He hadn’t liked the feel of this ship when they saw her moored far from land, no doubt run aground on a reef from the looks of things. Nevertheless, Smee had convinced him it might be worth a look around for the sake of any hidden wealth. It would, after all, have been quite a shame to leave unguarded treasure floating about in the middle of the water until the trumpets of judgement day sounded- or until another band of scallywags came upon her, more likely.
The lot of them crept aboard, weapons at the ready in case there were any surviving crewman that wanted to put up a fight. Oddly, there was no one, not even bones or a single sign of a corpse.
“What do you suppose-…?” Smee wondered to his Captain without extrapolating, probably unable to articulate the rest of his thought.
“Impossible to say…but it gives me an ill feeling.”
Smee nodded in agreement. “Too right. I say we have a quick look about and then shove off.”
Had James not been so distracted he might’ve answered back with a terse, “This was your idea, you clot.”, but instead moved towards the stateroom, feeling himself both entitled and obligated. Here was where he’d find most of the loot, if there was any to be had.
The stateroom itself was dark and dank, it smelled of rot and seawater- yet, none of that put him off so much as the inexplicable feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Something was waiting for him here.
He pushed through the debris, most of it fetid and unsalvageable from the standing water…until something caught his eye. It was the glint of an old nightmare, a ghost of his past come to haunt him again. He thought surely his eyes had been playing tricks on him, there was no earthly way he had seen what he knew he must…
But there it lay on the one dry chest, that gold and red seal that had been branded over everything in his boyhood home. He loathed it more than anything, more than Pan. Teeth all but gnashing, he grabbed the blasted chest and pried it open with his hook, as if eager to fight whatever being within had cast this cruel spell. This all had to have been a mistake, some foolish trick, some work of the boy’s-
James inhaled sharply when the contents were revealed. Every significant token of his childhood lay within, items he had felt certain he would never see again. Towards the top, a long, ragged ear poked out like a withered spring blossom and, despite his better judgement, he pulled it from the heap.
“What devil’s sorcery is this…” he wondered to nothing in particular as tears began to burn in his eyes.
