Davina Jones woke up from her unconscious state.
Her eyes snapped open not with clarity, not with awareness, but with the sudden, jarring shock of returning consciousness. Her body jerked. Her lungs convulsed. And then she made a huge sneeze.
"AHH CHOO!"
The sound was loud, sudden, completely absurd. It echoed across the wreckage, startling a group of seagulls that had been pecking at a nearby corpse. They squawked and flew away, leaving Davina alone in the silence.
Her head had a pain in it.
It was like the ringing of a bell a high, piercing sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It filled her skull, pulsing with each heartbeat, drowning out everything else. She coughed up blood dark, thick, real spattering against the wood in front of her.
Her mind was still hazy.
She said to herself, her inner voice quiet, fragile, broken.
I'm like a worm that salt was poured upon. She felt her body the weakness, the pain, the certainty of death that pressed against her like a heavy blanket. Near the verge of death.
She raised her head up above some corpses.
Her neck strained with the effort, her muscles screaming in protest, her vision swimming. She saw bodies beasts, navy men, pirates piled around her in a grotesque mountain of flesh and bone. The smell was enough to kill someone: blood, rot, salt, and something else, something sweeter that she did not want to name.
It kept her in a flow state.
She felt confused every second. Her thoughts would not stay still, would not form properly. They scattered like leaves in the wind, drifting away before she could grasp them.
But she could understand something.
Her being here, in this kind of situation, meant one thing.
Everyone is dead.
Tears broke out from her eyes.
They came suddenly hot, uncontrollable, shameful and streamed down her cheeks, mixing with the blood that still dried on her face. She remembered everything that had occurred before she had turned into a monster. The battle. The chaos. The screams.
She held her hands against her face.
Her fingers pressed against her skin, her nails digging into her flesh. She scratched her face deep, raking lines that tore through her skin, created long, ten-like scars across her cheeks, her forehead, her chin.
She did not feel the pain.
She remembered the face of her crew mates. Their laughter. Their courage. Their deaths. And last that came to her mind was the face of her right-hand man. Brody.
She had lost everything.
Once again.
That world that she had built the family she had chosen, the purpose she had found was now ash.
She cried.
She bled from the scars on her face.
To her, everything was over.
At this point, she would accept death.
She curled herself.
Her body folded in on itself her arms wrapping around her knees, her head bowing, her face pressing against her legs. She made herself small. Invisible. Forgotten.
She was born into a world abandoned by her father.
Death had taken her mother.
And now, even in death, her friends the ones she had surrounded herself with as a family had been taken away.
She closed her eyes.
She awaited death.
the family that had been lost and the nothing that remained.
Davina curled among the corpses.
The sea roared.
And she waited.