'The Corrupted Lust'

 Eyes wide in horror, he turned back to the crew.

"Sea...Sea...Sea monsters. SEA MONSTERS!"

The seadogs began to laugh at the lily-livered weakling. 

"Maybe the captain should have thrown him overboard."

"We could still throw him over. Send him to the sea-monsters." Brittle laughter echoed.

Phillip was running around the deck grabbing anyone he could, each man either snarling and shrugging him off, or laughing straight into his face. His terror growing, Phillip flew at the captain exclaiming that  sea-monsters had grabbed Ava and dragged her under. Within moments, Captain Roberts had his revolver cocked and aimed at the space between Phillip's eyebrows. 

"I would not come closer, Master Edwards. You are alive as a bargaining chip but you're not that valuable. If you piss me off, I will not hesitate to shoot you where you stand."

"But the sea-monsters, Captain. They dragged Ava under. I saw their arms..."

"I am not capable of mercy, boy. Do not push me." The Captain's aim stayed steady. 

"But the arms...scaly...they...they grabbed Ava."

"You're more yellow-bellied than I thought possible. Sea-monsters are codswallup. I would stop testing my patience now."

"But Captain..." The gunshot thundered across the ship. Phillip's body fell to the floor with a dull thud. The crew barely looked up at the noise. The captain stalked back to his cabin. Shortly after his door closed, he heard the splash of a body hitting the water. He should have thrown the weakling overboard a long time ago. Better him than the wench. Who was she to face off against the Dread Pirate Roberts? He tried to be angered by the thought of that insubordinate woman daring to stand her ground against him, but he was merely impressed and tinged with frustration at having to throw her overboard. Having her on the ship would have been...entertaining. The wench was also rather enjoyable to look at too. Months at sea surrounded by nothing but dirty men, fish and the depths, and he had launched one hell of a woman overboard. Dread Pirate Captain he may be, but he was still a man. 

But women on a ship were bad luck, and women like her were trouble. The best kind of trouble, but trouble all the same. With a storm on the horizon, he needed neither bad luck, nor trouble, no matter the attractiveness of it's packaging. 

Captain Roberts awoke to a feminine presence next to his bed. Long, red curls framing her delicate features; the softness of which was contrasted by the steel in her eyes. 

"You think I was bad luck on this ship, I'm going to be worse now that you have thrown me to the sea." Ava's lips twisted into a sneer, then they parted to reveal razor-sharp fangs. They appeared to be blood-stained, but, in the light of the moon, Robert's could not be sure. 

Fangs bared and hissing, Ava launched herself at Captain Roberts. 

Roberts jumped up, knife from under his pillow drawn, ready to fight the ferocious woman - only to be met with an empty room. The strong smell of fish poisoned the air, more so than would be expected on even a pirate ship. Puddles of water had appeared on the floor overnight. It was as if something soaked in water had been dragged through the room. The puddles ended at the cabin window. The locked cabin window. His door was locked too. The keys to which were strung around his neck, tucked into his shirt, where they always were. No one could have gotten in or out. He searched the room for any other signs of an intruder, but found none. 

His moment of unease was interrupted by a pounding at the door. He unlocked and gruffly swung open the door. His first mate, Givvens, looked uneasy. 

"Captain. There's a gash in one of the sails. It's still at least four days 'til we hit land. Won't be able to get it mended 'til then. Patched it up best we can an' all Captain, but won't last in the storm."

"Set course for the nearest land and keep that sail mended, even if it means using the shirts off the Crew's back."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

Captain Roberts slammed the door and went to grab his pistol and hat. A shadow watched him through the window. In his peripheral, the Captain could have sworn he saw a figure, but when he turned to face it, there was no one and nothing there. Still, the feeling of being watched persisted. 

Each night from then on, Captain Roberts was visited by the woman tossed overboard. Some nights she was angry and violent. Fangs and hissing. Roberts would awaken to a locked window, locked door and long trails of water through his cabin. More than once he woke up with bite and scratch marks marring his flesh. 

Other nights, Ava was sorrowful and  questioning, asking why he had thrown her overboard, claiming that it was his guilt haunting him, not her. 

"Why would you throw me away?" 

Then there were the nights when she spoke the thoughts he had refused to acknowledge. 

"We could have been great together. You may not want to admit it, but you need a Pirate Queen. It could have been me. Deep down you know you wanted it to be me."

Each morning brought a new inconvenience. Their usual fishing co-ordinates were suddenly abandoned by all marine life; small leaks would appear in the hull; members of his crew were falling overboard with alarming frequency; the figurehead was mysteriously beheaded; the ships flag disappeared and clear skies were inexplicably accompanied by rough waters. The Corrupted Lust did not see a minute of calm sea for weeks. And while the seas were rough, Captain Roberts did not have a moment of relief from the feeling of being watched. A dark figure hovered continually just at the edge of his sight. Sometimes, he could swear he saw long, red curls and piercing green eyes, but Roberts put that down to his nightly visits. Ava has been consistently on his mind ever since he'd had her in his grasp and let her go.

Gradually, Captain Roberts began to realise that he was being followed by the sound of nails being scraped along the wood and glass of the ship. Whatever was haunting him, it was closing in. 

Weeks later, the Dread Pirate Roberts awoke not to Ava glaring at him, or nails scraping at the glass window, but to being dragged out of said window, into the sea. Before he could scream, or even take a deep breath, he was under water. Scales and fins flashed passed his eyes and long tails swirled around him. He couldn't clearly see a face, whatever was surrounding him, they were too quick and too many. Terror flowed through his veins as he desperately tried to hold his breath, while whatever creatures were dragging him down, biting and scratching his flesh as they went. With no knife or pistol, and moments from losing consciousness, The Dread Pirate Roberts' attempts to fight off his captors were feeble at best. Eventually, his lungs gave out and Captain Roberts lost consciousness, knowing this was the end. 

He awoke, gasping for breath on the floor of his cabin in a puddle of seawater. His clothes were torn and his skin punctured by claw and teeth marks. As always, the windows and door were locked and there were no signs of an intruder. 

The Dread Pirate Roberts knew that his days were numbered. He had been marked for death. 

From that night on, there was no sign of Ava. Her visits now seemed pleasant compared to what he was now being put through. If he wasn't being drowned or waterboarded, he was waking up with his knife to the throat of one of his crew, where moments ago he had been fighting for his life against a faceless enemy. He had already lost three men that way and was now looking down the barrel of a mutiny. Even Givvens was beginning to turn on him. 

Before he could rebuild his terrifying influence over his crew, while he slept, he dreamt of a beautiful voice singing to him from across the ocean, calling to him. 

The sound of a gunshot woke him abruptly, and Captain Roberts was suddenly faced with the sight of Givvens' body lying in the middle of the deck, blood pouring from a bullet wound in his chest. 

The singing hit his ears again, and before he could form a thought, he was changing the ship's course to follow the voice. He couldn't stop himself. He had to find the owner of the beautiful voice. 

The Corrupted Lust hit the shore of a small, deserted island. As if in a trance, Roberts followed the siren song to a pile of rocks. A beautiful woman was sat atop the top rock. As Captain Roberts neared, he could identify the woman both as the source of the bewitching song, and as Ava. He knew he was awake this time, this was no dream, so how was this possible? No one could survive being thrown off of his ship in that storm at those co-ordinates. 

Climbing up the rocks, Captain Roberts made his way to Ava, her voice still possessing him. Once he reached her, sat there in a torn dress, her hair dancing in the wind, and her eyes boring into him. Before he could really get a good look at her, he grabbed her, gripping her around the waist, like he had all those weeks ago. Ava stopped singing and the haze disappeared. Captain Roberts could see through the holes in her dress that her skin was entirely scales. In that moment, Ava bared razor-sharp fangs and her claws dug into his flesh. 

A moment later, Ava used her tail to launch them into the air and off of the rocks, which, without the haze, Roberts could now see was a giant cliff. The second the two hit the water, dozens of other scaled women descended on the Captain like a pack of hyenas. 

All that was left to be found of the Dread Pirate Roberts was a Captain's hat floating on the surface of the ocean.