The Final Decree

If found, please deliver to Captain Benjamin Flint Reynolds of Mistral Cove, Captain of The Annabel. 

My Dearest Reynolds,

I hope this letter finds you well, though I fear the contents will bring you sorrow. I pen these words with a heavy heart, for I am burdened with the weight of regret and the knowledge of the pain my actions have caused. My friend, some truths must be revealed, however agonizing they may be, to spare you from embarking on a futile journey that would only lead to more questions. I will recount the events exactly as I recorded them in my log.

When my fleet's crown jewel, The Victoria, failed to return from the volcanic islands, we set sail to coordinates 15° N, 145° E to locate them. The crew, led by Captain Henry Ames Harper, had been tasked with delicately recovering a large cylindrical capsule. They had strict orders to find it and bring it to me at once. Its retrieval was a critical and sensitive matter that I would have only entrusted to you or Captain Harper. 

Knowing Captain Harper yourself, you can imagine my fear when he failed to return. For this reason, I selected our fastest ship, The Phoenix, to set sail in search of him. I prayed that his indomitable spirit had merely led him on an unforeseen detour. Having sent more than half of my crew with Captain Harper, I took those that remained and we set out at once. As I'm sure you would expect, First Mate Ellie Regina Riggs accompanied me.

In four days' time, we sailed upon The Victoria, finding her afloat and anchored in a thick fog. Ellie spotted her first and alerted me from the bow. Through my spyglass, I observed The Victoria's disheveled state. The splintered wood, the tattered sails, and an undeniable stillness on the deck. A lump rose in my throat. I feel ashamed, but I must confess to you, my most trusted confidant, that at this moment, my fear was not for the fate of Captain Harper and the crew but for the capsule.

And Ellie. Sweet Ellie, whom I've loved and trusted for more than three decades. Why did I dismiss her when she said the ship looked like a trap? She had an intuition I relied on so often, yet I regarded her thoughts as nothing more than fear when I should have listened to her the most. I was set on locating the capsule and the crew seemed determined to find out what happened to their comrades. However, beneath the surface, I suspected their interest was in the gems they believed the capsule contained. Shamefully, I preyed upon their greed, for it held not riches but something far more sinister. Unlike the others who sought it for nefarious purposes, I intended to locate and relinquish it to the depths of the sea where it would never be found. You must trust me, Reynolds; the capsule's contents were far worse than I could have imagined.

When we boarded The Victoria, I say to you, I was unprepared for what we came upon. Across the deck, the mangled bodies of The Victoria's crew were strewn about. Their extremities were twisted in unnatural angles, and each had deep gashes that made me wonder how any limbs were still attached. I scanned the faces, but each was more unrecognizable than the last. The sight was dreadful. Indeed, most men would have regarded it with an expression of sympathy or a profound declaration of remorse. But all I could muster was a murmured and breathy "Dear God."

The voices of my crew all around echoed the question: What could have done this? 

I hesitated for a moment. Pirates were ruthless, but this brutality was beyond even the darkest tendencies. These men had been ripped apart, some even shredded. There was no explanation I could offer for such mutilation. I should have given the order to retreat to The Phoenix at that very moment. But I chose to keep to the mission of locating the capsule. It was all that mattered then. My thoughts were on protecting others instead of those closest to me.

Ellie protested my order, an act she had never been so brazen to commit in front of others. This uncharacteristic act of boldness should have been enough to shake me into a more logical frame of mind, but regrettably, it did not.

"Have you forgotten why we came here, mate?" I shouted, addressing her not by her name. Her eyes narrowed to mere slits as I turned to the crew and continued. "Find the capsule. These men are gone, but our mission remains. Find it!" 

I should have listened to her, Reynolds. All of this could have been avoided. Instead, I turned my back on her. And on my crew. How disgraceful it all is to recount!

I retreated to the bow to resume my watch. Scanning the horizon for any hint of danger, my gaze fell upon a peculiar formation in the distance. I squinted while trying to make sense of it. The rounded shape swelled toward The Victoria, pushing the fog aside as it surged. From its bulbous center, an enormous serpent erupted. Its scaled body cascaded with salt water, and two giant red eyes were ablaze with an angry, primal fury. Row upon row of dagger-like teeth glistened in its open mouth. A second head, affixed with yellow eyes, emerged from its position at the tail end of the beast.

My dearest friend, these details may seem like the ramblings of a man afflicted with sea-madness, but I assure you, every word is the truth. I will admit, at that moment, I questioned the reliability of my vision, but I was not mad or unhinged. Even as the ocean stretched out before me – an infinite reservoir of water daring me to plunge into its depths to end the misery of this plight, my mind was sound. 

I had little time to consider such things as the beast began its attack immediately. All movement became a blur. The crew scattered across the deck, scrambling for weapons, as the serpent's tongue lashed the ship like a massive whip. Splintered wood rained down like a storm of shards pelting against my skin. At my command, we divided the creature's focus. Each head wavered between lashes, hissing and undulating at our movements. I hesitated, torn, then seized my chance as the red-eyed brute reared back in preparation for another lashing attack. I bolted from cover, sprinting across the battered deck. It lunged just as a deafening sound split the air.

Unyielding as always, Ellie had fired one of the small deck cannons. The projectile, though modest in size, impaled its body, throwing the yellow-eyed heathen into a frenzy. Its convulsions and wild thrashes pulled its crimson-eyed counterpart off balance, interrupting its attack. She fired again, unrelenting. The creature grew more agitated each time, whipping and colliding its heads with The Victoria's sails. In a last contorted aquatic display, the serpent lashed its tongue at the mainmast, splintering it before withdrawing into the abyss.

I wish I could conclude my letter here, comrade. However, as swiftly as one peril subsided, a far more ominous threat emerged. The fractured mast crashed, hurling shards and ship fragments into the air above us. Among the flying debris, I saw it. Captain Harper had cleverly hidden the capsule in a compartment beneath the deck. Dimly shimmering in the fog-filtered sunlight, it twirled in a hauntingly tranquil dance before plummeting to its obliteration. The impact released the contents in a haze of dust that dissipated into the surrounding mist.

As they looked upon the remaining pieces of the shattered capsule, I hung my head in shame, just as I do now in recounting these events. There was no salvation to offer. Ellie and my crew remained oblivious to what they had inadvertently inhaled. Their confused expressions turned to me, seeking an explanation for the horrors we had witnessed – the monstrous two-headed serpent, the grotesque fate of The Victoria's crew, and the now empty capsule. Finally, I found myself grappling with the enormity of my failure, and at last, I relented.

"There are no gems," I confessed. "The capsule… it contained an ancient virus hidden within ashes." I tried to explain my intentions - that pirates and others were searching for it to use its contents as a weapon. My words, however, found no reception, and I could not fault them for their anger. I had led my crew, those whom I had sworn to safeguard, to their deaths. 

Ellie's face reflected a storm of emotions that I wish I could discard from my memory. I failed her more than anyone, and I knew it. I surrendered myself to her wrath, ready to accept whatever retribution she and the crew deemed appropriate in their final moments. She stomped forward, shouting. I shut my eyes and waited for a blow to strike, but it never came. Ellie's thunderous tirade was abruptly silenced, replaced by a piercing, agonizing scream that will haunt me long into the afterlife. I dare say what I saw when I opened my eyes was more horrid than the massacre we came upon moments earlier. Her skin, once a smooth, golden brown, was blistering before my very eyes. I caught her in my arms as her body crumbled in pain. Others began suffering the same fate, screeching and falling to the shattered boards of The Victoria's deck. Ellie stared up at me, blinking through tears of blood as she shook violently. I held her close. It was all I could do. And then she was still and silent. My fearless, loyal First Mate - my love, my companion - died in my arms, the look of betrayal cemented upon her face.

It has been one day since these events transpired, and not a single crew member has left The Victoria's deck. Those that did not die in that instant are not unscathed. We are suffering, slowly dying beneath the curtain of the fog. Perhaps our decisions in life have led some of us to endure a more prolonged and agonizing demise, or maybe our fate is an unfathomable consequence of encountering forces beyond mortal comprehension.

My dearest Reynolds, I write this letter to you so you will not seek answers to what became of us as you will not find them. Moments ago, I fired The Victoria's largest cannons at the hull of The Phoenix. What remains of my fleet's fastest ship is slowly descending to her watery grave. Once I secure this letter in its glass vessel and send it off to sea, I will sink what is left of The Victoria, preventing this fate from falling upon anyone else. 

Now, as the hours bleed into one another and our strength wanes, I can only hope you will remember me with fondness. In the end, the sea claims all, be it in life or death. I pray we find peace beyond the veil.

Yours in remorse,

Captain Ulysses Thorne