Gareth landed at the back of the naked gunner, his blade having cut off a part of the man's head. Blood sprayed from the wound dark, thick, arterial painting the deck red, painting Gareth's face red, painting the truth of what had just happened across the chaos of the battle.
The naked gunner began to cry.
His eyes wide, shocked, betrayed filled with tears that mixed with the blood streaming down his face. His body trembled. His knees buckled. He fell to the deck, his hands reaching out as if to grab something he could no longer reach.
He said one word.
Over and over again.
"Why, Captain?" His voice cracked, broke, shattered. "Why?"
He bled.
"This isn't fair, Captain." His words tumbled out, desperate, childlike, aching. "I followed you all the way. All the way! Through every battle, every storm, every monster that rose from the deep. I believed in you. I trusted you."
He fell to his knees.
"And this is how you repay me?"
Gareth looked back at him.
The devil's face still wearing the features of Alaric Vane, the Iron Lantern, the great pirate captain smiled. It was a cold smile. A calculating smile. A smile that held no warmth, no kindness, no remorse.
"It worked." His voice was quiet, almost reverent. "Perfectly."
He looked at his hands at the golden gloves, at the guns as long as his arms, at the illusion he had woven.
What Gareth did was use pure killing intent, he thought, his inner voice calm and analytical. He made himself feel and look like their captain. So real that they would not believe... even if the real one and him were standing side by side.
He watched the gunner weep.
Why?
He answered himself.
Because of emotions.
Emotions are the purest expression of man. The thought settled in his mind like a stone in still water. He used killing intent to manifest the version of the pirate they see. To manifest the greatest emotional figure in their hearts.
He looked at the other pirates the ones who were beginning to gather, who were watching, who were trying to understand what had just happened.
And so, in the presence of one who they hold the greatest emotional strength for...
He smiled.
...they are powerless.
He said to himself, his inner voice growing harder, colder, more certain.
"It is like a child killing a parent."
He thought of the bond the unbreakable, unreasonable, unconditional bond between parent and child.
"The parent feels the greatest of love for their child." His voice was soft. "No matter the amount of resentment that the child may hold toward them... the parent will accept the rage of the child. And accept everything. While forgiving the child."
He looked at the dying gunner at the betrayal in his eyes, at the love that still lingered beneath the pain.
"I'm sure that is what you felt in your death." He paused. "And there will be no continuation for you."
He turned away.
"I will make sure that is what all will feel." His voice dropped. "On this Infinite Sea."
He stepped forward.
A group of pirates came out standing side by side, their boots planted, their weapons raised, their faces hard. Each of them held a cigarette in their mouths, the smoke curling up into the storm-dark sky.
This was a sub-crew.
Led by the gunner that Gareth had just killed.
Gareth bled a bit from his nose a thin trickle of crimson that traced down his upper lip, dripping onto his chin, wetting his collar. His eyes got a bit dizzy the world swimming around him, the edges blurring, the sounds of battle fading in and out.
So, he thought, it's hitting me back. Very badly.
He wiped the blood from his nose.
By using the power of killing intent multiple times... at such intensity... it's draining my head.
He steadied himself.
He looked at them.
Eight men.
Each of them wearing a black suit pressed, clean, sharp with a hat that had a pirate emblem on it. The emblem was gold a skull with crossed cutlasses, the same symbol that flew on the Black Tide Squadron's flags.
They all smiled.
As they showed their gold teeth.
Gareth smiled back.
He showed his clean teeth white, straight, ordinary in comparison to their gilded grins.
"Hey." His voice was light, almost cheerful. "How do you guys manage your hygiene?"
He tilted his head.
"It's pretty disgusting."
Before he could do anything, one of them drew a gun.
BANG!
The bullet shot forward spinning through the air, screaming toward its target and slammed into Gareth's foot.
THWACK!
The pain was immediate blazing, white-hot, sharp. Blood poured from the wound, staining his boot, pooling on the deck beneath him.
Gareth did not cry out.
He did not stumble.
He did not fall.
He used it to his advantage.
His weak leg pushed off the deck launching his body into the air, propelling him toward the shooter. His other leg extended foot aimed, heel leading, force concentrated.
CRACK!
His kick slammed into the shooter's face smashing his nose, shattering the cartilage, spraying blood across his black suit. The man reeled back, his hands rising to his ruined face, his mouth opening in a scream that did not come.
Gareth did not stop.
His fingers shot forward two of them, extended, sharp, precise and plunged into the man's eyes.
SHLIK!
The scream came then.
Loud. Raw. Primal.
The man fell his body crashing to the deck, his hands clawing at his face, his blood mixing with the tears that poured from his ruined sockets.
One of the other gunmen shouted out to the rest of the crew that were around.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" His voice was panicked, desperate, fearful. "COME AND HELP US!"
He pointed at Gareth.
"LET'S TAKE THIS MOTHERFUCKER DOWN NOW!"
Gareth smiled.
He killed one of them a quick stab with his curved sword, a gurgle of blood, a thud as the body hit the deck.
"Do you know," he said, his voice calm despite the chaos around him, "what the greatest weapon to exist is?"
He looked at the remaining gunmen at their fear, at their panic, at the certainty of death that was beginning to dawn in their eyes.
"It's fear."
He stepped over the body.
"Fear edges itself deep into the human soul. It creates an unforgettable scar." He touched his chest over his heart. "One that not even time is able to heal."
He looked at them.
"You see... that's what they are facing."
He paused.
"That is true fear." His voice dropped. "The type of fear, regret, and pain that brings one to take their own life."
Gareth stood among the bodies.
His foot bled.
His nose bled.
His smile remained.
And the sea roared.