Nine years later...
The HMS Monarch fired its bow cannons at the ship ahead of them, a Dutch barque that had been commandeered by pirates in the Virgin Islands. The Royal Navy vessel had been pursuing it's target for weeks, and they had finally caught up with them.
"Put your backs into it, you low-lives! We're hunting pirates!" an officer barked at the sailors who were crewing below decks, trying to make the ship go as fast as it could. One sailor, however, chose not to aid his compatriots, and instead stuck his head out of the starboard side to get a good look at the pirate vessel. When he did, he saw that the ship was heading for a cloud of fog that seemed to have appeared from out of nowhere. As the Monarch sailed through the fog, something started to appear up in the distance. More and more of the fog cleared away until the sight of a small, rocky island with a cave in the one end was as plain as day. It had stalagmites and stalactites that resembled sharp teeth, and an eerie fog seemed to emanate from the mouth of the cave.
Henry had studied the legends and curses of the seas long enough to know what laid before them: The Devil's Triangle.
"Oh God," he muttered, knowing what lay before all of them. He had to do something. He had to do something before they all sailed to their deaths.
Henry then bolted across the lower decks of the ship in his desperate attempt to warn the Captain before it was too late. He even ignored the other sailors' pleas for him to get back to his post before he was caught. But he didn't care; this was a matter of life and death.
"Oi, you! Get back to your station, now!" the officer on the lower deck called after him, but Henry had already made his way above deck, where he saw Captain Toms and his subordinates at the helm of the ship.
Captain Toms looked at the enemy vessel through his telescope, his nose wrinkling at the sight of their Jolly Roger adorning a merchant ship. He then saw that the pirates were then headed for the cave, so he addressed his fellow officers and said "They're heading inland. Full speed ahead!"
"Wait!" Henry shouted, pushing his way past the other sailors above deck so he could make it to the helm, "Don't do it!"
Toms sighed, collapsing his telescope and turning to face the young sailor.
"We are in the pursuit of pirates, boy. Why shouldn't I sail after them?" Toms inquired, though condescendingly.
"With all due respect sir," Henry began, taking off his hat, "you're sailing us into the Devil's Triangle. We need to change course."
Toms began to chuckle, and then he said "You hear this, gentlemen? Young Turner here believes in an old sailor's tale!"
"Sir, I beseech you! I've spent my entire life researching all the stories of the sea. Every ship that's sailed into the Triangle has never sailed out again," Henry explained, "Trust in what I say. Change course before we all are killed!"
"You dare to give me orders, boy? I'm captain of this ship!" Toms shouted, "Guards! Arrest him!"
Before anyone could lay a hand on him, Henry knocked the helmsman away from the wheel and attempted to steer the ship away, shouting "I will not let you kill us all!"
Soon, however, Royal Marines came to the helm, and one of them hit Henry in the head with the butt of his gun, causing him to fall on the deck. When Henry looked up, he saw half a dozen muskets aimed right at him. The guards then hoisted him on his feet, and Toms came over and tore the sleeves of his coat.
"This is treason! I'll see you hanged for this!" Toms shouted, "Guards, lock him up!"
As they started to take him below deck, Henry could hear one of the officers saying, "Told you he was disturbed."
The guards took him to the brig and threw him in one of the holding cells, and one of the guards scolded, "This was your last chance, Turner!" just as he was locking it up.
Henry slowly got up off the ground, wiping blood from the cut on his lip he had received in the scuffle. As he stood up, he had seen that pieces of paper had fallen out of his pockets. Another prisoner, an old man, had picked up one of the papers off the floor from his adjacent cell, and started to read it.
"Jack Sparrow..." he trailed off, "He's dead. Died years ago. Buried in an unmarked grave."
"That's not true," Henry said, "He's alive. Very much so."
"In body perhaps, but Sparrow is dead," the old man continued, "He may continue to breathe air, but the man is long gone."
Henry gulped, not knowing what to make of what the old man said. Jack Sparrow was - is - the greatest pirate that ever lived. He has the ferocity of Blackbeard, the wit of Charles Vane, and the nobility of Stede Bonnet. At least, that's what he's heard. But Henry knows for certain what Jack was to his mother and father. He was their ally, their friend, their family. He knew that Jack was the only one who could help him break his father's curse.
But first, he had to find a way out of this mess.
Back above deck, Toms and the others saw the barque enter the mouth of the cave, and the Monarch followed in after it. However, the ship became engulfed in yet another eerie fog, and it was impossible to make out what was ahead of the British vessel.
One lieutenant looked over the edge of the port side and saw something in the water. It took a few seconds for him to realize that it was the Jolly Roger that adorned the barque just a few moments before. There were also splintered pieces of wood scattered throughout the water.
"Ship off the port bow!" one of the sailors called out, and up ahead in the distance, Toms could barely make out the outline of a ship hull in the distance. But as they drew nearer, it didn't look like the ship was operational. Instead, they saw an old and battered vessel with fallen masts and a breached hull.
"That's not a ship, sir! It's just a shipwreck!" one of the lieutenants called over to Captain Toms. But Toms wasn't convinced, for it looked like the "shipwreck" was sailing towards them.
"No," Toms began, "No, it's coming at us! All hands to battle stations!"
As the British were preparing for the assault of the incoming ship, they failed to take notice of the shadowy figures that seemed to be traversing their way across the water. But the odd thing was that though they impacted the surface of the water, they stayed atop. But they were anything but Christlike.
"Open fire!" Toms ordered, and the soldiers and sailors ignited their cannons and fired a massive broadside at the approaching ship. But the broadside did nothing for the ghostly ship kept coming closer and closer to the Monarch.
As the British stood shocked at watching the vessel take no further damage, they were suddenly attacked by a force that could only be described as unholy. They walked like men, but they looked like anything but. They wore black, charred clothing. Their skin pale and gaunt. Their flesh cold and rotting. Several body parts missing from where they should be but they functioned as if they were there. One of the ghostly figures was missing his head and continued to participate in the massacre of the troops. The British fought valiantly, but neither blade nor musket had made a lick of difference, as one by one the redcoats were slaughtered and not one of the undead monsters fell.
The battered ship eventually crashed into the Monarch, causing a massive breach to form in its hull. Soon, fire started to engulf the deck, and practically everyone on board had been killed. Two of the ghosts grabbed hold of Toms, and he saw a horrific sight in front of him. He saw another one of the ghosts, but it was walking forward with a limp, using a sword and scabbard as a crutch. His uniform looked charred and torn, and the three medals he wore over his left breast clinked together. His hair was long and wavy, but it floated slowly in the air like he were underwater or something. His face was also pale and gaunt, and what looked like black blood was oozing from his mouth.
The terrifying figure grabbed hold of Toms' throat and began to suffocate him, whereupon the British officer whimpered, "Wh- what are you?"
The ghost inhaled sharply for a moment, and then he opened his mouth, answering in a hoarse voice, "Death!"
He threw Toms into the fire, and the Captain screamed in agony as he burned to death.
Henry watched the whole thing unfold from below deck, and when he saw the monster murder his Captain, he backed up in horror, accidentally tripping over the piss bucket in his cell.
The ghostly crew heard the noise, and so they slowly made their way below deck, and Henry's eyes widened in pure terror as he saw them looking right at him. The old man in the cell next to him started to whimper, and one of the crew members came forward and stabbed him with his rapier. Their leader locked eyes with Henry, and he moved closer, getting close enough that now he was at the cell door. But it mattered little, since he simply passed through the bars and was now within arms' length of the boy.
He unsheathed his rapier from his scabbard and was poised to strike, but then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. Another one of the pieces of paper that Henry had in his pockets. Curious, the ghost stabbed the paper with his rapier and brought it to his face, just so he could get a good look.
He couldn't believe what he saw. All of his hatred was embodied on the lines of ink that had been printed on the paper. He looked older now. Much older. His face was beginning to show signs of age. He had acquired different attire in the years past. His clean face now covered with facial hair and an assortment of scars. This was the man that took everything from. Every fiber of his being yearned for blood at that very moment, wanting to taste the vengeance he so desperately craved.
"Jack Sparrow..." the ghost uttered in a Spanish accent, with menace in his tone as he rolled the "r" in his speech, "Jack Sparrow..."
He looked up at Henry, who was breathing heavily at the sight of him.
"Do you know this pirate?" the ghost inquired.
"O-only by name," Henry stammered.
The ghost began to study Henry, and then he asked, "You are looking for him, no?"
Henry silently nodded, afraid of what the ghost would do next.
"For many years, the Triangle has left us cursed, forever condemned to this Hell on Earth," the ghost said, gesturing to his crew, "We were trapped here by this bastardo. He damned us to this eternal prison, all of us mere shadows of our former selves. We can never leave this place. We are doomed to spend the rest of eternity in the darkness because of that monster. Unliving, undying, ever suffering."
Henry continued to pant deeply, and the ghost caught the look and said, "No, no. There's no need to fear me, boy. Tell me, what is your name?"
"H-Henry," he stammered.
"Henry... good name," the ghost smiled, and more blood oozed from his mouth, "I see you are a sailor, so you have a sense of honor about you. Don't worry, I always leave one man alive to tell the tale."
"What do you want from me?" Henry asked.
"Jack Sparrow is the key to our escape as much as he is the cause for our imprisonment," the ghost told, "Find Sparrow for me, and relay him a message from Capitán Salazar."
"A-Armando Salazar?" Henry inquired, "El Matador Del Mar?"
"The same," Salazar answered, "Now, when you find Sparrow, tell him this. Tell him that there will be a day where I will see daylight again. And on that day - death will come straight for him."
As he said this, he spat black blood on Henry's shirt, his voice ever menacing.
"Would you say that to him? Please?" Salazar asked, a sinister grin forming upon his face.
"Y-yes. Yes I will," Henry stammered.
"I wish I could say it to him myself, but..." Salazar began, "dead men tell no tales."
Henry removed his torn military jacket as the ghostly crew escorted him to a lifeboat, whereupon he got in and was lowered into the water as he began to paddle as fast as he could away from the Devil's Triangle.
He knew he needed to find Jack Sparrow as soon as possible before things got even worse.