Chapter 15: Maze fog

The morning sun was a faint glow through the mist, casting an eerie light on the deck. Pirate Blackthorn, a tall and menacing figure, prowled among his crew with a scowl. The tension was thick, and the captured crew of Captain James was on edge.

"Map guy!" Blackthorn bellowed, pointing at Thomas. "Get over here and guide us."

Thomas, still weak and nursing his injury, struggled to his feet. Fredrick quickly intervened. "Are you sick? Thomas is still injured. He needs to rest."

Blackthorn's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he drew a knife, pressing it against Fredrick's throat. "Listen here, pretty boy. Your map guy does his job, or I'll slit all your throats one by one."

Fredrick glared but remained silent, the cold steel a sharp reminder of their precarious situation. Thomas, fear evident in his eyes, limped forward, clutching the map.

"Move it, cripple," Blackthorn sneered, shoving Thomas toward the ship's helm.

Blackthorn's crew swiftly tied up Captain James, Ellie, Dr. Isaac, and Fredrick, securing them to the mast. The pirates laughed, jeered, and shoved them around, enjoying their helplessness.

"Thomas, just do as they say," Captain James urged, trying to keep his voice steady. "We'll figure something out."

Thomas nodded, his hands trembling as he unrolled the map. He started directing the pirates, his voice weak but clear.

As the ship sailed deeper into the fog, the eerie graveyard of shipwrecks began to materialize. The pirates grew uneasy, but Blackthorn's ruthless demeanor kept them in line.

"Steady, you dogs!" Blackthorn shouted. "Follow the map, and we'll be out of here in no time."

Thomas guided them through the narrow passages, but the shifting debris and the creaking of ancient wood made it increasingly difficult. Suddenly, a ghostly figure appeared at the edge of the shipwrecks, sending a shiver down everyone's spine.

"What the hell is that?" one pirate yelled.

"Keep your eyes on your task!" Blackthorn barked, though even he seemed rattled.

The crew's movements became frantic as they tried to steer clear of the spirits. The ghosts seemed drawn to the living, their spectral forms drifting closer.

Thomas's voice shook as he gave directions, trying to keep his focus. "Left! Now right!"

The ship lurched as a sudden gust of wind sent a derelict ship crashing into their side. Water began to flood the deck, and the pirates scrambled to patch the holes.

Amidst the chaos, Blackthorn grabbed Thomas by the collar. "What's happening? Fix this, map boy!"

"I-I'm trying," Thomas stammered, eyes wide with fear.

"Useless!" Blackthorn spat, shoving him aside.

Fredrick, bound but determined, shouted, "Let him work, or we're all dead!"

Blackthorn snarled but released Thomas, who continued to guide them through the maze. The spectral sailors reached out, their touch icy and draining. One pirate fell, his life force sucked away by a ghostly hand.

"Get us out of here!" Blackthorn roared.

Thomas's directions finally led them to a clearing, but the ship was badly damaged. The pirates worked furiously to repair it while Blackthorn kept a watchful eye on Thomas.

"Don't think you're off the hook," he growled. "We've still got a treasure to find."

The crew, exhausted and fearful, huddled together. Fredrick managed to catch Thomas's eye, giving him a reassuring nod despite their dire situation.

"We'll get through this," Fredrick whispered, though the threat of the ghostly graveyard and Blackthorn's ruthless leadership loomed large over them.

The ship sailed on, the echoes of the ghostly wails faiding into distance. They had survived another obstacle, but the journey ahead was fraught with danger, and the specter of Victor Cane still lingered, waiting for the right moment to strike.