Well...been having this idea in my mind for a while, and finally got myself to write the story. As a Phantom and Pirates fanatic, I can't help but see the similarities between our old pal Davy and the Phantom. Thus, I like Davy pretty much as much as I like Erik! (And they both have an organ too!)

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean characters (Davy Jones, Jack, Bootstrap Bill, ect) (c) Disney, while Naida and the story are (c) to myself.

Blackness.

Naida struggled to find the surface. But which way was it? Everything was so dark…She couldn't see which was up and which was down. She couldn't breathe. All was darkness, all was black. She tried to scream, simple bubbles, the last of her air and she was suffocating.

I am going to die.

And then she was being dragged upward. Lifted from the water. But still, it was dark. And still it was black.

The hands that held her firmly cut into her pale, delicate arms, and they were colder than the merciless water had been. She was soaked thoroughly, clad in a simple white night-gown, and shivering. As her eyes finally began to adjust to the little light available, she saw the rest of the crew shivering as much as she was. At least one man had his hands clasped, lips moving frantically in prayer. Some sat stock still, as if they were already dead. Everyone, and everything seemed to be wet, and cold, and dark.

Then after a short cackle behind her, the sound of a door opening, and the limping walk of a man with a peg leg. In the dim light, she could only make out the shape of the creature, which was large and seemingly bulky. Two points of a hat were clearly visible against the sky. It seemed that a mist had enveloped them all from nowhere.

The man stopped before the first man. His voice, a sailor's voice, sputtered and popped as he spoke.

"You who is on the threshold of death, would you wish to extend your pitiful life? Escape judgment this night? Would you serve and live, without your sins laid before you?"

The man, shaking, managed a nod, as she saw the creature's face. The skin, if you could call it that, looked mottled gray and green, and almost slimy in this lighting, His head, like an octopus, tentacled beard, each one alive and moving, as if separate, flexible fingers. One hand a terrible claw, crusted in barnacles. The other, like his beard, one finger far longer than the others, and each with more flexibility than one would consider to be normal.

He went down the line, asking almost the same question to each man.

Naida gasped silently as she watched one man thrown mercilessly to the sea after rejecting this monster's offer. Unable to move, being held fast by horrifying mash of shells and barnacles that was apparently part of this crew, she writhed as the captain finally approached. His peg-like crab leg gave a heart-stopping thud, as he stopped before her, scrutinizing her with icy blue eyes.

She whimpered involuntarily, as he wrapped a tentacled finger around her arm. Instead of turning away, she stared at her own hands, mortified. She did not listen as he spoke to her, and to his crew.

Finally she looked up, and heard a few quick words.

"...but no, death is only too kind." He sputtered. "...for a woman..."