"Oh god...Oh god no, i'n it?..No, no, right, no, no! This...this ain't real," Harlianne gasped. Everywhere she looked around her, there was death and decay. The bodies were swollen from the heat that caused the internal gasses to swell and expand. Every few minutes it seemed there was a belch, as if someone still living lurked there. To make matters worse, the corpses were all a fine shade of green, with blood stained foam dripping from their mouths and noses.
"Sirena! Oi! Sirena! Blimey! Wot did they do ter yer?" Harlianne screamed, finding the body of her best friend, her first mate. Decapitated. Someone had chopped her head off. Tears fell from Harlianne's eyes, washing away some of the dried blood on Sirena's face. She was wailing like a banshee as she fell to her knees, muttering incoherent curses and wishes, as if they would bring Sirena back somehow. Her greatest fear was that she'd lose her crew - it had come true.
"This ain't real. This can't be real. This ain't 'appenin'. Wake up, right, 'arli, wake up! Bloody 'ell!" Harlianne cursed. She slapped herself, feeling the pain sting on her cheeks. The sun was low in the sky, yet she still felt its warmth. She could smell death and the salty sea breeze that futilely attempted to combat it. None of it worked and she let out an anguished scream, the sound of a wounded animal.
It was all too much.
"Scowling will get you..." Aravis trailed off, gasping for breath. Her heart began to pound faster and faster, as her brain felt like it was swelling. Decompressing was more likely, as it was as if some gigantic weight was lifted from her. In that moment, she felt each and every emotion that had been stolen from her for days. Relief. Guilt. Misery. Anger. Despair. Hope. Annoyance. Determination. Envy. Loneliness. It all hit her at once.
"Mujhe khed hai..." Aravis whispered, her eyes looking towards the sky. Tears poured from her eyes like water after a dam has burst.
"Main tumhen phir se dekhoonga, Elissa kya aap hamesha sitaaron ke beech mein rahenge." The events of the last five days didn't matter - the time she had spent in the company of the horrid man, Edgard. They had scavenged for supplies together and despite his many attempts to intimidate her, she had done nothing. But with her emotions returned to her, the storyteller turned to face the horrid man, laughing weakly at him.
Her eyes were filled with pity.
"You've never known love," Aravis finally said to him.
"It'll kill you one day."
Virginia sat in her rented room, gazing outside. It was no longer so much a window as it was a gigantic hole in the wall, allowing in a delightful sea breeze. In the distance, she could see a cloud of smoke rising into the air, its shape reminiscent of a mushroom cloud. By her memory, the direction was the Devil's Triangle. "Sic Gorgiamus Allos Subjectatos Nunc," Virginia said clearly, smiling through a tear.
She did not need the gift of prophecy to know that her parents were no longer among the living. Yet to the well organized mind, death was nothing but the next great adventure. It was not a time for sorrow, but one for joy. "We will dance a glorious mamushka for you both," Virginia promised. With all that had happened in the last week, with the tragedy at Tortuga, she knew her parents were bound to find themselves mixed up with it all.
Virginia then turned her head, spotting eight ships on the horizon. She could barely make out the flags from this distance, even when she squinted. Whatever chaos was happening in the Caribbean, it had only just begun.
"You'll want to take a nice deep breath, dear," a voice whispered in Millicent's ear. Her surroundings have changed entirely, though that in itself is not too unusual when it came to the Cursed Flask. However, had Millicent explored more before her death, she perhaps would have recognized them. Above her is the crisp sky and her nose is filled with the scent of the marshes. To her left, there are several small huts. Some of them have been destroyed, likely ransacked. Others are in pristine condition. And to her right, there is a
kindly woman.
"That's it," the woman praised her. She smoothed the folds of her dress and stood up. Her feet did not quite reach the ground. "Please, call me Caroline. Or if you are more formally suited, I suppose Mrs. Alucard will do. Now, dearie, I know you are going to have questions. But there is much that I must explain to you."
Caroline's smile faded as she spotted the flask near Millicent. It was in perfect condition, without a single scratch on it. Yet Caroline also saw something that others could not - she saw the souls still attached to the flask.
I mustn't be impatient with her, Carolina reminded herself. There was much that Millicent had done already that others may not have - the first being the healing of all of those Luisa had caused harm to - those who had not already passed, at least. That in itself was a good.
"You are no longer a mortal woman, Millicent," Caroline explained. "Listen to the flask - you can understand its tongue. Reach out...you can feel all things, you can cause them to move of
your accord."
"And my child, you will never die."
Septima blinked, attempting to comprehend her new surroundings. She was back at home - back at the Misty Mire. She had returned to Tortuga. Searching her thoughts, Septima growled as she recalled what had happened. She had been so close to the flask...And if she were here, then another must have taken it from her.
She passed through the wall of the hut as if it was nothing, only to see the bastard Millicent Clarke talking to herself.
Septima couldn't see Mrs. Alucard - only Millicent could. "You! How dare you, you heathen! You do not understand the power that flask possesses - it would suit you ill!" Septima growled.
"...Quoi?" Édouard asked as he awoke face down in the mire. Had he not been a ghost, he would have been covered in a fine layer of mud. Instead, he awoke to find himself back somewhere incredibly familiar - Tortuga! He grinned as he got to his feet, hardly even noticing as he passed through Septima.
"Bastard!"
"Je t'en prie!" Édouard replied, thinking it had been some form of compliment. More and more of the ghosts were coming into view, as their spirits appeared on the island of Tortuga. The flask had moved and naturally, so had they. They were tethered to it, as the flask continued to feed off of their souls.
Would they ever be able to find peace?
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