The Devil's Temptress: The Curse of the Black Pearl || Jack Sparrow

Prologue. 1720

1720

The fog, it followed them. It haunted them, like they haunted these waters. A suffocatingly thick blanket of chimney smoke coloured mist was forever wrapped around them. Life outside of that opaque wall was forgotten, hidden for almost two years.

The mood of the crew had been the first to turn, matching the bleak, empty grey; then their taste, then their scent and then their touch. Now, they could only watch the warm, ripe, red juice of the grapes trickle down the glass like aged blood, and hear the salty fresh spray of the sea during a storm. Any reminder of what they once loved and craved and took for granted, had become torturous.

They were guided by their own ghostly breeze, the air around them unnaturally still, the chipped painted hull gliding through the dark waters. The stretch out arm of the figurehead sliced through the fog and allowed a wave of mist to sweep over the ebony deck. No amount of fog could hide those sails however; the sheets of tattered black. Hanging from burnt masts, they resembled the aged cotton which hung from their bones in the moonlight.

The sight of their ship alone was enough to terrify the most decorated of men. It was an image they could only speak of once they had safely returned to land, laid up cosy and warm in their beds. It was those sightings which inspired the stories and haunted the nightmares.

In the calm waters, the rigging creaked, the holds rumbled and the lamps squealed as they swayed.

They were the predator. They swept the ocean for prey.

The Black Pearl followed the golds calling. The gold called to them.

"We should douse the lamps Captain." The First Mate spoke softly with a voice which didn't match the ghost ship or the stormy fog. A Mediterranean accent laced the words, making a simple suggestion sound like a colourful song.

Looking back over her shoulder, far enough to see the faint outline of her Captain out the corner of her eye, Nicolette frowned. Her face remained hidden, veiled by the darkness of the night.

"We're close..."

The Captain made no sign that he had heard her, no sign that he cared, and he continued to watch out over the deserted deck and calm waters. It was minutes later when, with a small nod, he gestured for the Bo'sun to follow through with her suggestion.

Nicolette Barker turned back to watch the slowly growing light on the horizon, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes. The small dancing flames around her were slowly extinguished bringing the view more into focus. Now, facing the moonlight, a cream cascade of light picked out her main features; the rusted silver coins twisted into her hair and the deathly pale white of her right pupil.

Her clothes sagged in places, hanging onto nothing but bone, and the half a dozen gold rings threatened to slip from her fingers. She had prayed to any God listening when it had first happened, begged for madness or death, but this was her punishment.

The moonlight showed her, showed them all for what they really were; dead but trapped among the living.

Clenching her fists, Nicolette stepped into the comfort of the vshadows and held her chin high. Out of sight, out of mind.

"Sail ho!" The long awaited call was carried down from the crows nest.

Behind her, Captain Barbossa shifted and grumbled. "Keep her on course." He too was keeping his eyes focused on the small dot of light on the horizon, far in the distance. The helm rattles as it was adjusted by one notch and then she heard his footsteps.

Their pet sat balanced on her left shoulder, picking at the bronze beads and the peacock feathers tied into her hair long ago. Jack groomed the knotted tats and pecked at her ear, a small comfort in the given circumstances.