The deep, black waves rose with frightening heights, lifting a large vessel known as the Titan along in their wake. Standing at the wheel, the captain of the ship hollered commands at the bustling crew. His long black hair clung to his face, meeting with his scruffy beard. The hair could not, however, hide the years’ worth of wrinkles surrounding his eyes and forehead. His deeply tanned hands were almost white, grasping the wheel of the ship like a boa constrictor. His 5’9” frame was the greatest of the crew below him, giving him an air of respect.“Raise the sails!” He shouted, straining to be heard over the crack of lightning and the thundering rain. The freezing members of his crew did their best to obey his commands, for he treated them kindly and with a certain respect to gain their loyalty. Judas, the captain’s second in command and one of his closest advisers, leapt over a large bundle of ropes. His bare feet landed with a splash, and he nearly slipped several times climbing the stairs to the poop deck. “Captain,” he said, shouting over the commotion.
“What is it, Judas?”
“We found land, cap’n.”

The large island stood erect from the waves, boldly taking its stand against the raging storm. Several ships marked the island as their graves, their skeletons embedded into its sandy and rocky shores.“We’re going to smash against it, captain!” A deckhand struggled to lower the sails again, hoping to catch the wind and be taken away from the dangerous jagged rocks. “Help him!” shouted the captain of the Titan, but the ship was being pulled almost magically toward the menacing rocks. The crew quickly struggled to help the deckhand, who was losing his grip in the freezing rain. “It’s too late,” said Judas. The captain heaved at the wheel, attempting to steer the rudder away from the island. “This isn’t how I wanted to find it,” the captain said under his breath. He grunted heavily and braced for impact. With a sudden crash, the captain was flung off his feet and was thrust towards a large rocky wall.
~~~

For several generations, the pirates of the Atlantic Ocean during the 17th century had been searching for a mysterious island miles off the coast of the New World, deep in the center of the treacherous ocean. Several famous explorers had tried to find the island to claim the rumored gold hidden deep within, only to find themselves vanished off the face of the Earth. No one ever emerged from the center of the infamous area known as the Bermuda Triangle, a mysterious 500,000 mile expanse of fog and danger. Now, the captain of the Titan, along with his crew, was about to discover the consequences of setting foot on such a coveted island.
~~~

The sun rose over the large rocks surrounding the large island, sending its rays to areas shrouded with fog. The sunlight caused a glittering effect amongst the intense fog. Judas lifted his head slowly, brushing sand from his face. “What happened?” he said to no one in particular, pushing himself groggily off the ground. The water in his clothing weighed him down greatly. He looked around, spotting a few crew members. “Oy, Pete,” he shouted, limping along the beach. Something had penetrated his leg, but he was nervous to remove his leggings to check. The last thing he needed was more stress. He was grateful he could still walk. Pete, a sandy-haired deckhand, heaved heavily, emptying the water from his lungs. Judas hoisted the man onto his feet, thumping him on the back. “You alright?” Judas asked. Pete nodded, and freed himself from his brother’s aid. “I’ll be fine. Let’s try to find everyone else.” Judas nodded, and the two separated to aid their struggling comrades.
~~~

Shipwrecked. The captain of the Titan clung to a massive rock, shivering from the cold water. Pieces of debris floated in the water below, swirling among the sharp jagged rocks. “God help me,” the captain sighed. He slowly made his way to the top of the jagged rock, his dark, greasy hair clinging to his face. He hauled himself over the edge of the jagged rock, and sighed with relieved jubilation as his body met the wonderful security of solid ground. “Where is everyone?” He asked himself, but was quickly distracted from the idea when his eyes met a large, gaping hole. A cave, the captain thought. He warily made his way toward the entrance, adrenaline beginning to flow through him. Gold, the pirate thought, and his actions became much quicker. He unsheathed his rapier, gripping it so hard his fingers became numb. He stepped into the entrance, squinting hard, when it happened. Boom.
~~~

“What was that?” said Pete, looking in the direction of a large rocky mountain. It was not too far away. “I have no idea,” said a wiry crew-member. He was tired and badly wounded, causing his judgement to falter greatly. Judas cupped his ears. “There it is again,” he said. “Sounds like cannons to me,” he added quickly. “Who’s shooting?” Pete asked. “Guess we’ll find out, said a bulky member of the crew. He held a flintlock pistol in his right hand, the other resting on his sheathed scimitar. “The captain could be in trouble,” said Judas. “Let’s go!”

The band of pirates raced through the sandy beach, carefully avoiding the sharp splinters of the once-menacing Titan. At last, they spotted the source of the noise. “It’s the Spanish Inquisition!” reported Pete, pointing at the sails of the grand vessel. The massive ship was crafted with such precision and grace the pirates could not help but stare. “What are they doing here?” Asked Judas, his hand gripped tight on his flintlock pistol “They’re here to kill us,” muttered the wiry crew-member, who was beginning to shake. “Why do you say that, Tomas? Judas queried. Tomas lifted his shaky, pale arm to point at the eerie ship as the ship’s cannons fired, hammering into the rocky cliff above them. “What are they doing?” asked Pete, half amazed by the sturdy mountain. “I don’t know, ” Judas started. “As long as they don’t shoot those at us, we should be fine.” Judas was answered with an ear-shattering boom.
~~~

The captain rushed deeper into the cave as it crumbled around him. Get the gold. Rocks pelted right past the weary pirate, nearly taking his life in the process. Shouting pierced his ears. Is that my crew? He thought. Another crash snapped the captain out of his reverie. He pushed the concern away and continued to rush. The firing continued, causing the entire cave to shake and send more rocks crashing down. Eventually, the captain found what he had been looking for. A giant chest awaited him, laden with gold. The captain, overwhelmed with joy and greed, clamped the chest shut and heaved it towards the exit. Rocks continued to fall around him.
~~~

“They’re firing at us!” shouted a crew-member of the Titan. His screams were cut short by a large chunk of rock that fell off of the mountain. Gunshots cracked through the air, musket balls flying perilously towards the scrambling pirates. “I see the captain!” Pete shouted, pointing over to the beach. Judas turned to see the captain lugging a large chest towards a deserted rowboat on the shore. The distant figure did not seem to be paying any attention to the shooting that was taking place. “Captain!” he shouted. He was not met with the concerned eyes of the captain, however, but with the searing pain of a musket ball in the back. Judas crumpled to the ground. Pete shouted in anger and remorse. He fired his pistol at the large vessel, knocking some of the Spanish Inquisition into the water. He brought down several of the attackers before his life was taken by a musket ball. The remaining crew-members of the Titan continued their defensive fighting, but they were greatly outnumbered and were not equipped well enough to put up a good fight. Desperation and hopelessness ate at the morale of the crew as they fought for their lives.
~~~

The captain of the menacing Titan hefted the chest onto the concealed rowboat, and then helped himself into the boat. The fighting seemed miles away from his location. He paddled furiously, hoping to escape the massacre taking place on the island. The thought of riches filled his mind, and he greedily paddled faster. The sounds of death and gunfire eventually were drowned out by the sound of the waves. The captain had escaped alive and mostly unscathed. His momentary happiness, however, would not last long.

For the next few days the captain floated in his rowboat, drifting off to an unknown location. He
began to feel the loss of his crew after the long silent hours of isolation. Insanity drove out any thoughts of survival as the poor captain cried and raged. He tore his shirt, threw his effects, and tugged at his greasy hair. For days the captain continued in this way, until the boat was tugged ashore by the merciful waves of the Atlantic. The captain, starving and sick from dehydration, had drifted towards land. He hefted the chest of gold, and slowly made his way to a nearby town, where he would remain for the rest of his days. The island had changed the man, adding more wrinkles to his skin and knocking a few years off of his lifespan. He led an isolated life in his little cabin, sleeping most of the day and waking only to eat, unless there was no food, in which he would have to pay someone to buy some for him. Not a single day passed where he didn't ponder the true worth of the gold. For what was the gold worth if it cost him the lives of his crew? Why should it allow him to live while his crew was rotting on the island? These feelings of remorse followed him to the grave. No one knows where the gold went, but rumors circulated around the village that right after the captain had died, several footprints had been seen leading into the captain’s house and back out, trailing off into the ocean towards the mysterious Bermuda Triangle.
~~~