Ivan swore as he pulled his cutlass free. Jean, facing paling, did the same. “Captain!” Ivan called, keeping himself between the statue and Alek’s back. “We have a situation here.”

  The statue took a step towards them, shaking the room. “We won’t be able to fight this thing.” Jean said, his shoulder brushing Ivan’s as they backed up together. “We’ll be killed.”

  Ivan risked a glance back towards their captain who was too far down the corridor to notice what was happening. The statue lifted her arm as she continued moving, each large step bringing her closer and closer, the wicked edge of the scythe glinting in the moonlight. Ivan shoved Jean behind him, pushing the other man down the corridor as he faced the statue alone.

  “Let Alek know what’s happening.” Ivan said, his grip around his cutlass slick with sweat. He took a step forward and used his cutlass to block the next swing of the scythe. His hands stung, his feet pushed back at the sheer strength the statue wielded. She advanced. He kept his cutlass up, readying for another strike. Jean’s footsteps faded behind him, but when quick footsteps came running back, his focus slipped. The scythe slipped underneath his cutlass, slicing open his shirt and into the skin beneath.

  Ivan put a hand to his chest, shocked at the blood. The statue raised her scythe again, and he tensed, preparing himself for the killing blow she would no doubt deliver. A familiar silver cutlass, the twin to his own, cut across his vision and blocked the scythe mere inches from his face. Alek hissed, his hands tightened around the hilt of his weapon and pushed back with all his might. The statue stumbled, clearly taken off guard by his sudden appearance. Alek glanced at Ivan, a quick flash of dark eyes, a grimace at the sight of blood before stepping firmly between his first mate and the statue.

  “Get back to the ship.” Alek ordered.

  “I’m not leaving you.” Ivan said with a shake of his head.

  “I’ll be right behind you. Ivan, go!”

  Everything in him rebelled at the order, but he sheathed his cutlass and ran back into the corridor. He stopped halfway, the candlelight flickering around him, and glanced back to his captain. A brief clang sounded as two weapons met then the sound of running feet. True to his word, Alek joined him in the corridor and hastily pushed Ivan ahead of him. The corridor shuddered as the statue hit the low ceiling. Something scraped against the stone. Ivan didn’t dare look back, afraid he’d see it crawling after them.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  They broke out into open air, the moonlight reflecting on dark water as Ivan bent over, hands on knees, gulping down shaky gasps. The blood on his chest had already begun to clot. “You think you’ll live?” Alek asked, worry tightening around his eyes.

  “I think I’ll recover.” Ivan replied dryly.

  “I guess we’ll have to find a back door to get to the treasure.” Alek said.

  Ivan noticed Jean standing at the edge of the chapel, his feet dangerously close to the edge. “Jean?”

  He pointed a shaking finger out towards their ship. Ivan swore. The ship, their ship, their crew, was not where they’d left it. Instead, it was at least a mile away and still moving.

  “What do they think they’re doing?” Alek asked, his fingers tightening on the cutlass he still gripped in his hand. “They’re just going to abandon their captain?”

  Their captain who hadn’t taken their misgivings to heart, had stared out at the darkening sea, at the growing storm, with a strange fervor that had even Ivan concerned for their safety. Ivan hated the lack of surprise at their betrayal, yet it did nothing to quell the sickening sinking of his gut. They were stranded here without even a lifeboat to row to a different shore. Abandoned in the middle of the dark sea.

  “What are we going to do?” Ivan found himself asking.

  “Not panic.” Alek told him firmly. “Jean, come away from the sea. We’ll figure this out.”

  Jean didn’t move, his eyes staring at their retreating ship. “There’s something in the water.” He said distantly, his eyes glazed with a growing horror.

  Ivan squinted at their ship, at the water it threw against its hull. There. Barely noticeable at first. A shadowy shape moved in the water. He caught the barest hint of a large tentacle before it slipped beneath their ship. As they watched, eight huge tentacles rose from the sea, rising higher than their ship’s highest mast. Ivan took a step forward even though there was nothing he could do. On the deck, he could see the remainder of their crew running about.

  The skull of Blackheart, abandoned at the entrance to the chapel, cackled, that strange light in the empty sockets brighter than ever now. “That be Ellie. A bit late than usual. Most people don’t even get the pleasure of seeing me treasure.”

  “You knew.” Alek spun to the skull, a mix of shock and horror on his face. “You knew this would happen. You led us here—”

  “I led ye to me treasure. Just as ye wanted.”

  “How do we get out of here?”

  “Ye don’t. A watery death awaits the lot of ye.”

  A splintering crack split the air. Alek spun just in time to watch those tentacles wrap around the entirety of the ship. The hull caved into itself, letting a deluge of water rush in as the masts snap and fell to the deck. The lucky ones of their crew were killed instantly; others jumped ship into the dark waters. Screams filled the air as the creature used one tentacle to snatch men from the water. They struggled all the way to the sharp teeth as the creature dined on their men. Alek looked sick, his face pale and fists clenched at his side, but there was nothing they could do except watch.