#alxtiny

He tapped the map with his finger. “This,” he began, his voice drawing attention, “is the piece of our journey that changes everything. Our next step depends on what’s written here.”

Everyone leaned closer. The map itself was vague, no one able to make out what landform it represented, but the inscription was where all eyes fell.

You cleared your throat softly, taking over the job to explain. “It says… to find a siren who’s lost its song. That same siren will help us through a ‘passage.’” You traced the faint words on the parchment with your finger. “It’s not clear what this ‘passage’ means… or how a siren without a voice could guide us. But… that’s what it says.”

A murmur rippled through the room.

Seonghwa was the one to break it. “The last of the siren tribes were seen around Hell Volhard,” he said plainly, hands clasped behind his back. “Reaching them won’t be easy. Those waters are treacherous, and it will take weeks of travel. That means stopping at Aldol to restock supplies. And…” he paused, flicking a glance at Yunho, “…making repairs. The ship didn’t come out of the storm flashes unscathed.”

At that, Yunho practically whined in distress. “My poor baby she really went through it during the storm.”

Mingi clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder before Yunho could work himself into a frenzy. “Calm down. We can fix her up. The coast town on the Swartz Peninsula will have everything we need.”

Your heart lurched at the name. Swartz Peninsula. That was where they had taken you from the slave trader’s ship. Your hands felt clammy against the edge of the table, the air that went through your nose didn’t seem to reach your lungs. What if that vile man had survived? You never saw his body—what if he was waiting? To hunt you down?

You tried to steady yourself, but dizzying panic ignited like fire under your skin. Your eyes flicked up, just once, to Hongjoong. He was already watching you. He saw it—the shake of your pupils, the way your chest rose too quickly, almost hyperventilating.

“No,” Hongjoong said suddenly, his tone inviting no further argument.

Everyone looked at him.

He pointed to the map, though his eyes never left yours. “That area is no longer safe. We raided the trader there, and word will have spread. We won’t take that risk.”

Your head snapped up fully, wide eyes meeting his gaze. He didn’t look away. There was something softer in his expression, beneath the layers upon layers of iron. Something that almost felt like reassurance.

“Then where?” San asked, leaning forward, brow raised.

Hongjoong finally looked away from you to address the group. “We stop after the Dark Marshes. We’ll restock with the help of your sisters.” His sharp gaze moved between San and Yeosang. His words more of an instruction than a suggestion.

Yeosang gave a small nod. “They’ll help. They always do.”

San grinned faintly, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Last time we interrupted their date, wonder what we’ll be crashing this time.”

You blinked. Sisters? Your web of unanswered questions weaved itself further yet again. How little you truly knew about any of them hit you harder in that moment.

“Then it’s settled,” Hongjoong declared, pushing the rolled up map in a leather cover. “We follow through the Dark Marshes, into the waters of the Pthylinn, and onward to Sttive Lagoon. That’s where we begin the search for the sirens. Jongho stay back, we have something to discuss.”

You wondered what that was about.

“Meeting adjourned,” he said firmly. “Get some rest. Tomorrow will not be any easier than today.”

One by one they dispersed, quiet steps fading down the hallway. You followed, though slower than the others, hoping to catch wind of Hongjoong and Jongho’s conversation, but apparently the room was sound proof.

Back in your cabin, you set yourself down on the edge of the bed, staring at the cold wood planks beneath your feet. Sleep didn’t come easily. Your body ached with fatigue, but your overthinking brain refused to let you relax.

It was much later, after the lanterns had gone out one by one across the ship, that you finally drifted into restless slumber.

…

You woke up to a familiar furry weight draped across your neck. Even before opening your eyes, you knew exactly what it was. A smile tugged at your lips as you shifted, pulling Byeol closer and burying your face in her warm, soft fur. She let out a pleased mewl, tiny paws kneading against your collarbone before her rough tongue rasped gently against your forehead.

For a brief moment, everything felt simple—just you and the cat, safe and content.

But where there was Byeol, there was always her owner.

You didn’t notice San leaning in the doorway until he let out a sudden, loud sneeze. You startled, lifting your head off the pillow with a groggy squint.

“Is it time to train again?” you asked, voice still thick with sleep.

San shook his head. “No. Captain wants everyone on the main deck. Thinks there might be a rat among us.”

You stiffened at that, the words snapping against your heart like a rubber band. Your mind flicked back to the incident days ago, when your presence on the ship had been served to the Guardians on a silver platter.

“I’ll be right out,” you said quietly.

San gave you a nod, turning on his heel. Byeol trotted faithfully after him, tail flicking, leaving you wishing she’d lingered with you just a little longer.

You dragged yourself from bed, washing and dressing quickly in the small private bathroom you’d been given, and then stepped out into the morning light.

The deck was already crowded. Every crew member had been herded into unnaturally straight lines, standing stiff and alert. Clearly their Captain ran the pirate ship like the navy. Hongjoong stood facing them, eyeing each and every man with a gaze that could make even the most nefarious feel nervous.

You slipped quietly toward the far end of the gathering, finding Mingi leaning against the railing. He was idly flipping his switchblade open and shut, the gleam of the steel catching in the sunlight. His gaze flicked to you, boredom evident in his sleepy eyes, before he tipped his chin in a small nod.

“What’s going on?” you asked under your breath.

Mingi twirled the blade once before catching it neatly. “Captain wants to remind everyone what happens to traitors,” he said offhandedly, like he was commenting on the weather.

You found his words a tad bit overkill, as if this was gonna be a mass execution. Right? “Okaayy…” you muttered, eyes sliding toward Hongjoong. When he spoke, his voice carried easily over the deck.

“Has anyone seen someone leave the ship when we docked?” His eyes swept fluidly from face to face. “Or noticed someone unfamiliar aboard?”

A murmur passed through the lines, men shifting uneasily, whispering among themselves. But no clear answer rose above the noise.

Hongjoong’s mouth pressed into a thin line. He exhaled slowly, almost disappointed. “Alright,” he said at last, his tone laced with annoyance. “Since no one wants to make things easier for me.”

Hongjoong gave the smallest nod to Seonghwa at his side. Seonghwa raised one elegant hand, snapped his fingers once—and reality seemed to tear.

About two-thirds of the pirate crew began to lose definition, their skin and clothes draining of color, then of shape, until they were nothing but silhouettes of black smoke. Gasps and shouts broke from the remaining men as the lines crumbled. The smoky forms hissed like dying embers, twisting and curling before sinking into long pools of shadow that slid across the deck and gathered at Seonghwa’s boots. He stood utterly still as the darkness bled upward into him, vanishing into his frame like a living tide.

You stared, heart hammering, the hairs on your arms rising. You had known something was up with the crew, but this wasn’t that “something” you had expected.

“In your places,” Hongjoong said. His tone was almost casual, but it cracked like a whip.

His storm-grey eyes glinted, sharper than any blade. The disarray melted away; men scrambled back into neat ranks as if yanked by invisible strings. Where moments ago there had been a crowd, only a dozen solid crew remained. Some trembled visibly, knuckles white, while others stared straight ahead, their faces waxy with terror, eyes glazed over.

Hongjoong’s mouth curled in a humorless smile. “Much better,” he murmured, voice carrying easily over the deck. “Don’t you think?”

He stepped forward once. “Kneel.”

The single word boomed like a cannon shot. The men dropped to their knees as one, marionettes with cut strings.

“Now,” Hongjoong said, “which one of you informed the Guardians of Aurora’s presence on my ship?” His words rippled across the men.

For a heartbeat no one breathed. Then a man jerked upright like a puppet on a wrong string. “M–me,” he squeaked.

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. The man was short, with spindly limbs, a sagging belly and a hand missing two fingers—hardly imposing, hardly memorable.

Silence stretched. Then the man twitched, glancing at the open deck, and tried to bolt.

Beside you, Mingi moved in a blur. His switchblade left his hand like a flash of silver lightning, burying itself through the man’s shirt and deep into the mast behind him, pinning him by the shoulder. The traitor let out a strangled cry, body shaking violently. You caught the acrid stench a moment later—the dark patch spreading across his trousers as he lost control.

Hongjoong laughed manically. “You’re on a ship in the middle of the sea,” he said through his laughter. “What makes you think you could escape?”

His storm-grey eyes flicked to you for a split second, head tilted back, and you saw how dark they’d gone—pupils blown wide, almost black, as if toying with living men gave him satisfaction.

“Did you truly think,” he said, turning back to the pinned man, “or that you could jump into the sea and die on your own terms?” The smile stretching his face was a predator’s. “Don’t worry,” he added softly, without waiting for an answer. “You’ll get to die… but on mine.”

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

Comment under masterlist to be added to taglist

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

His gaze raked up and down the traitor, in disappointment and disgust. You could almost see him considering which end would suit him the best. “Tell me now,” he murmured, “what exactly did you tell your master?”

No one breathed. You glanced about and realised that the others had slipped away—likely used to this routine, returned below deck in boredom. Only Seonghwa and Mingi remained, one of Seonghwa’s flickering shadows stationed silently at the helm.

The man’s words spilled out in a rush, his tongue loosening like an unfastened sail. “I—I didn’t know much. Just that a new girl was brought aboard, that she must be important. The ship’s ne’er carried a woman before—Ateez don’t deal in all ‘at business.” He licked his lips, voice cracking. “That be all I told Myung. And that we’d dock near his area soon, sent the letter out when we docked just after raidin’ the slaver. Please—please let me live.”

Hongjoong raised his hand, the man’s rambling cut off with a small flinch, eyes squeezed shut.

He tilted the blade Mingi had thrown, plucking it free from the mast with an unhurried motion and resting its tip against the man’s jugular. “Hmm…” he mused. “Do you even know why we docked?”

“You’re… you’re after the map,” the man almost sobbed. “You want more power. To defeat those who crave greater good.”

Hongjoong’s face twitched—something between contempt and fury. He despised thos who blindly followed the misguided and consumed every blatant lie they uttered as virtue. Without a word he turned away, stalking back toward where you and the others stood.

You caught the man’s shoulders sagging in relief behind him, mistaking the captain’s retreat for mercy. But the smile curling Hongjoong’s mouth was manic again, teeth flashing white in the sunlight.

“You’ve done enough,” he said, voice syrupy and sweet, “now you will climb the rail and jump.”

“What?!” the man screeched, but his own legs betrayed him. They lurched forward in jerky steps. He fought it, clawing at the wooden rail, but still stumbled to the edge, one foot swinging over to the deep end.

Then something huge and slick surged up from the black water. A massive purple tentacle snapped around his torso, hoisting him up like a rag doll. His scream rose to a pitch of pure terror as the coil tightened.

Your head whipped to the side, “where the fuck did that come from?!” you stared questioningly at Mingi, who just responded with an infuriating lazy smile.

You heard the crack of bones; the man’s face turned a mottled blue as breath fled his lungs, and the oxygen couldn’t reach what little brain he had. And then, with a final wrench, the tentacle yanked him over the side. He vanished with a splash and a strangled cry, dragged into the sea.

You had already backed away from the rail, heart hammering, but some awful curiosity drew you forward again. Peering over, you saw only a spreading bloom of dark red unfurling beneath the ship like ink in water.

You swallowed hard and turned away before your stomach could revolt.

“Now, for the rest of you.” Hongjoong clapped his hands once, the sound sharp as a pistol shot. Every head jerked toward him. “Please move to the brig in a single file. There’s no use throwing yourselves overboard or plotting some heroic escape—your fates are already sealed. Mingi, lock them up. We’ll need a little…negotiation material for the sirens later.”

He chuckled, low and amused, as if the idea itself tickled him. Then he sauntered over to Seonghwa, tossing Mingi’s blade back to him without even looking.

The remaining dozen men shuffled toward the lower decks like schoolchildren fearing a reprimand from their teacher, their eyes glazed over with terror. Mingi followed them at an easy pace, fidgeting with his blade as usual. The whole scene would’ve been comical if you weren’t acutely aware of their eventual fate.

You decided to follow him, since you had nothing better to do. Sensing your presence, Mingi slowed his steps until you fell into step with him, the thud of boots and distant creak of timbers filling the silence.

“I know you’re confused,” he said suddenly.

Your eyes widened. You looked up at him and gave a small nod.

“First off, no,” he continued, “we’re not condemning innocent lives. The crew on this ship, the living ones, that is, are all freed criminals accused of heinous crimes. We take ‘em out of military prisons, put ‘em to work, and dispose of ‘em when the job’s done. Can’t risk them blabbing our business to whoever’s payin’.”

“Oh…” Your voice came out small. “That’s uhh…wise?”

Mingi barked a laugh. “Hah, yeah. You could say that. Besides, we’re ridding the world of people who don’t deserve to breathe in it. And don’t worry—Captain always has a plan. He doesn’t act on the spontaneous.” His eyes flicked sideways at you, one brow arched. “Which reminds me, shouldn’t you be with Jongho, working out a strategy for the Land of the Dead?”

“Right. Of course.” You chuckled nervously, peeling away from him at the next stairwell.

You searched the usual places—the main study, Jongho’s cabin, even the kitchen—but no sign of him. Finally, on your way back toward the bow, you caught sight of San. He was leaning against a bulkhead, wiping his palms on a red stained rag. You noticed the same red speckles on his hands and flecks across his shirt. Blood? you wondered.

He glanced up at you as if nothing were unusual. “Looking for Jongho?”

You nodded.

“He likes to sit in the little room at the bow,” San said, jerking his chin toward the narrow passage.

You picked your way toward the bow, boots soft on the planks as the wind funnelled colder around you. A narrow door you’d never noticed before waited at the very front of the ship, half-hidden behind coils of rope and a lantern.

You paused with your hand on the latch. From within drifted music—no, not just music but a voice, sounding not quite human, a melody in an unfamiliar language. It was beautiful but aching with loss.

Something in it clawed at you. It stirred memories you usually kept buried: your grandmother’s death, the day you left your family to pursue navigation as a profession, the smell of fish and salt from your little port village, and the terrors you had faced not long ago. Each image flashed more vividly than it had any right to be, some parts more grotesque than you remembered. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to squeeze out the sudden chill, but the sensations only grew stranger. Shadows of things you hadn’t lived—death, despair, faces you didn’t know—flickered behind your eyelids. It made you want to scream.

Then, abruptly, the singing stopped. A whisper, close as breath, slid through the wood: Someone is here.

Your eyes flew open just as the door swung outward. Jongho stood framed in the dim light of the barren windowless room.

Had that been him singing?

“Why are you crying?” he asked softly. His voice—smooth, low, almost buttery—startled you; you realised you’d never actually heard him speak before.

Your hands rose to your cheeks, meeting the dampness there. “Oh. I hadn’t realised…” you murmured.

“Did you perhaps listen to my singing?” he asked, wide-eyed, his expression almost doe-like. In that moment he looked strangely enchanting, and you found yourself caught by it.

“Come inside,” he whispered, opening the door wider. “Let me explain.”

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

Comment under masterlist to be added to taglist

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY