#wrongfully cursed

Alec slumps to the deck of his captors' massive ship. Its red sails blaze in the sun, tinting everything underneath in a pink hue. He's heard of flying a red flag, but this ship is serious. He ordered his men to push his clipper to its limits, but this monster effortlessly ran them down like a hungry cat, defying everything he knew as a seasoned mariner.

He disdainfully surveys the filthy women around him, their dreadlocks dripping with the blood of his crew, further staining their already once-white shirts. It wasn't a particularly bloody battle, it was quick, but they just decided to soak their hair in blood anyway. Off to his right a young, loinclothed man slowly scrubs the wooden floor planks; his eyes are just crusty sockets.

"Get up, worm," grunts the woman gripping his hair around her hand. She tugs him to his feet with surprising force, and the sharp point in his spine convinces him to help her out. She marches him to a wooden door, gently reminding him of the point slowly pushing into his skin, getting closer to the bone with every hitch he has in his gait.

He is led into a dark room. There are windows but they're obscured with lush fabrics that don't allow light to pass through. Thin bands of light play across the walls and floor as the ship rocks with the motion of the seas.

He feels a warm flow from the hole in his back as she pulls the sharp point from him and hurls a golden trident in front of him onto the floor. It thumps to the ground with the weight of the metal. She boots him forward and he falls to his knees above the weapon. He hears the door slam shut and the light from behind him disappears.

A triple knock on wood issues forth, and he then hears a wet, sucking, squirming sound. From the deeper shadows his slowly adjusting eyes can see some light glint off of a black mass oozing into this chamber from the floor. It swarms a lightly colored couch on the wall and seems to lounge there. The trident is plucked from off the floor in front of him by a black tentacle and hovers in front of the unintelligible mass.

From another corner he now notices two glowing coals spaced like eyes. They turn to look at the trident.

"What do you think, sister?" The coals emphasize its s's.

The golden trident turns back and forth, "Yes. It's definitely my father's." The trident turns on its x axis and plunges into the wooden floor.

The coals round on Alec, "What business do you have with a relic of Poseidon?" He feels a warmth wash over him and a creaking/shuffling sound as the coals rise from their resting place.

He defiantly juts his chin out with no answer.

The coals burn slightly brighter and his skin starts to sting. A weight smashes into his ribs and he is flung into the wall by the door.

The coals speak again, "Where is the temple you're headed to?"

He coughs and manages to breathe through the pain of his broken ribs, "North. Just go north."

The coals let out a satisfied sigh, "Charybdis, darling, we'll be headed north, full speed."

"Aye aye captain," the tentacled mass croons, and slips its way below deck.

Alec tries to stand and protest, the coals offer a hissing shushing sound.

The door opens from the inside. From the corner of his eye he sees the tip of what looks like the tail of a snake slip off the handle.

What he sees makes him loose any urine that may be present in him, because he knows he will receive no mercy. The coals burn bright and a dozen or so smaller sets of coals ignite around them. The eyes of Medusa pierce his soul and the tingling in his skin escalates to boiling and every ounce of flesh converts to stone. The pain is unfathomable, and lasts much longer than one would think.

She usually disposes of these statues, but her scales feel itchy and she might need to molt soon, so she decides to keep it to rub against.

The pirate queen slithers from her chambers. She raises her voice so all her crew can hear, "I've discovered another temple of the Defiler. We sail north."

The women on deck cheer and begin working the sails and various ropes.