AN: SHOULD BUGGY BE ADDED TO THE CREW?
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The Calm Belt did not welcome visitors.
There was no wind. No current that could be trusted. The sea lay flat and endless, a vast mirror of quiet death stretching in all
directions. Any normal ship would have been dead in the water within minutes, adrift, helpless, waiting for something large and hungry to notice.
The Black Pearl moved anyway.
She glided forward as if the water itself had decided to cooperate, her hull cutting a smooth, deliberate path through stillness. No sails were raised. No oars dipped into the sea. And yet, the ship advanced.
Gibbs stood at the railing, knuckles white as he stared at the unmoving horizon.
"This," he said slowly, "is not normal."
Jack leaned beside him, hat tilted low, looking entirely too relaxed for a man sailing through a maritime graveyard.
"Normal is overrated."
Gibbs turned. "What curse does this ship have?"
Jack considered the question. "There's no curse, only magic."
Gibbs squinted at him. "That's not an answer."
Jack smiled innocently.
Gibbs watched the water glide past the hull without ripple or resistance. He exhaled sharply. "Ships with sails don't move here. Even marine warships require special coating."
"This one does."
Gibbs grabbed Jack by the shoulder and pulled him toward the far end of the deck, away from Pintel and Ragetti, who were currently leaning over the railing and pointing excitedly at shadows moving beneath the surface.
"Tell me the truth," Gibbs said quietly.
Jack glanced at the twins, then back at Gibbs. His voice dropped.
"I made a bargain."
Gibbs stiffened. "With who?"
Jack met his eyes. "Davy Jones."
The world seemed to stop.
Gibbs' face drained of color. "Davy… Jones?"
His voice cracked. "The Davy Jones? The one sailors swear by before they drown? The legend of the sea? The man said to rival Rocks himself?"
Jack nodded once.
Gibbs stumbled back a step. "Why would you do that?"
Jack looked away, jaw tightening. "Because I wanted revenge badly enough to pay any price."
Gibbs swallowed. "And the price?"
Jack held his gaze.
"It was-"
Before Gibbs could speak again, Pintel's voice cut through the tension.
"CAPTAIN!"
Jack and Gibbs turned.
Pintel was pointing wildly at the sea.
"THINGS!"
Ragetti nodded vigorously. "Many things. Very big things."
The water around the ship shifted.
Shadows moved beneath the surface—long, serpentine shapes sliding past one another. Fins broke the surface briefly before vanishing again. Some shadows were longer than the Pearl herself.
Gibbs felt his stomach drop. "Sea Kings."
Jack straightened. "Quite a few."
"Some are bigger than the ship!" Pintel yelped.
One shadow rose higher than the rest.
The water bulged.
Then it erupted.
A massive green Sea King burst from the depths, its body towering above the deck, scales glistening wetly. It resembled a monstrous sea horse, its elongated head lined with jagged fangs, eyes cold and ancient as it regarded the moving intruder in its territory.
Ragetti grabbed Pintel. "You said they only eat bad ships!"
Jack frowned. "I never said bad ships."
"What did you say then?!" Pintel shrieked.
Jack winced. "Pirate ships."
Silence.
Gibbs shouted, "LOAD THE CANNON!"
Pintel and Ragetti snapped into action, panic lending them speed as they scrambled toward the cannon they'd salvaged earlier. Gunpowder was poured.
The ball was loaded. Gibbs took position, hands steady despite the pounding of his heart.
The Sea King let out a low, reverberating growl and surged closer.
"Fire!" Gibbs yelled.
Boom.
The cannon roared.
The iron ball flew straight into the Sea King's open mouth.
For a moment, there was hope.
The beast jerked back, gagging violently, thrashing its head as if confused. The deck shook as it recoiled.
Pintel laughed hysterically. "WE DID IT!"
Then the Sea King snarled.
It tried to spit the cannonball out.
Failed.
Its eyes narrowed.
Gibbs felt his blood run cold. "Reload! Quickly!"
Pintel fumbled but obeyed. Ragetti shoved another ball into place. Gibbs adjusted his aim as the Sea King surged forward again, enraged now.
Boom.
The second shot struck the Sea King square in the head.
The cannonball bounced off.
It fell into the sea with a quiet splash.
The Sea King opened its mouth wide.
Far too wide.
Pintel and Ragetti clutched each other.
"We're not eating it," Pintel whimpered. "It's eating us."
Gibbs turned desperately to Jack. "Do something!"
Jack stepped forward.
He drew his sword.
The Sea King lunged.
Jack moved.
He stepped into the moment when the Sea King was closest—when its momentum carried it forward, when its jaws were open and its guard nonexistent.
Jack's blade flashed.
A single, precise arc.
The cut cleaved through scale, flesh, and bone, splitting the Sea King's head cleanly in two from face to crown.
Blood exploded across the deck.
The massive body crashed into the sea, lifeless, staining the water red as it floated away.
Silence returned.
Jack sheathed his sword.
He calmly removed his hat and wiped the blood from its brim.
Inside, his body screamed. His arms trembled. His lungs burned. The strike had drained him far more than he let on.
But a captain did not show that.
Jack walked to the railing, leaning casually against it, hiding the way his legs threatened to buckle. He stared out at the floating corpse as if merely inspecting his work.
Behind him, the world rushed back in.
"CAPTAIN!" Pintel shouted. "THAT WAS AMAZING!"
"You CUT IT IN HALF," Ragetti added.
Gibbs stepped forward and clapped Jack on the shoulder.
Jack nearly toppled over the railing.
"Careful!" Jack snapped. "Don't throw your captain into the sea."
Gibbs frowned as Jack limped away toward his quarters. "I barely touched him."
Pintel leaned over the railing, eyes shining. "Sea King meat."
Ragetti nodded enthusiastically. "So much meat."