The sea was a tranquil pool of sapphire. Still and peaceful, yet strangely dangerous.
Bilgewater loomed, obscured in a dark fog, which twisted and crept through the streets, reaping the souls of the dead. Empty canoes drifted in narrow canals, clinking in chains. There was the echo of footsteps running. The lifeless eyes of beasts in the slaughter docks watched the pursuit of two humans, as they raced through the labyrinth. The taller figure stopped and threw something at the other. Wharf-rats shrieked and withered, as a gunshot split the silence of the city.
A bloodied knife clattered to the ground. A figure was sprawled on the dock; his eyes blank. A hole in his chest.
A woman stood over him, panting heavily. She glared at the body before her and spat. Good riddance. Her arm was coated in a sheen of red. He had surprised her, odd. Her finger tentatively touched the large gash in her forearm. It didn’t hurt, yet; adrenaline still coursed through her. She holstered her gun with a sigh, and turned from the scene.
Miss Fortune was clad in a cloak of white and gold. She strode along the dock in high heeled boots, her crimson hair draped in a braid over her shoulder. Tearing a piece of inner-lining from her cloak, she wrapped it firmly around her wound, wincing ever so slightly. She glanced at the sky. The full moon reflected in her eyes.
Grim faces appeared in the windows of shops and peeked through the drapes of homes in the cliff face. “_The bounty hunter dis tonight._” They whispered.
Up ahead, the firelight of a tarven flickered and died. Miss Fortune frowned and tested the air. No wind, not even the slightest breeze. She approached and tried the door. Locked.
Her eyes narrowed. The Drowned Siren was never locked.
She continued down the dock.
In a nearby alleyway, a soft humming could be heard. A beautiful woman, with hair the colour of the moon, was leaning against a flagstone wall, cleaning her blade. It glowed with a cerulean aura, as she polished it. At her breast hung a violet orb which radiated with light. Occasionally she would pause to touch the pendant, as if out of habit.
She suddenly fell silent, and looked up. There was the distant sound of boots against wood approaching. She smiled icily. Finally.
Turning her blazing eyes on the man slumped at her feet, she raised a finger to her lips.
“Shh…” She went back to cleaning her blade.
“What is that weapon? A sickle sword?” The man wheezed, spitting blood.
“Khopesh.” Diana hissed, admiring the crescent shaped blade. “Very effective.”
“I know-” he coughed, his body racking with pain, “- from experience.”
He lifted his hand from where it lay on his chest, to reveal a large slash. “Why don’t you just kill me now, lass?”
She eyed him with amusement, and kicked an object his way. “That’s not my job-” the man lifted the object to the moonlight, to see a black leather pirate hat.
Diana sneered, “_Captain_ Gangplank.”
Miss Fortune knocked violently on the blacksmiths door. “Ornson! Open up!”
She peered through the window on her left. The forge wasn’t even warm. All the weapons had been stowed somewhere out of sight, as the walls were bare. The whole room was in darkness.
“Scoundrel!” She spat, kicking the door. _What a time to be sailing the seas…_
She started as lightning flashed and her face was illuminated in the window. Cold blue eyes, shadowed by the feathered hat, stared back at her. Her lips stretched in a smirk.
She stepped back from the window, her hand flying to her gun. _She hadn’t been smiling._
Her image had come and gone in a split second, though it’s memory still echoed in her eyes.
She shook herself. Something was wrong. Miss Fortune spun on her heel to view the still sea.
“Lightning? Why isn’t it raining…” She muttered.
She approached the side of the water and gazed into it. The back of her neck prickled. There was something off about it’s surface. It was strange to see the sea so still, though there was something more.
Miss Fortune grabbed her gun, cocked it, and aimed it into the water. She fingered the trigger, almost as if she was daring the water to make the first move.
And that it did.
She flinched as another flash of lightning irradiated the sea.
Looking up at her from under the water was a man. He grinned at her wickedly, a single turquoise eye burning into her own. Her heart pounded as his silvery hair obscured his face and the water went dark again.
_BANG!_ Water splashed the dock as her bullet hit the water. A trail of smoke emitted from her pistol. Miss Fortune stumbled back, pulling her second gun from its holster.
She watched the water ripple and grow still. She stared at it for a moment longer, as if for reassurance, before turning away.
Miss Fortune had fought the scourge nearly all her life, and knew there was something off about this one. She reloaded her gun. Though what did it matter? Now it was dead- truly dead -and sinking to the sea floor. A ghost of smile appeared on her lips. Just a day's work.
Somewhere in the darkness, a man screamed. At first, Miss Fortune thought nothing of it. _It’s just the Bilgewater life… I’ll get them in the morning._ However she paused as an icy chill washed over her. A hollow voice spoke out of the dark.
“_Shhh… Sleeeep…_” There was a deep chuckle, and then the gurgle of a dying man. It came from the nearby alleyway. Miss Fortune’s eyes glistened in the moonlight. _More of the Damned seek release tonight?_ Treading lightly, she started for it; guns at hand.
“_Smells like fancy captain…_” The voice breathed again.
She grinned. _Welcome to my world creep._ Slipping up against a flagstone wall, she peered around the corner of the alleyway. Lightning flashed.
Three figures. Two standing, one dead- his neck slashed by a serrated weapon. Miss Fortune’s breath caught. She recognized the man. _Gangplank. How?_
A woman with glowing eyes stepped forward. Her pearly teeth shone in the moonlight. To her right, a young man slouched. His face was scarred. One eye burning orange.
“_Captain Sarah Fortune…_” He taunted. “_My list just got longer._”
Before she could react, his form shattered into a thousand water drops and he vanished from sight. The woman smiled and dashed towards her. Her blade alight with arcane energy.
Miss Fortune fired her gun. Diana glided past the bullet with ease. Another shot. She shielded herself with a bubble, and pulled back her khopesh to send an arch of aqua light towards Miss Fortune. She dodged it, red hair coming loose.
There was a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye. Diana sneered and lunged. Miss Fortune froze as a shadow of salt water hit her.
The scarred man appeared beside her clutching a large serrated dagger. He laughed again.
She couldn’t move.
Diana slashed, hitting Miss Fortune’s chest with her blade. It wasn’t deep enough to be fatal, though still her body screamed. Desperate, she lifted her guns and fired unmercilessly. Through the locks of her hair, she watched Diana collapse dead. Her body fading to pure moonlight. She then spun on her heel to see Pyke, the Bloodharbour Ripper, leap into the air, bearing his dagger to deliver the death sentence. “_NO. MORE. CAPTAINS!_”
Miss Fortune dropped to her knees as she felt ice cold water rise from below and consume her. She wanted to flail, she wanted to kick, though instead she gave into death. The souls of all those she had killed dragged her down. She sunk until all that could be seen was blackness, and all that could be heard was _his_ voice,
“_Welcome to the abyss._”