A razor pattern of sail-like fins sawed through the surface of the waves, the translucent webbing briefly reflecting the hopeless lights of the Blackjack's lanterns.

The famished monstrosity rose in and out of the water, slowly approaching the Blackjack with each breach of the ocean surface.

The rain drops had swelled to blistering pellets, each one obscuring the crew's vision through forceful protective squinting. A strike of lightning briefly flashed the sheer length of the serpent, as its body appeared to stretch out a few hundred metres. It swam infinitely closer to the ship.

"What's the plan, Mikey?!" Lazarus called out, moving to the railing and watching the serpent's steady approach. "I don't think we can bare knuckle a sea serpent."

He looked away from the sea and towards Mikey, as did Liza and Galliard who'd similarly moved to the railing. Adendé was unbothered and kept watching the sea instead. Gisla, who was sheltering herself from the rain behind the centre mast, looked to Mikey with an obvious amount of fear - a silent cry for help.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Mikey repeated himself, moving to the railing between Adendé and Lazarus. The next breach would be directly below the ship, as the crew could clearly see the lambent scales glittering across its body. "Lady! Are the cannons ready?!"

"Always ready, Captain," she replied as she was summoned forth, though the heavy rain phased right through her.

A sudden rumbling howl, reminiscent of a broken flute, erupted from the waves below the Blackjack. The hideous cry came straight from a snake-like head, though jagged teeth lined the entire length of its lips. They widened for the howl, revealing a leathery tongue that seemed to have barbs of its own.

The creature, though its scales seemed to be metallically plated, bore the scars of stabbings and cannonballs all along its body.

The sail-like fins on its back caught the foiling wind, allowing the serpent to glide above the water and hold a position of height over the ship.

Mikey looked, his vision following the crimson eyes of the toxically green serpent upwards, where he the serpent's share height; it was eye level with the crow's nest.

"Liza! The crow's nest! You've got a bullseye right in your face," Mikey ordered, sending Liza dashing off towards the port side Jacob's ladder up, ascending the ropes to her post.

"Open the book Gisla! I don't care if it gets wet - you'll lose them all soon!" Mikey clamoured at her, as she cradled the book in her hands in an attempt to shield it.

The serpent, ceasing its howl, swept its head forward to bite off a third of the Blackjack's starboard side.

Mikey however, spreading his legs slightly for a more stable position, lifted both his hands up sharply to grab onto something over his head.

In almost perfect sync, as the serpent struck for the ship, two gigantic, black hands, only visible due to the collision of rain, launched out from the shadow of the hull. It's hands wrapped around the serpent's neck, briefly pinning it between its clasped fingers.

However, as it began to struggle, Mikey's summoned grip was not enough. The pulling sail-like fins and the submerged body which writhed desperately to swim free, began to force the ship sideways.

Lazarus and Galliard couldn't do much other than wait, making sure to back up and hold onto something sturdy to avoid falling overboard.

Adendé remained with his arms crossed, watching Mikey with a surveying gaze. He analyzed how he'd compose himself under such pressure.

"Fire!" Mikey shouted out, shaking in his attempt to hold the serpent still.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

The ghost cannons all fired off in quick succession. First it was the six starboard side cannons on their swivel posts, the top deck unleashing a flash of powder, smoke and iron onto the serpent.

With her full and undivided possession of the ship, Lady Blackjack could expertly aim the cannon shots all for a singular spot on the serpent's underbelly.

What followed the initial shots, as if they were shallow marks for a hammer, was a disciplined unleashing of twenty three starboard side cannons from the lower levels. The sound of metallic shattering warned the crew of a sudden flurry of scales that went flying all over the ship.

A sharp pain shot through Mikey's leg.

Throwing the wheezing serpent back into the water, the wind carrying it back below the crashing of the waves, Mikey fell onto his rear. Soaked in sweat, rain, seawater, and now blood, Mikey held onto a plate sized scale that was stuck straight through his left thigh.

Gisla was the first to run down towards him, dropping to her knees to get a closer look at the scale.

"It's fine, just a scratch - I'll walk it off," Mikey said in a weak attempt to wave her off, though his voice trembled. He was on the brink of bawling his eyes out.

"Stop trying to act tough puppy," she said, applying pressure around his upper thigh, gripping tightly, to slow the bleeding. She did her best to avoid making eye contact with Mikey, but he was in too much pain to notice it.

Lazarus and Galliard, still on edge, both patrolled on opposite sides of the ship - watching through the darkness of the rain for any signs of a return.

"The serpent lives," Lady said as she appeared over Mikey and Gisla. Adendé's heavy footsteps creaked the boards below as he approached.

"But it won't return for some time. It'll most likely wait." Adendé warned Lady and the crew as he made his way to the forecastle of the ship despite the pouring of rain amidst the brewing storm. "Don't drop the anchor."

Galliard and Lazarus had dragged Mikey down below deck, lying him out on a table once they were sure the serpent hadn't returned. Ripping open his trousers, the scale seemed to have missed the bone, but would likely immobilise Mikey for some time.

Gisla had fetched a bottle of rum, popping the cork once she arrived at the groaning Mikey.

His drawers were fairly soaked and tattered, forcing Gisla to look away with a repelling blush. She held it out to Lazarus, who was strapping on a second belt around Mikey's thigh to slow the bleeding.

"I'll take that," Galliard took the bottle from Gisla, taking a swig before offering it to Mikey. "Want a taste stick pants?"

"Just get the fucking thing out already! It's not like my leg's falling off," Mikey ordered as he slammed his hand on the table.

"Well it will if we don't take care of it properly. You'll be rotting like the boards beneath us if we don't," Lazarus chuffed, snatching the bottle from Galliard and pouring it over the wound.

"I don't take kindly to those sorts of insults," Lady appeared in her ghostly form as Mikey winced in pain.

"Take it as a compliment, look at you. You're still going!" Lazarus replied to Lady, gripping the shard on Mikey's leg, then looking toward him. "Hey Gisla, distract him or something. Don't know how deep this is stuck in."

Gisla, looking to Lazarus, then the wincing Mikey, then back to Lazarus, pulled her the collar of her dress down. Releasing her breasts with a drop of the silk, Mikey's eyes widened as his drawers shifted like the serpent they'd battled.

"Sheesh! You sure you're not a princess?" Lazarus raised his brows, as Galliard pointed at Mikey's little incident.

"Laz mate, he's doing your job for you. All the blood's headed there," Galliard chuckled, though Lazarus' sudden pulling of the scale brought Mikey back to the realisation of his pain.

"Ow- FUUUUUCK!"

Later that night, with Mikey resting in his bed, Lazarus, Galliard and Gisla found themselves sitting around one of the dining tables. They were all eating dried meat for dinner, with Lumpy passed out nearby on the kitchen floor.

Lumpy was too intoxicated to even realise they were being raided by ghosts, let alone a giant sea serpent. The stench of his breath, stained with vomit and rum, dissuaded the other three from drinking.

"Hey Lady, so what were those Lost Spirits anyway?" Lazarus asked, chewing into a strip of unknown animal jerky - at the very least it was still red.

"They were like me, stuck in the ships which they sank with. They were responding to the mark on Mikey's hand, the 'X', but I do not know why specifically - for me or for them. Adendé believes the serpent which brought them down is still chasing after us." Lady began to explain as her glowing, upside down head slipped through the ceiling of the room.

As Lady disappeared, the three of them took a few quiet bites of their meals. Gisla soon broke the silence with a question.

"So, why did you three end up joining the crew anyway? Surely you knew there was nothing in it for you?" Gisla asked, genuine confusion emerging in her expression.

"We have our own reasons, but at the core they're the same. Our fathers work together; they have done for many years. But they've awfully high expectations of us. There's a long list of things we're supposed to do before we can take their place," Lazarus began to explain in a tired and bored tone.

"Most of it is fucking stupid. Like, why in the hell do I want to do that fancy, noble step dance shit? I want to sail a ship, not attend masquerades," Galliard shook his head, biting angrily into his dried meal.

"So we decided not to wait to take their place, we're just going to find our own. What a perfect place to start, right?" Lazarus chuckled, smirking at Gisla as he prompted a light blush in her cheeks. However, he furrowed his brows for a second. "Hold on, where's Liza?"

A thunderous boom from the stairs leading down to the hold began, almost on cue. Splashes from sodden fabric and the squeaking of wet leather accompanied the drumming of armageddon. By now, Gisla, Lazarus and Galliard had completely dried up, warm and cozy chewing on their dinner.

"You stupid fuckers. Why didn't you tell me it was gone?! I stood there waiting for my fucking cue! Then I thought! No! This is an awfully long battle, surely they'd tell me when it was gone - not just FUCKING HIDING OR SOMETHING!! UGH!" Liza shot radioactively violent words, threatening the three of them. Her eyes darted between them all, though she then calmed herself. "WHER- Where's Mikey?"

"Captain Mikhail's resting in bed. I know it was a big wound, but it was only his leg," Galliard chuckled amusedly. "Now that you mentioned it, he did actually mumble your name. But I thought he was just looking for widdle cuddle fwom Miss Liza."

Liza stormed over to Galliard, snatched the meat from his hands, and threw it across the room.

Slap!

Liza's hand smacked the back of Galliard's head.

"Ah! You fucking bi-" Galliard went to instinctively reply, though held it once Liza let out a cautionary glare to him; she was almost daring him to finish the sentence.

"Well I'll be sitting with the Captain, not you bumbling idiots," Liza scoffed, turning away and marching back out into the rain.

"Bitch," Galliard whispered under his breath once Liza had taken her leave from the hold.

Gisla watched Liza storm off. Like a light strum of the finest string, a tingle vibrated through her heart at Liza's idea.

'Since when were they so close?' Gisla thought to herself.