Disclaimer: I do not own Disney or any of the characters of the Pirates of the Caribbean. This story is an Alternate Reality.

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How Far Are You Willing…?

The Empress prowled the waters, looking for prey. Her crew dreamt of coins and baubles. Their Captain – their King – was hunting for something less expensive and far more valuable.

The waddling merchant ship, captained by a man as fat and easy-going as his vessel, sailed into the web. His ruddy cheeks paled at the sight of the pirate's colors flapping in the breeze but it wasn't until hours later when his mast was broken pieces of timber, drifting in the ocean and the Captain boarded his ship that his courage failed him.

He and his paltry crew were lined kneeling on the deck before the Captain. One cabin boy was bleeding at the knee where a one-eyed pirate had stabbed him, but other than that, no one was injured. His men were sailors not pirates. They had not put up a fight.

As one, their heads fell from their necks and the blood seeped through the wooden deck.

The air was filled with the sighs of a dozen ghosts and the Captain of the Empress smiled, brown eyes shimmering with fevered anticipation.

The sun vanished. It didn't disappear behind a cloud. It just vanished. Coldness crept through the thin clothes of the pirate crew. They started in the middle of their looting.

And the Flying Dutchman ascended from the waters.

The pirate crew screamed at the double horror of the Captain of the Dead and the corporeal spirits of their recently murdered victims.

"Will!" cried the Pirate King. "I came to find you!"

The horror on the faces of her crew was nothing compared to that on the face of her husband.

"Elizabeth, what have you done?"

Fin