only Spanish when he is panicking. And yes, Salazar does not take kindly to being pulled through cabin walls (Also, having Moss and Santos fight together in this chapter was based off something I saw on a Tumblr post where the actors of the characters where practicing sword fighting against another person. It would have been really neat if they had been able to include that in the movie because it was cool to watch). Also, when I used to fence, you saluted your opponent before a bout. I don't know if the same would be applied to Spanish navy men when sparring, but as this is a fictional story, I figured I could take some liberties.

Longer chapter because it may take until next weekend to get the next chapter hammered out and readable (and to do a little more research).