Blackbeard: Terror At Sea Novels & Stories

(William’s P.O.V) Caribbean Ocean, 1835 We have been sailing these waters for a fortnight and have yet to make landfall, we are beginning to lose hope of finding the treasure of Greybeard to break this curse placed upon the families of those who sailed with him. Our family lines have all been cursed with time, we age slowly to the point of immortality. Though Greybeard and his son, my father, have both perished, I need to uncover where the treasure is to reverse the curse that he placed upon us. My first mate, John Drummond, came up to me at the helm with updates on the crews functioning and the distribution of supplies.

Adrian stood on the deck and looked ahead. Then, he leaped into the sea. One of the large ships was brightly lit. It was at the backmost position and it was the command center of the enemies. These ships were carrying Black Nergal’s banner, instantly revealing them as Black Nergal’s members.

Both my socks are torn on the knees but that's the least of my worries because I can hear footsteps approaching me. The footsteps draw nearer and nearest but I'm too scared to scream. All I'm doing now is moving backwards which is quite difficult considering I'm doing it whilst still sitting on the ground, I'm pretty sure I'm bruising my back. "P-please don't hurt m." I beg the silhouette that's drawing nearer and nearer. I still can't see but I can tell it's a man and I'm fearing for my life. "No need to fear." He says and I instantly pick up on the all too familiar british accent.

The LORD has broken the staff of the wicked, the scepter of rulers, that struck the people in wrath with unceasing blows, that ruled the nations in anger with unrelenting persecution. - Isaiah 14:5 * * * * Dawn was just breaking over the horizon when Terror Island came into view. The island was very beautiful once upon a time, with silver sparkling white sand on the beaches, with several species of plant life growing on the island, and a gigantic mansion built on the island that could easily pass as a castle because of the size of it.

When I was five, I was always excited whenever it was time for bed. My Grandma Momma will cook our dinner. Let me brush my teeth and comb my long hair. And after that, she will put me into bed and bedtime stories will follow. She told me a lot of fantasy stories, but my favorite was the pirate of the Lost Sea named Escarial. He was the epitome of perfection. Gentleman, handsome, a knight in shining armor to most of the ladies in their land, and most of all, he caught the heart of the brave princess, Athalia.

assassins remaining in Birmingham to target Antonio and Isabella. Philip had completely lost his mind, with only one thought in his mind, to completely annihilate their family. The ship was about to enter international waters, just one kilometer away, and once it did, the danger would double. The sea was pitch black, and Judy felt an inexplicable fear, a fear of the deep sea. Once falling into the deep sea, one would be lost forever without a trace. The grandmother was also restless, fiddling with her Buddhist beads, when suddenly the string broke, and the beads scattered all over the floor, causing Angel to start crying loudly.

The Black Sea answered with thirty-foot swells, stacked and furious. “Hold the lines!” Vane roared over the wind, massive claws clamped to the phantom-wood railing like it might escape. Something is moving beneath us, Jace’s voice sliced through the mind-link, sharp and terribly analytical. Massive heat signatures. They’re not ships. I hadn’t even finished forming a command when the ocean erupted on our starboard side, violent like a strike delivered from below. A beast the size of a mountain broke the surface. A Leviathan of Blood—an undead deep-sea nightmare, built like a monstrous hybrid of kraken and leviathan, rotting armored hide stitched together by glowing, dark-red veins of blood-ma

But terror was stronger. He had all but crossed the line. And the appearance of what was on the other side had frightened him into a complete retreat. The uncharted currents between them had nearly pulled them under, and Clarkson, the experienced navigator, had chosen to beach himself instead of attempting the journey. —-

The burning skeleton of *The Leviathan* sank into the Pacific with a low, hissing groan that sounded like the final breath of a dying era. By 0800 hours, the black smoke from the harbor had merged with the gray morning fog, wrapping Blackridge in a heavy, protective shroud. The naval destroyer was gone, its multi-million-dollar hull broken against our concrete reefs, leaving the coast entirely under the unyielding law of the road.

At this moment, in the short man's eyes, the fate that belonged to him above Journey Doney's head seemed to be being strangled and slowly dissipated. In front of Journey Doney, the short man could not see the fate of Caspian with his back to them. But he could see a picture. In the boundless pitch-black sea, one stormy wave after another rose. Large amounts of bones and corpses were floating in the sea. These bones and skeletons were extremely large, which was beyond the short man's imagination. The most terrifying thing was that in the sky above the sea, a white bone throne was burning with a ghastly green flame. Its back was facing him as it hovered there quietly.