Chapter
(1)
The wind howled like a devil freed from the deep, clawing at the riggin’ and screechin’ through the torn sails.
Rain battered the deck like musket shot, and the Captain gripped the wheel with knuckles white as bone,
fightin’ the beast that was the sea herself.
The decks were madness ropes snappin', barrels crashin', men slippin' and cursin' as the ship pitched and groaned.
The Storm
A black mountain o’ rock loomed through the mist, sharp as a blade.
The ship, poor beauty, struck with a screamin’ crack that split the timbers.
Men were thrown like rags, barrels and bodies swallowed whole by the rage of the sea.
The Captain clung to the wheel as the world bucked beneath him
timbers snappin', mast crackin’, the ship dyin’ under his boots. A heavy marst, swingin’ wild, caught him across the shoulder and slammed him to the deck.
The taste of blood filled his mouth.
The storm roared above him and darkness took him, deep and cold like the grave.
The Morning Wreck
A grey morn’ crept slow over the world, pale and cold as death.
The sea, though quieted, still hissed and slapped against the battered wreck.
The ship once a proud lady lay gutted on the rocks, her bones showin' to the sky.
The Captain roared above it all, voice like thunder:
“Hold fast, ye scurvy lot! She ain't sunk yet!”
But deep down, he knew the truth.
The sea had her claws in 'em, and she weren't lettin’ go easy. Elias Grey, his First Mate, wrestled with what was left of the main sail, while young Luca and stout Finn fought to keep the lines from whippin’ free.
Brave lads, all of 'em but the ocean showed no mercy that night.
Torn sails flapped like the rags , tangled in the broken masts.
The air stank o’ salt, blood, and the deep sea.
The Captain stirred where he lay sprawled, a low groan rumblin' from his chest.Splinters dug into his flesh, blood caked 'cross his brow.
He blinked blearily at the ruins the world twisted and broken.No sound came but the endless slap of the sea... until a cough.
The Captain pushed himself up, teeth grittin' through the pain.
“Elias!” he rasped, the name rippin' from his throat.
From the wreckage staggered Elias Grey, bruised and bloodied, clutchin’ a busted spar like a sword.
Then came Luca, limpin’ bad, blood tricklin’ from his temple.And Finn, holdin’ his ribs but standin’ tall.Only the four of 'em left.
Only the Captain, Elias, Luca, and Finn.
The rest good lads all were taken by the sea, their souls called home by the dark waters.
The Captain staggered to his feet, fists clenchin’ at the loss.
“We ain’t dead yet,” he growled, voice low and mean.
The others gathered 'round him, battered but breathin’.
And as the mist began to lift, the Captain’s eyes narrowed.Far off on the horizon, a black shape slid through the grey
a ship, comin' straight for 'em.
A Call to Arms
The Captain’s voice cracked like a whip across the wreck.
"Up, ye dogs! The ship’s sinkin’, the cargo’s floatin’, and soon we'll be feed for the gulls if we don’t stand tall!"
Elias, Luca, and Finn, shakin’ the seawater from their bones, hauled themselves upright.The Captain limped across the tilted deck, eyes takin’ in the ruin.
The lower hold was already drownin', the deck buckled and groanin’.
But it weren’t the wreck that twisted his gut.
Out there, breakin’ through the mist, was a ship low, black, and ugly as sin.
The Captain didn’t need to see the flag.
He knew that ship like a shark knows blood.
"Captain Crow," Elias muttered, spottin' the menace.
The Captain gave a single nod sharp and cold. There’d be no mercy.
Just blood and steel.
"Arm yerselves!" barked the Captain.
"Blades, clubs yer bare hands if need be!"
The four of ‘em scrambled through the wreck:
an old cutlass here, a snapped spear there, even a jagged plank sharp enough to gut a man.They stood ready on the broken deck, salt stingin’ their wounds, the enemy ship loomin’ larger with every heartbeat."Better to die standin' with steel in hand," muttered Luca, eyes burnin'.
The Captain glanced at his crew what little the sea had spared him.
"No," he growled, settin' his jaw.
"Better to live and make 'em regret ever crossin' us."
The black sails billowed as Crow’s ship bore down, death carried on the wind.
The Captain drew his battered blade, heart beatin’ steady as a drum.
Whatever came next
they'd face it like true sons of the sea.
The Battle for the Broken Ship
The enemy ship loomed like a shadow cast by hell itself, her black sails heavy with menace.
The Captain squinted through the mist, seein' the figures crowdin' her rails Crow's crew, hungry for blood and plunder.
With a low snarl, the Captain turned to his men.
"Stand firm, lads. We give 'em steel before they take our breath!"
Elias grunted, heftin’ his broken spear like a pike.
Luca tightened his grip on the cutlass, his lip curlin' in a half-snarl.
Finn cracked his knuckles, ready to tear flesh with his bare hands if he had to. The enemy’s grappling hooks came whistlin’ through the air, lashin' onto the wrecked ship with dull, heavy thuds. The boards shuddered underfoot as Crow’s men swarmed aboard dirty, mean eyed bastards, knives and pistols flashin'.
The Captain let out a roar and charged into 'em, his blade swingin' wide.
Steel against steel, shouts filled the air, and the sea itself seemed to lean in to watch.
The first man fell screamin', blood sprayin' across the wreck. Elias fought back-to-back with the Captain, his spear jabbing, twistin', spillin’ guts.Luca, fast and vicious, ducked low, slashin’ legs from under a man twice his size.
Finn, silent as the grave, crushed two attackers with the broken spar he swung like a hammer.
But for every man they felled, two more came.
Crow's horde was thick as fleas on a dead dog.
The Captain caught a glimpse of him
Crow himself standin' on the other ship's deck, smilin’ that black-toothed grin, watchin' like a wolf eyin’ his kill.
"Fall back to the mast!" the Captain bellowed, blood slickin' his blade.
The crew staggered back, forming a tight ring around the cracked mast, fending off blow after blow.
But the numbers were too many, and they were too few.
Rough hands grabbed Luca, yankin' him down.
Finn was clubbed from behind, fallin' hard.
Elias took a blade across the shoulder and went to one knee.
The Captain fought like a man possessed, but a rifle butt crashed into the back of his head, droppin' him hard onto the blood-slick deck. As the world spun, he heard the rough laughter of Crow’s men.
Chains clanked. Shackles bit into wrists.
They were prisoners now.The last thing the Captain saw before darkness claimed him was Crow’s grinnin’ face starin’ down at him, smug and cruel.
The Devil’s Bargain
The Captain awoke to the stink of salt, sweat, and tar.
Iron shackles bit into his wrists, his arms dragged like dead weight as he stumbled through the surf.
The enemy crew jeered and shoved the prisoners ashore the Captain, Elias, Luca, and Finn what was left of a once-proud ship's soul. The land rose before them, rough beach and a stretch of cursed-looking bushes set back from the beach.
This weren't no port or proper harbor this was some forgotten reach of England’s south coast, far from watchful eyes.
The enemy crew hauled up driftwood and broken spars, buildin’ a rough camp on the sand.
A fire roared soon enough, spittin' sparks into the grey sky.
Meat sizzled. Rum flowed. Laughter rolled like thunder.
But it weren’t mockery that filled Crow's eyes as he watched them.
No it was calculation. The Captain, sat down onto a log near the fire, looking at Crow’s gaze with cold defiance.
Elias, Luca, and Finn flanked him, bloodied but burnin' with stubborn fire. Crow strolled into the firelight, smug as a cat with a cornered mouse.
"Ye fought well," he said, voice low and scratchy like dead leaves.
"Better than most ships crew I’ve broken. It'd be a waste to slit yer throats now."
The Captain said nothing, just narrowed his eyes.
Crow grinned wider.
"I make ye an offer," he said, liftin’ a battered cup of rum.
"Join my crew. Swear yerselves to me. Or..."
He let the word hang like a noose.
The crew stiffened.
"Or what?" spat Elias, blood tricklin' from his temple.
Crow shrugged.
"A man who won't sail under my colors don't need to breathe."
The Captain felt the weight of the choice but survival burns fierce in a man not ready to meet Davy Jones.
He traded glances with his crew grim, but resolute.
"Aye," the Captain growled.
"We’ll sail with ye."
Crow’s smile widened, all teeth and shadow.
"Good!" he bellowed. "Then let’s drink to new beginnings!"
Mugs were thrust into their hands the Captain, Elias, Luca, Finn, and the men of Crow’s ship.
The Captain lifted his cup, the firelight flashin' in his dark eyes.
The smell of rum and smoke filled the air.
Crow held up his mug high.
"TO NEW BROTHERS!" he roared.
They all drank.
The rum was bitter, burnin’ down the throat.
Crow laughed a deep, ugly sound.
The Captain frowned... something was wrong.
The world tilted.
The Captain tried to rise, but his legs turned to water.
Around him, Elias collapsed first. Then Finn. Then Luca.
Crow laughed harder.
"You’ll sleep long, little fishes," he rasped.
And the Captain knew, as the darkness dragged him under
he had been tricked.
The Captain's world was thick blackness, a heavy, dreamless sea he couldn’t swim through.
Time had no meaning only the faint echo of cacklin’ laughter somewhere far above.
Then cold.The sting of the wind against his skin.
Rough hands grabbing his arms.
The crunch of shovels biting into the earth.Slowly, like a man haulin' himself up from the depths of death, the Captain cracked his eyes open.
Shapes moved in the gloom Crow’s men diggin’ shallow graves in the wet sand.
One by one, the Captain and his crew Elias, Luca, and Finn were dumped like broken cargo into the half-dug pits.
The Captain tried to rise but his limbs were useless, heavy as anchors.
The cursed potion gripped him like iron chains.
Above, Crow stood with a torch in hand, grinning like a wolf.
"Sleep, my pretties," he sneered.
"Sleep and rot where no man will ever find ye."
Sand rained down on the Captain's face as the gravediggers shoveled fast, laughin' and spittin’ as they worked.
Grain by grain, the world grew darker.
The Captain’s lungs strained, panic scrapin' at the edges of his mind
but his body refused to answer.
In his final moments of awareness, the Captain made a vow
not in words, but in the deep, silent places where true rage burns:
One day... there will be a reckoning.
The last thing he saw through the thin veil of sand was Crow’s ship
sails black as sin slipping away into the mist, leavin’ naught but shallow graves behind.
And then nothing.
Buried by the tide, cursed by betrayal, sealed in the earth by the hand of a traitor.
