SEA SIREN [SEONGJOONG]

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Faraway at a distance, across the wide stretch of a never ending line where the rolling sea waters kissed the sky, the horizon began to quiver. The darkness was heavy, the rumble was low, the ambience, stiff. Amidst the cruel wickedness of the nocturnal hour, the open letter of an approaching calamity had already arrived. A clap of thunder reverberated across the place, illuminating the waters for a speck of seconds and then, once again, going black.

A storm was brewing.

The ship sailed on, without any signs of stoppage. And where would she stop? All around her were nothing but the gigantic waves, the empty abyss of the inky water body, famished and ferocious. She could have been paralysed, with no other chance other than facing the disaster that was soon to attack her without any mercy. But she didn't. It was because of the crew she cradled within herself.

The men cried to one another, quickly putting themselves to work. Everybody focused on their individual tasks to bring everything together and prevent a possible ship wreck. Materials were carried away from the deck, sails were reefed, hatches were battened down and important chamber doors were bolted and locked. Their voices were loud, yet louder was the growl of the approaching storm. These men weren't scared, nor were they loosing any hope. Instead, they continued with their tasks with all the energy they could implement. They were meant to win every battle, even if it was a battle with the sea. They didn't know the definition of 'loosing'.

After all, they were the pirate's men.

"A-hoy Cap'n!"

A man shrieked, as he paused his task and looked to his right and noticed the Captain walking up to them. This man had attires a little different from the rest. The difference didn't specifically lie in the attires though, it was probably due to all the other materials that surrounded his dress and his entire self that made him stand out from the rest.

He had a white loose shirt, with dirt and tears at places, a little frilled near the neck and chest. Above that was a dark sleeveless coat of leather, almost worn out. A belt was tied stiffly around his waist, which had a complex metallic decoration in the front, right above his navel. Brown short pants and shabby leather boots completed his formal attire.

The man had numerous chains around his neck, two of which hung several keys from them, and the rest were thin strings of expensive metals. Rings of various colors adorned his fingers, and his cutlass dangled across his waist. His hair was midnight black, flowing till his shoulders, slick and shiny, rare for a sailor. On his head he had a dark hat, on which was a prominent imprint of a human skull, speaking volumes about his profession.

The captain waved at the sailor who addressed him earlier, and then turned his attention towards the emptiness that lay in front him. Dark. Completely dark. Yet he could see, he could hear, he could feel the rush of the violence that would thrash upon them any moment. The gale had been speeding every second, becoming powerful with every beat of the heart. The waters rose higher and higher, foaming white against the surface, gurgling with rage. Another clap of thunder dazzled the region for a second, and then disappeared, it's aftersound creating an almost deafening effect to the ones on the ship.