He had done her bidding for ten years and now the time had come for him to collect his heart's desire. She had promised to be his forever when she had lain in his arms and he had counted every day that had kept him away from her. Now he was back to claim that promise. It was suddenly sunset as he steered the ship into the bay where he had left her.

"Caly," he whispered, "I'm back." The anchors dropped and he could feel his heart racing with joy. This goddess of a woman was his.

He got in the rowboat alone and left the ship behind. With each dip of the oars, he could feel his heart beat out a rhythm that called her name.

When the boat ground to a slow halt on the sand, he jumped into the water and pulled it further ashore. She was nowhere to be seen. His heart skipped a beat, but he doubted only for a second. Then he remembered the cottage.

He ran down the beach and into the woods towards their lovers' nest. They had spent many sweet sunsets together there and he was looking forward to having her limbs tangled around him again. He noticed that there were no lights in the windows. His heart grew cold within his chest.

"Perhaps she's fallen asleep waiting for me," he said to the cool dusk air. When he burst through the door though, the truth lay before him as thick as the dust upon everything around him. His heart stopped and he felt as if he would die. She had betrayed him, his lovely Calypso. And he had been nothing but faithful to her, the first woman who could claim such a thing from him. He ran from the cottage back down the beach with tears streaming down his cheeks.

"No!" he screamed with rage into the night, "No!" His heart beat a rhythm that would call her name night after night after night and he couldn't bear it. He would not keep a heart that would belong to her, not after this. He pulled a knife from his belt and plunged it into his chest. He fell to his knees at the shock of pain, but the anger made a perfect anesthetic. He continued to carve his own flesh until he pulled the offensive instrument from his chest and felt it throbbing in his hand. He felt oddly distant from it as he examined it, but his rage sustained him, keeping his blood pumping furiously through his veins without it. He could live without his heart. He laughed wildly.

She had cursed him with her betrayal, but that curse was also a blessing. He would live forever now and she had given him power with his job that he would use against her. He would still collect the dead, but not to ferry them to the land where they belonged. Oh no. Now he would amass an army that he would use to make the name of Davy Jones strike fear in the hearts of sailors everywhere. No longer would her precious sea be a romantic setting, but a horrific bed of death. The heart beat on and he felt the pain beginning to return.

He frantically began to dig a hole right where he kneeled. He would bury it here for safe keeping, here at the very shore where she had betrayed him, here to honor the woman who had made him the creature he would become. He would come back later, put it in a better vessel for safe keeping, and make a map so that he could find it again easily if it became necessary. But right now he had better things to do. He had a pirate council to call.

She hadn't just whispered promises in his ears all those years ago. He laughed wildly again as he rowed back out to the ship. She had foolishly told him her secret weakness, and now he would use it against her. He would make her feel all the years of anguish she had meant for him.