A Pirate and His Wolf (Pirates of the Caribbean)

Chapter 25

Meanwhile, a few thousand miles away, the Black Pearl sat still in the inky black ocean, buffeted slightly by the small waves. The lines creaked, the noise merging in with the water and wind. The vast majority of the crew were below decks- asleep, no doubt, after a round of heavy drinking waiting... waiting.

"Fifteen men on a dead man's chest, yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum..." sang Gibbs, his low voice echoing across the deck. He paced back and forth, a bottle of rum clenched firmly in his hand. "Drink and the devil had done for the rest... yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!" He took a swig of the amber liquid and staggered a few feet before regaining his balance. Gibbs looked up to the black sky and took another drink. He peered through the darkness of the sails and spotted a few crows pecking at the topsail. As though they'd sensed his stare, they took off immediately, heading to a large black mass in the far distance, illuminated only by the moonlight.

Guards escorted a prisoner across a stone bridge. His chains rattling across the grounds mixed with the wails of the tormented souls were music to their ears. A few feet away, a man sitting in a cage was pecked to death by a pack of crows, leaving nothing but bones and cloth. At the foot of the towers, by a large parapet guards murmured a prayer in Turkish, before dropping one of the several caskets beside them into the sea.

The caskets floated away, carried by the currents of the ocean until the water became still. One of the crows from the prison landed atop a casket and began to peck at the wood as if it sensed its next victim.

Peck.

Peck. Peck

Peck. Peck. Peck.

Peck. Peck. Peck.

Suddenly, a gunshot fired from inside the casket flew through the lid, hitting the crow, which disappeared in a cloud of black feathers.

A hand wrapped around a gun reached through the hole in the lid, swinging around, poised to shoot. The hand returned in the hole, and soon, the person began to tear at the wood, until they were able to sit up comfortably. Captain Jack Sparrow sat up, wincing in the moonlight, stretching. He felt the top of his head, and a look of panic ran across his face before he reached into the casket and pulled out a hat. He placed it askew on his head, before reaching once more into the casket. "Sorry mate," he said, before- SNAP, he pulls out a skeleton leg. "Mind if we take a little side trip?" he paused as though he were going to get an answer, "Didn't think so." Using the leg as a makeshift oar, he redirected the casket towards the Pearl in the distance.

His mind wandered off as he attempted to ignore the sliminess of the leg. His initial thoughts always focused on the same thing, Zachary. The shapeshifter was always at the forefront of his mind. The last he'd heard, he was poised on his ship before he had randomly disappeared, off the Caribbean. Many of the other pirates' Jack had come across since his disappointment had mentioned coming across a young man who fit his description, and from what Jack had heard, Zachary had done his fair share of pirating.

He approached the hull of the ship and could spot the rungs on his left. Eager to tell the rest of his crew about his newest plan, he clambered up the rungs and saw Gibbs waiting to give him a hand. Instead, he thrust the skeletal leg into Gibbs' open hand and pulled himself aboard.

Marty and Leech, one of the pirates who'd joined Jack's crew in India waited wild-eyed behind Gibbs, who held the leg gingerly. "Not quite according to plan," he said, tossing the leg over the rail.

Jack smirked, "Complications arose, ensued, were overcome." He nodded to Leech, who threw Jack's coat over his shoulders.

Gibbs nodded, as though he expected this answer, "You got what you went in after, then?"