A great force had now occupied the sea a rage without stop. This was drowning. Infinite. It covered everything. A single man's killing intent was a great and dangerous force that choked the sea. Truly, such a devil had existed within him in its pure form.
Gareth was now on the split great vessel that the Black Ledger stood on.
It was horrific.
The pirate men of the Black Ledger all looked at him and immediately lost all morale and will to fight. Because as they saw him, they didn't simply see a man they saw something too evil and too dangerous to approach. The malice radiated from him in waves, pressing against their souls, crushing their spirits, drowning their thoughts in a sea of terror.
Each of them, in fear, dropped their weapons. Their hands released their cutlasses, their pistols, their daggers the steel clattering against the wooden deck, the sound lost in the chaos of the storm. They could not even think of fighting. Could not even imagine raising a blade against this figure.
These men shit themselves.
Their bodies betrayed them their bowels loosening, their bladders releasing, their fear manifesting in the most primal way possible. The stench of urine and excrement filled the air, mixing with the salt of the sea and the copper of blood.
It was uncertain if they would live.
No it would be better to say it was certain that they would perish. For there was no continuation of their lives. Death was as certain as every breath they took.
One of them looked at Gareth directly in the eye.
He stared into that gaze cold, empty, absolute and something inside him broke. In a flash, he turned back, ready to run. And such, the seed of fear was sown deep into their hearts.
All men of the Black Ledger turned around, running.
But the first that started stopped running.
His body froze. His eyes widened. Tears poured from his face hot, uncontrollable, shameful. He shook like a man who has a great fever, his body convulsing, his teeth chattering, his mind screaming.
He could not even move any further.
He shouted.
"I WILL CHOOSE MY OWN FATE!"
His voice was raw, desperate, aching. He grabbed a hold of his own neck his fingers wrapping around his throat, his nails digging into his flesh, his grip tightening.
He pressed it harder.
And harder.
And HARDER.
His face turned purple. His eyes bulged. His tongue protruded from his mouth. And then his body went limp.
He took his own life.
Within his eyes was a deep horror. But beneath the horror, there was the joy of knowing he had taken his own life. He had chosen. He had controlled something.
The others saw him.
They began to follow in the same footsteps.
Some plunged themselves into the sea their bodies splashing into the dark water, disappearing beneath the waves, joining the monsters that waited below.
Some chose death by running toward Davina Jones their bodies charging toward the abomination, offering themselves to her tentacles, finding a quick end.
One man stabbed himself in the head.
He drove a dagger through his temple SHLIK! ending it all in a single, final moment.
One man sat there on the floorboard, unable to take his own life. He was frozen. Paralyzed. His body would not obey. His will was gone. He shed tears.
Truly, without much effort, the battle on the ship changed direction. Instead of fighting, these warriors willingly gave their lives.
The Black Ledger stood there.
His eyes cold, calculating, ancient fixed on Gareth. His body was still. His heart was pounding. His mind was racing.
He grabbed a long sword.
The blade was the length of a short man longer than the standard cutlass, thicker than the navy saber. It was heavy, balanced, deadly. The steel gleamed in the storm-light.
He raced forward.
This man was not subdued by the mass of hate and pain. Rather, he was filled with passion. His passion raced against everything else at that moment. It burned in his chest like a fire that could not be extinguished.
The Black Ledger rushed him.
He felt true fear within his heart the cold grip of terror that tried to stop his legs, that tried to make him turn, that tried to save him. But unlike others who fell for that great fear, he went on. He did not accept it.
He rejected the fear.
Even if it made him want to go mad.
Upon getting closer to Gareth, his mind started giving up. The weight of the killing intent pressed against him crushing his thoughts, blurring his vision, stealing his will.
But he fought on.
Just to exist.
He wanted to learn about how Gareth's body worked. He needed to understand. The desire burned in him stronger than the fear, stronger than the pain, stronger than anything.
He said to himself, his inner voice strained, focused, desperate.
This demon... why are you looking so weak? He studied Gareth's form the weariness, the exhaustion, the acceptance of death that seemed to hang on him like a shroud. Why do you look like you have accepted the cold embrace of death... but yet you still move on?
He tightened his grip on the sword.
What's this? He smiled a thin, bloody, fear-filled expression. I really want to get my sword into you.
His eyes tears streaming from them, fear twisting his face gleamed with a thrill that he was getting. A thrill that drowned out the terror. A thrill that made him feel alive.
The Black Ledger charged.
Gareth stood still.
And the sea roared.