Siren

His Treasure

---Cain's POV---

Anger coursed through my veins as I was forced to walk to the edge of the brig. These yellow-bellied cowards, these landlubbers were preening like a peacock now for having me in irons, Aye. Drugging my pint of rum, even bribing some of my crew to go against me and let these bilge rats get their hands on me.

My nostrils flared as I felt the slight jab in my back, the trickle of blood soon following. Almost instantly, the large fin that had been circling in the distance turned sharply, as if eager for a taste.

"Time to take a swim, Captain. To think that the great Captain Cain, Death's messenger, will end up as shark bait." I heard him spat at my feet and cured my lip in suppressed anger. "Wouldn't have expected more from a negro." The man behind me roared with sickening laughter, his gaggle of a crew chortling along as they prodded me further off the ship.

'T was true that they called me Death's messenger, amongst other things. Slave used to be one of them but that was before my mother had slit our so called Master's throat when he tried to force himself onto my sister. May the lord have mercy on her soul.

Over the years I had fought for our survival, earned respect amongst other man despite them being fair skinned. They quickly learned not to mess with the Angel of Death. And these slugs with blubber for brains would learn soon enough.

As one of them went for another stab, I managed to turn around on my feet and grasped his dagger before plunging it in his own gut. The man bared his yellowed teeth in pain or shock, eyes focusing on my hands as I shoved the blade deeper before ripping it out.

My ears rang with several curses and slurs, the half intoxicated crew rushing forwards in an attempt to overwhelm me. Dodging a slice for my chest, I managed to swirl around one of my captors, moving the blade behind me to slit his throat as I spun around.

I would've easily stand my ground against this band of misfits, but I noticed Vernon grabbing for his daggers and decided against fighting.

The bilge rat was exceptional with his throwing knives, especially in close quarters. So knowing I had more chance to escape my chains before ending up in a watery grave, I stepped backwards and off the ship, making sure to throw my borrowed weapon straight into one of the traitors' forehead.

And then I was engulfed by the cold saltness of the sea. Instantly the weights pulled me down as I tried to reach down and force these shackles from my legs. I had hoped that they'd used cheap material that had rusted over the years but it seemed that the good Lady fortune wasn't smiling upon me.

My eyes burned as I forced them to open, wanting to see the daylight before I perished. So this was it huh? Betrayed by mutineers and forced to an early meeting with the creators. To be crushed by the depts of the sea...

But as I noticed a massive blur heading my way, I soon realized that my death wouldn't be so peaceful. Another Angel of Death was gliding my way effortlessly through the water, its mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth.

Air bubbled out of my mouth as I glared at the beast, unwilling to admit my defeat. Surprisingly, the beast seemed to pause, hesitant . Yet it continued its path, those jaws opening wide to show a set of teeth that could rip me apart.

A rush of water forced me to spin around, bubbles floating up towards the darkening surface as a cloud of red burst free and muddled the water. I could see fins churning up the water above me before I blinked, struggling against my bonds. My lungs were protesting quickly, ears popping as I was dropping lower and lower.

The water grew colder by the second, my surroundings darkening until I halted with a jerk. Suddenly I was freed from the weights on my feet and arms, able to kick and swim on my own. But that was also the moment I spotted a blur heading my way.