As Jack exited his cabin, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, letting the cool night air run along his lungs. He exhaled slowly, the air exiting with naught but a whisper. Opening his eyes, he looked up into the night sky to see it filled with stars shining brightly, and if it were any other night he would've acknowledged it's beauty outright.

But not tonight.

Jack walked up the small set of steps leading to the helm to find that the wheel had been rigged to maintain course, and also the sleeping form of Gibbs lying down on a bag of hardtack towards the stern, clutching a bottle of rum. Jack, brow furrowed, walked over to his first mate and gave him a light kick on the shin, causing Gibbs' eyes to snap open as he sat up quickly saying, "Devil curse you, ya mangy cur!"

He looked up to see Jack standing above him, and said "Oh, sorry, Captain. I didn't know it was you. You know, it's bad luck to wake a man while he's sleepin'."

"Yeah, yeah, bad luck..." Jack said, voice trailing off as he looked away, "Is this why you didn't wake me at nightfall when I was explicit in my communiqué?"

"Aye, Captain," Gibbs said, standing up, "but, you looked to be thrashin' in your sleep so I didn't want to wake ya. Is everything alright with ya, Jack? You seem to be off-kilter as of late. Well, more than usual I should say."

"It's nothing, drop it," Jack said, with a slight irritation in his voice. He was concerned about this thrashing in his sleep. What was going on with him? What was with these dreams he kept having? And why now?

"If there's anything I can do-" Gibbs began, but Jack cut him off saying, "What you can do is drop it, Mr. Gibbs."

Gibbs looked forlorn at Jack's irritable attitude, and said, "Aye, Captain. By the way, you should know that the girl put us on the proper course while you were sleepin', and the Turner lad was asking for you a little bit ago. Should I go and get him?"

"Yeah, whatever," Jack bluntly responded, snatching the bottle of rum from Gibbs' grasp. Gibbs looked in surprise for a moment, concerned as to what was going on with Jack, but then walked back towards the crew's quarters so he could fetch Henry.

Jack sat down on the bag of hardtack and began to chug down the rum. With each swig, Jack let the alcohol burn the back of his throat, and he concentrated on the sting so that he could push out all of the things clouding his head, things he simply wanted to forget.

"Pirate's life," Jack utters to himself, getting more drunk with every moment, "Pirate's life."

When he finished the bottle, he held it in his hands for a moment, eyeing the transparent green glass and turning it over in his hands. He didn't know what caused it, but his temper started to flare up looking at the empty bottle, his cheeks turning a shade of red and his teeth gritting together, and then he threw the bottle down onto the deck where it smashed into a hundred pieces.

Jack huffed heavily, seeing what he'd done, and then brought his knees up to his chest and set his arms across the top of them. He buried his head in his arms for a moment, and then he raised himself up again. Looking across the helm to it's starboard side, Jack saw a guitar lying there. He had picked it up one night from a tavern in Tortuga, and decided that he might one day learn how to play it. Like dad.

Jack got up from his spot and grabbed the guitar from where it was laying. Sitting back down on the sack, Jack began to fiddle with the strings for a moment, and then he started to play a tune that he had heard one time, but he didn't remember where from:

"There ain't no grave... can hold my body down," Jack sang in a low voice, "Ain't no grave can hold my body down."

He began to strum along with more confidence, and as he started to, Henry came up from below deck just in time to hear him playing.

"When I hear that trumpet sound, I'm gonna rise right out of the ground," Jack continued, "Ain't no grave can hold my body down. Well, look way down the river, and what do you think I see? I see a band of angels, and they're comin' after me. Ain't no grave can hold my body down."

Jack continued to play, and then he looked up for a moment to see that Henry was standing before him, eyes darting from the glass on the deck to Jack on the guitar and back again. His gaze focusing on Jack, who had stopped playing, Henry said, "I didn't know you could play."

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Henry," Jack said, setting the guitar down as he got up with a drunken wobble.

"Are you drunk?" Henry asked, piecing together Jack's odd behavior with the broken glass, and Jack replied, "Maybe. I'll need another bottle before I'm sure."

Jack tried to walk away, but before he could walk down the steps, Henry reached his arm out and turned Jack back towards him, saying "I think you've had enough for one day, Jack."

Jack laughed, saying "Boy, when you get to be my age, enough is never enough."

Henry sighed, and said "Not when there's a task at hand that needs to be completed. Salazar is probably after us right now, and you're just sitting here doing nothing, drinking and playing music?"

"You call that nothing?" Jack inquired with a grin, "I'm doing two things at once according to you. Besides, we're on course anyway, right? So let me go about my business."

Jack tried to walk away again, but Henry quickly pulled out a sword from one of the weapon barrels and pointed it right at the pirate, freezing him in place.

"What business? Drinking excessively and wallowing in self-pity? Perhaps Carina's right about you," Henry said, pointing the weapon from low at Jack's chest, "Like it or not Jack, you're going to help me break my father's curse."

Jack, though frozen in place from Henry's threat, looked undisturbed by the sword mere inches away from his chest. He looked from the blade back to Henry, and then said "You've never held a sword before, have you boy?"

"Wait, what?" Henry asked, not anticipating the response, "Of course I have."

"Your wrist is locking into place, mate," Jack advised, "Your grip on the handle's too tight. Lighten it."

Puzzled, Henry nevertheless did as Jack said and let his grip on the sword go slightly.

"Very good," Jack commended, "Now, square the pummel. Let the blade be more level."

Henry eyed Jack with curiosity, and then did as he was told and let the sword become more level between the two instead of angled like before.

"Much better," Jack complimented with a smile, and then he took the tip of the blade and put it lightly against his chest. As Henry wondered what Jack was doing, Jack outstretched his arms, and with a smile said "Run me through."

Henry's face scrunched up, asking "What?"

"You look like a strong enough lad if you can hold up a sword to me," Jack taunted, "so go ahead. Your first murder. Happy to be a part of it."

"I've killed men before," Henry said with as much confidence as he could muster.

"No, you haven't," Jack said, his smile dissipating as his brow furrowed, "You're young. You've never had to experience what it is to take another man's life. Everything he was, is, and ever will be, snuffed out forever, and all that's left of him is a pool of blood and a rotting corpse."

Henry's eyes widened in fear, and his hand holding onto the sword began to tremble lightly. Jack took notice of this and grabbed hold of the blade again, this time pressing it closer to the flesh over his heart.

"But you look like a big man," Jack said, "Go on. Do it. I deserve it anyway, me being the filthy, wretched pirate I am."

Henry's breath began to pick up, and he saw that Jack had put enough pressure on the blade that it had cut into his chest very lightly, with a small amount of blood coming out and coating the tip.

"Maybe I'm not a pirate," Henry said, trying to assert control, "But you're wrong if you think that I wouldn't do it if it meant saving my father."

Jack's hands moved away from the blade and said, "And you're wrong if you think that I'd actually let you."

As he finished, Henry heard the sound of a hammer cocking back, and he saw that Jack had pulled out his pistol and was pointing it right at him. He looked back up at Jack, who was starting to smile again, and then said "Next time you raise a sword, boy, you better be ready to use it."

Henry pulled the sword away from Jack's chest, and then dropped it on the deck. Jack subsequently holstered his pistol. Henry was disturbed by what had just transpired, just as much as he had when he met Salazar.

"It's clear to me that you have none of your father's technique with a blade," Jack commented, "I take it that mummy raised you not to fight, yes?"

"Well, yes," Henry replied faintly.

"What weapons do you know how to use, Henry?" Jack asked.

"Well," Henry thought for a moment, "I know how to clean a cannon, I can shoot a musket-"

"That's good then," Jack said, "There should be a Brown Bess in one of those barrels. If we come across any resistance, I need you ready to fight. And it's obvious that swords are not your specialty, so I guess guns will have to do."

"Wait," Henry said, confused, "you just gave me this whole lecture about killing, and now you're telling me to fight?"

"You need to be prepared for when the time comes, Henry," Jack answered, "I won't always be there to protect you. You never set out with intent to kill someone, but if it comes between you and the other guy, make sure it's you, savvy?"

"Yeah, sure," Henry answered, and Jack patted his shoulder, saying "Good. Because your mother would kill me again if I let anything happen to you."

"That's understa-" Henry began, but then he thought he had misheard Jack, and then asked, "Wait, again?"

"What, Elizabeth didn't tell you?" Jack inquired, taking his hand off the boy's shoulder to which Henry replied, "No, she didn't."

"Well, it's a long story, and will sound so much better coming from her. God, I can imagine the look on her face right now," Jack finished with a chuckle, and then said, "You know, you look a lot like your parents when they were your age. That was when I knew them."

"Really?" Henry asked.

"Yeah," Jack replied, "You definitely have your mother's hair, though you do look more like your father in the face. Both had brown eyes."

"I've only seen my father a few times," Henry said, "I can't be sure if I'm remembering his face correctly, but you're probably right."

Jack laughed again and looked away, remembering the adventures he had with Will and Elizabeth. He didn't realize it at the time, but some of the best adventures he ever had was with them. There was definitely tension between them when it came to them trusting him (and vice-versa), but he remembers all those little moments they had together, where he showed them what being a pirate was truly all about, and them reminding him that he was still a good man deep down. He wondered when this was all over if he would be able to see them again. He would certainly like to.

"Sorry for making you feel tense earlier, Henry," Jack apologized, "I was just in a bad mood is all."

"Apology accepted," Henry said, and Jack said, "You're a lot like your father. You have his conviction, his loyalty, and his inability to not make it painfully obvious that he's pining over a woman."

"What're you talking about?" Henry questioned.

"Come on, I've seen the way that you look at that Carina girl. You fancy her, don't you?" Jack teased.

"What- I just-" Henry stammered, "I only met her like yesterday."

"It's fine, your secret's safe with me," Jack winked, and Henry rolled his eyes. Jack continued, saying "Hey, what's the story with her, anyway? You and I both just happen to run into the same girl yesterday that conveniently has the map to find the Trident. What're the odds of that happening?"

"I don't know," Henry said, knowing he was going to have to lie a little because he didn't want to betray Carina's trust, "She didn't say how she found it, only that she had."

"That's strange," Jack said, "Do you trust her?"

"I do," Henry replied, "What about you?"

"I'm not sure yet," Jack responded, and the Gull continued to sail into the night.

Three days had passed, and the shadowy form of the Silent Mary continued to drag along the ocean floor. Its broken state did not impede its progress in any way, and the ship had not paused for anything. The ghostly ship continued on, and the pirates brought aboard were held at the mercy of the undead Spanish crew. Because they were in an inferior position, the pirates held their tongues and did as they were told, managing the decks under strict supervision from the officers. No one said a word, no one ate or slept, and no one dared act against the Spanish. To do so would've condemned them to death.

Barbossa stood at the wheel, much as he had for the past few days. Salazar kept close watch on him the entire time, not trusting the pirate captain to uphold his end of the bargain. He wanted to put his sword through him so badly, but he knew he couldn't. Barbossa had been on Jack's crew the day he was cursed, but Jack was who he wanted most, and that mattered more to Salazar. More than anything else in this world, he wanted to make sure Jack Sparrow paid for what he did to him. No one should've had to suffer his fate, least of all him. He had been out to make the world a better place, and all he got was decades of pain and misery.

Barbossa eyed Jack's compass, being sure the Mary was following the arrow so they could find Jack on time. The three days had passed, and if he didn't find Jack by sunrise, he was a dead man. He didn't want to hurt Jack, but he knew what had to be done if he was to keep what was his. He couldn't let that be jeopardized.

After more time had passed, there was still no sign of Jack, and light was starting to creep up over the horizon.

Salazar observed the light, and wheezing as he inhaled, he looked away from Barbossa and said, "Three days have passed. The sun is up, and so is your time."

Salazar tapped his rapier on the deck, and Lezaro, standing to Barbossa's left, put his rapier against his throat.

"Not to disagree," Barbossa quickly spoke before he was killed, "but the precision of our accord ends at sunrise. This be but first light, far from a fully risin' sun, and I know you to be a man of honor."

"Honor?" Salazar questioned, shaking his head, "You know not the meaning of the word."

"That be a bold statement you make, Captain Salazar," Barbossa said, "I'm trying to be cooperative with you."

Salazar scoffed, and then looked towards the ghostly seagulls in the sky, and then said, "Hector Barbossa. That's a name awfully Spanish for an English pirate, no?"

Barbossa gulped, not liking where this was going. Salazar then walked closer to him and said "Dime, hablas mi idioma?" ("Tell me, do you speak my language?")

"Si, lo hago," Barbossa replied, having not spoken Spanish for many years, "Lo aprendi de mi padre." ("Yes, I do. I learned it from my father.")

"Interesting that you mention him," Salazar said in English, "because I remember Rictor Barbossa."

Barbossa froze, shocked at this news, and Salazar continued on, "He joined up with the Spanish Navy about the same time I had, the both of us deckhands. Let me tell you, hombre, your father could load a cannon by himself faster than any crew could. Good man, good friend. That is, until he was killed in battle, leaving behind a wife and son I had yet to meet."

"Why you be tellin' me this?" Barbossa inquired, "I know who my father was."

"And you don't see your hypocrisy by becoming the very sort of creature that your father fought to destroy?" Salazar added, "He hated pirates more than I do. He'd be ashamed to look upon his own son as nothing more than a thief and a murderer that thinks only of himself."

Salazar turned around and walked back towards the edge of the ship, and then said "You know nothing of honor. You know nothing of me."

"I know what it's like to be bested by Jack Sparrow," Barbossa began, "to have your life stolen by him as he tries to prove himself superior to us. He's an enemy to us both-"

Salazar grunted, and quickly turned around as he hastily limped towards Barbossa, "You don't know who I am. Don't you dare compare whatever strife you've suffered to my own. What know you about what real honor is, hombre? Tell me, what is it?"

"I- I've heard stories," Barbossa stammered as Salazar leaned in close to him, "Stories from before our encounter thirty years ago, of a mighty Spanish captain, El Matador Del Mar, a man who scourged the sea with his wrath, hunted and killed thousands of men-"

"No, no, no, no, no, no! Men? No, no, no," Salazar interrupted him, "Not men. Pirates!"

Barbossa flinched as he felt some of Salazar's black blood spat onto his waistcoat. The Spaniard turned his head to face the horizon, where he saw the dim light in the distance, muttering "Pirates..."

Salazar closed his eyes, and he remembered. He remembered it all.

He walked away from Barbossa, and continued to pace about the helm until he started to speak, saying "Want to know who I am, hombre? Well, let me tell you then."

"Pirates have infected the seas for generations," he wheezed, "They took the life of my grandfather when my own father was a boy. He was a merchant sailor, dedicating himself to providing goods for the people of Espana. One day on a voyage home from these islands, his ship was plundered by pirates, killing everyone aboard including him. My father grieved, but he did not hate the pirates. You see, my father was a man of God, and he did not believe in revenge. He thought that pirates were just lost souls that needed to be guided back to the light."

Salazar sighed, and then he continued, saying "He became a Catholic missionary, hoping to spread the word of God throughout the Caribbean, and he made numerous voyages to and from Espana encouraging the scum of the world to give up their wicked ways and let goodness enter their hearts. And you know what he got in return for turning the other cheek and trying to make peace with those that killed his father?"

Barbossa said nothing, and Salazar said, "Of course you're silent, because you know what your kind do to innocent people. They gutted him like a fish and left his body in the harbor of Havana. I was only eight."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Barbossa said honestly, but Salazar ignored him. Despite fearing his destructive power, Barbossa couldn't help but pity Salazar. He understood now where all that anger had come from.

"Since then, I learned to not repeat his mistake," Salazar continued, "I do not forgive, for that is a weakness. The only way to be rid of evil is to completely obliterate it from the face of the Earth. I learned that pirates were not men, and thus were not to be treated like men. They're butchers, thieves, rapists, killers, and all things encompassing greed and selfishness. So, as a result, I vowed to end the plague that was piracy once and for all."

He closed his eyes again, and remembered all the years of fighting for Spain. He remembered back when the Silent Mary was at the height of his power, back when he was regarded as a hero by his country, and remembered the sight of ships burning around him and the smell of the gunpowder from the cannons.

"So that is what I did. I destroyed dozens of ships belonging to the pirate scum," Salazar said, relish in his voice as he recounted the battles. The heat of combat only cooled by the spray of the sea, the satisfaction he got from every victory.

"We were unbeatable," Salazar recollected, "Nothing could stop the Silent Mary. She was the mightiest warship ever constructed for the Armada. Back home, we were revered as heroes for our actions. Even the king thought as much."

"We were so successful in cleansing the world of piracy, that some of the few remaining ones joined together to defeat me, but they soon came to realize that it was hopeless," Salazar said, chuckling at the very thought of it, "And this is where the real story begins."

He recalls that day, thirty years ago, when the Brethren Court had sent out a dozen ships to challenge the Mary and its crew. They were outnumbered that day, but the pirates had underestimated the Spanish. The fight was long and bitter, and by the time the smoke had cleared, the Mary hadn't been touched. All of the pirate ships had burning hulls and were sinking down to the depths of the ocean. He distinctly remembers the Jolly Roger of the last ship to sink being ablaze before it joined the rest on the way to Davy Jones' Locker.

"The sea was finally... pure," Salazar said, eerily calm for his personality, "Their wretched flags would no longer stain the world with all they represented: fear, pain, and death."

He remembered the cheer his crew gave after they had won. It was music to his ears.

"But, in that moment of victory," Salazar continued, and his teeth clenched together, "that's when I heard that voice."

"Oi, Spaniards!"

"I saw, through the smoke of the battle, that wretched ship with tattered sails," Salazar continued, turning to face Barbossa, "The Black Pearl, the very ship you were first mate aboard."

Barbossa gulped, and Salazar continued on, "And then, up in the crow's nest, there was this young pirate... boy, just sitting there all high and mighty, flapping his arms around like... like a little bird, eh? And he was mocking me, insulting my strength, unfazed by all the destruction around him. You remember this, you were there. And from that day forth, that boy had earned himself a name that would haunt me for all the years I was trapped inside the Devil's Triangle."

Salazar faced away from Barbossa, and then looked up towards the sky to see the undead seagulls again, and then, with pure venom in his voice, uttered a single name, "Jack Sparrow."

"This boy," Salazar began again, "This boy was mocking my power, so I chased him, knowing that I would run my blade along his neck, and once he was dead I would finally have rid the world of pirates for good. And that was my biggest mistake."

He remembered ordering the Mary to give chase to the Pearl, recalling the blackened ship's incredible speed as they were being pursued through the waters of the Triangle. He remembers how, at the last second, Jack had ordered that the crew perform a bootleg turn at the rocks outside the cave entrance. The Mary was too big to make such a turn and going too fast to slow down. He remembers Jack strutting confidently across the deck as the Pearl was now going in the opposite direction as the Mary, smirking at him directly and swinging his compass around on a small rope. He had been bested that day by a mere boy that had outwitted him, and Salazar remembers the pure hatred he felt at him from that moment onward.

The Mary had crashed into the rocks inside the cave of the Devil's Triangle. Salazar remembers the screams of pain and terror coming from his crew as they burned to death along with the ship. They didn't deserve such a horrible fate. They were good men that sailed not just for the Spanish Crown, but for the rest of the world in protecting it from piracy. And now, instead of being able to return to Spain as heroes, they, along with Salazar, were to be trapped inside the Triangle for decades, suffering in agony as cursed, undead monsters. When Salazar himself died and was cursed, all he could think about was the pirate who had sent them to Hell and didn't think twice about doing so, and desired nothing more than revenge."

"Jack Sparrow took everything from me," Salazar began, his voice cracking with sadness, "and he filled me with... rage... and pain."

Salazar sighed, and Barbossa didn't feel scared of him anymore. Despite the fact that Lezaro still had his blade to his throat, Barbossa didn't care. He never thought he would've cared for anyone's sob-story after enduring the curse of Cortes' treasure, but after hearing him speak for himself, taking in all the agony in his voice, he felt a great swell of pity for the ghostly Spaniard. He felt terrible for even playing a part in contributing to his suffering, and it was a feeling that was unfamiliar to the old pirate: regret.

"And he is where the tale ends," Salazar concluded, looking out over the starboard side and seeing that the sun wasn't fully up yet, "You still have some time left, hombre. Sparrow's life better be mine soon."

"He will be, I can assure you of that," Barbossa said, feeling conflicted. Maybe Jack did have to pay after all.

Salazar was about to reply, but then he saw something out in the distance off the starboard side, asking aloud "Que?"

"What is it, Capitan?" Lezaro asked, his sword still over Barbossa's throat.

"It... it looks like a ship in the distance. Give me a spyglass," Salazar demanded, and one of his men put one in his hand. He extended it to see if it was Sparrow out in the distance, but it was something else entirely. There was a small merchant schooner bearing a British flag looking to be under siege from another schooner bearing a black flag.

"Pirates," Salazar said under his breath, his anger rising as he saw the merchant vessel under attack. He knew that finding Jack Sparrow was his priority, but there were innocent people aboard that ship being attacked by the pirate scum.

"Lezaro, keep Barbossa on course! Six men, with me!" Salazar ordered, drawing his rapier from his scabbard. With haste, six of Salazar's men rushed to their captain's side, pulling out their own swords. The ghosts then leapt over the edge of the Mary and landed on the ocean's surface like it were a solid floor, and then started to charge at the ensuing conflict with their swords raised in the air.

"Prepare to board!" Salazar ordered, and he and his men got up onto the deck of the merchant ship, seeing that the merchants were barely holding their own against the besieging pirates. After a moment, the merchants and the pirates both took notice of the ghosts being there, and then they started to panic. Without hesitation, the ghostly Spaniards went to work on the pirates, cutting them down one by one as they protected the defending merchants from the buccaneers' blades. The situation had turned so horrible for the pirates that the last one grabbed a young boy that had been accompanying them on the trip and put his sword against his neck.

"Let me go or I swear on me life I'll gut 'im!" the pirate shouted, nervously looking from one ghost to the next as he held the squirming boy. He slowly backed up towards the stern of the ship, but before he could do anything else, Salazar had phased from the lower deck onto the top deck and stuck his rapier right through his back.

The pirate fell to the ground dead, and his grip on the boy was nonexistent. After seeing that all the pirates had been dealt with, Salazar walked around the boy and looked him in the face. The boy began to whimper at Salazar's ghostly exterior, and then the Spaniard got down on one knee and said "Shh, shh, shh, it's alright now. I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe."

He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, trying to provide him with some comfort, "You know, you remind me a lot of my sons."

"R-really?" the boy stammered, his fear of Salazar dissipating.

"Yes," Salazar said, attempting to smile, "They too wanted to sail the seas when they were old enough. But it looks like you have enough courage for it already, yes?"

"I- I think so," the boy said, "Thanks for saving us."

"That's my job," Salazar said, "I protect people from evil men like these."

Salazar got off his knee and ruffled the boy's blond hair, hoping he would grow up to have a bright future ahead of him. He looked to all of the adults aboard and gave a silent nod, and then he motioned for his men to depart from the ship and head back towards the Mary. They had made it back with incredible speed and were able to catch up with the ship before it went too far ahead.

Salazar walked up towards Barbossa and said "I need to tell you something, Capitan."

"What would that be?" the pirate asked, curious.

"You see these medals?" the ghost asked, pointing his index finger to the three medals over his breast, "These mean nothing to me. They're mere trinkets representing my accomplishments. But that-" He pointed his finger back towards the merchant ship, "That right there is how I measure my victories. That is why I kill pirates and show no remorse for it. You call me El Matador Del Mar as if I'm some kind of monster. I did what I did to keep people safe, to prevent them from suffering the same tragedy that I've suffered."

Salazar's breath wheezed as he inhaled again, saying "And then that bastardo Jack Sparrow made sure that all that I did was for nothing. Let me ask you something, Hector Barbossa, who is the real monster here?"

Barbossa had no response to Salazar's question, for he had seen that the sun had fully risen at last.

"Ah, sunrise," Salazar remarked, "Your deadline is reached."

As Lezaro prepared to cut his throat, Barbossa quickly pointed out in front of him and said, "But look! Up ahead, do you see it?"

Salazar opened up his spyglass again and looked beyond, and he saw a small, decrepit ship sailing ahead, and at the helm was the man he hated more than anything else in the world.

Jack Sparrow.

A/N: Hey guys! You probably weren't expecting an update so soon, were you? Hehehe. Well, here's another chapter to keep you preoccupied for now. I know I wrote the last chapter like two days ago, but here's another one just for you guys (check out my last chapter if you didn't already). I hope you enjoy, and as always, please read, review, and share this story with as many people as possible. Thank you so much for all your support, and I hope you all have a safe and Happy New Year!

-Spent