THE ship rocked dangerously as the waves crashed into its sides, the hull of the ship just barely scraping the jagged rocks that kept the Walpurgis hidden from sight. Not to mention the cover of fog kept a heavy veil of smog over the ship, shrouding its sails and crew members in a ghostly shadow.

Energy was tense but all was quiet except for the dull thump of boots against the wooden deck, the crew members all scurrying to ready for attack. Though if all went according to plan, they would be leaving without a scratch and unnoticed. Most pirates led a loud life, their pride not allowing for smart tactics. They liked the blood shed and the bombs, the splintering wood and the cries of the wounded. However, this crew went about their job a bit differently thanks to their Captain's teachings and it made them all the richer for it. Not to mention they were all in one piece.

Of course the crew of Walpurgis had their fair share in battle. No matter how meticulous a plan might be, there is always the fault of human error. Never on their Captain's part, but one could never correctly predict the actions of the opponent. He always had a back up plan though, and most of his men weren't sure if he had planned it or if he was winging it. It didn't matter, he always got the job done and they left with riches that could sink the ship if they weren't too careful.

All these side jobs couldn't compare to what they were about to do. This was the job, or at least the first stepping stone towards greatness. It was what they were recruited for and after years at sea they were finally on a hot trail that could lead to success. Their Captain wasn't about to squander it and he made it very clear that if anyone were to mess up they'd wish they were dead.

The crew had witnessed their Captain's cruelty, always thankful to the Gods that they weren't on the receiving end of it. His torture plagued their nightmares and his voice caused nauseating fear to rip into their stomachs. They never saw him smile and it was rumored that he had the fangs of a snake, his venom leaking poison and the moment you touched it you were done for.

He had no mercy. No remorse. No guilt. No fear; this was Thomas Riddle. The Captain of the Walpurgis, known by the world and his crew as Captain Marvolo, the bringer of death to your door.

The ship rocked again but his stride remained steady as he walked across the ship. Tom had been at sea since he was a boy, a mere stowaway looking for a better life than what the orphanage could offer him. Over that time he had learned how the world worked, the cruelty of it. You would get nowhere being kind, if you wanted something you took it. He had built a life for himself where he was respected and he would never let that be taken away from him. He'd never let his life be taken from him. A driving motivational factor that had controlled his life and led him to this very moment.

In the pirate world as well as common myth, there are always stories of treasure maps that lead to otherworldly gifts. Gold that would drive men mad and lead them to the bottom of the seas. Yet there was one story in particular that had garnered Tom's obsession since he was nine years old.

He had been surrounded by death ever since he could remember. The stench of it clung to him no matter what he did. When he'd stare at the corpses that would lay idly beside him, he had nightmares at the fact that that could be him one day. A stiff and cold thing to be discarded by others. He'd be nothing and no one and the world would forget about him.

Thomas Riddle was terrified of this fate and he swore then and there he would do something about it. Then one night, one of the women working the orphanage was telling the children a bedtime story of a pirate treasure that gave the gift of life. He had latched onto it as if he were a beast and starving, the story being all he could eat and everything else was toxic.

The map to the Resurrection Stone.

The ship rocked again but he barely moved, staying steady with the tilt of the waves. There was a flick of white in the corner of his eyes and Tom spared a glance to his side as he watched his First Mate approach. He'd known Abraxas for quite a few years now, he wasn't sure trust was the right word to use but he knew he could rely on him to get the job done.

"Everything is ready, sir." Abraxas spoke quietly, though there was a gruff understone to his words. He seemed uneasy, which was odd. Malfoy wasn't one to be nervous.

"Having second thoughts?" His voice carried across the quiet air, the salt tasting warm on his tongue and his voice carrying a rasp caused by a day of yelling orders.

The blond shook his head and crossed his arms, his jaw taut. Abraxas was a horrible liar. "It's not everyday you steal from Grindelwald and live to tell the tale. You know what they say about him."

Tom raised a brow. "Superstitious?"

Abraxas narrowed his eyes. "Cautious. Which you don't seem to be."

The Captain shrugged a shoulder. His plan was flawless. Grindelwald's ship was currently docked at the port on the isle they were near. There on a diplomatic mission apparently, doing dirty work for the King. He'd be off with most of his men, at least all the important ones. Him and Abraxas would take a small ship, climb aboard unnoticed using the rocky waters to their advantage and get in and out of the Captain's quarters. Then they would leave. If trouble got in the way, he had no qualms with killing witnesses.

"What if we get caught?"

Tom turned to him and crossed his arms, looking at him intently. Abraxas had never seemed worried about a job before, and in his opinion they had taken much riskier missions. "If you want to sit here and whine then by all means. I don't need your fear getting in the way of getting the job done. I can take Victor with me."

Abraxas screwed his face up in disapproval. "Victor? Don't be ridiculous."

"Then shut the fuck up and let's go." Tom didn't take kindly to being questioned. He would've done more about it had they not been crunched for time at the moment. Walking over to the side of the ship, Tom threw his legs over the railing and began to climb down the ladder fashioned out of thick rope. His feet landed heavily but even on the small and narrow boat. It could barely hold the two men and it teetered dangerously against the waves but if they got any larger of a boat they would be spotted easily.

Settling onto their respective benches the men began to row, their oars slicing into the water with strong push and pulls of their arms. Their muscles well toned to the task due to endless days at sea and maintaining the ship Walpurgis. Tom had started out as a boatswain before working up the ranks and starting his own crew, maintaining the sails and keeping knots tight and sturdy. His hands had bled for months before his skin grew thick enough and his arms became well toned to keep up with the task.

Once they cleared themselves of the rocks the trip was easier, though they had lost their cover. The two sat low and continued to row as they neared the large ship rocking gently in the sea port of St. Mary's Island, the vessel was impressive both in looks and size and the black sails flickered in the moonlight. Tom's eyes flicked between the ship and Abraxas, who still looked tense and he couldn't shake off the nagging feeling in his gut. Something felt wrong, and his gut had never been wrong before.

They slowed to a stop near the ship and let the current gently pull them along to its side, just below the windows of the Captain's quarters. There was no candle light flickering in the stained glass but Tom wasn't going to take any chances and just swing in. He set his oars down and stood carefully, evening out his balance to match the rock of the boat as he found grooves in the ship's wood that would allow him to climb.

Abraxas watched him warily. "Are we really sure this is a good idea? Stealing from Grindelwald will put a target on our backs."

Tom merely clenched his jaw as he began to climb, his muscles straining beneath his shirt and the wood burned against his calloused hands. "What's one more?"

"You're being reckless. This obsession of yours is going to get the entire crew killed."

Tom paused and looked down at him, hell in his eyes and the blond shrunk back. "If you don't shut up and start climbing, I'm going to kill you. Now hurry up."

Once they made it to the windows, Tom pressed against each one gently till one gave. Once a ship was at sea long enough, many things began to weather away its resolve. Luckily for him, Grindelwald hadn't thought of repairing and reinforcing the windows to his quarters. He peeked his head inside and had to blow his hair out of his eyes. He was in desperate need of a haircut but lately he just couldn't find the time. His eyes skimmed over the large room which was empty of another soul.

Carefully, Tom hauled himself up and into the room, his boots landing soundlessly against the rug that was under the desk in front of him. Abraxas followed shortly after, just as quiet and his silver eyes flickered in the dark. Tom began to move around the room, his steps easily avoiding any loose planks. It didn't matter if he had never been on the vessel before, they were all the same if one knew how to read it correctly. It sounded pathetic but Tom had never been good at connecting with people, but he was always able to fall into the mechanics of a ship. He'd let it breathe him in and guide him, carrying him in expertise one only got with years of experience.

His mind raced with where the map could be and the large wall on the left filled with scrolls seemed too obvious to waste time on but he didn't want to risk it, so with the tilt of his chin he bade Abraxas to go check. He continued his hunt, searching drawers and cabinets with precision so they didn't squeal on their hinges. When he came up short he let out a slight huff and laced his hands on his hips as he looked around, Abraxas was still digging through scrolls and there was a crease between his brow as he focused.

Tom's eyes danced around the room but his gaze tracked back when something caught his eye along the edge of the wall near the floor of the bed. All of the wood that lined the floor was the same hue of worn and aged wood, but one plank in particular looked more dull than rest. Just slightly, one probably wouldn't pay any mind to it but the fact it was a singular plank made the base of his skull itch in anticipation as he walked over. His boot gently pressed on the wood, it didn't squeal but it did shift. It wasn't nailed down.

He smiled wickedly.

Kneeling down, he pulled out a dagger and wedged it in the crease between the other planks and carefully lifted the wood. When he moved it to the side, moonlight caught and he saw a singular wooden box that looked just the right size to hold a map. Reaching into it, he nearly laughed in exasperation when he saw there was no lock on it. Perhaps Grindelwald really had an ego so big he truly thought no one would dare steal from him.

Tom sucked in a breath and held it there when he flipped the lid open, and in it sat a rolled and aged piece of parchment. He froze for a moment, mostly in disbelief that he might actually be holding the map that would lead him to his wildest dreams. His hands shook slightly as he brought it out of the box and his fingers carefully unrolled it. It was a language he didn't understand but the purpose was clear. This was it. He didn't let panic take root that he wasn't able to read it. he'd find a way somehow. He always did.

"Is that really it?" Abraxas asked behind him, sounding breathless.

Tom rolled the map back up and nodded. He placed the box back into its grave and put the plank of wood back into place. He stood and turned, "Let's get out of–"

He was staring into the barrel of a gun. It wasn't the first time nor would it be the last but Abraxas being the one behind it was an unwelcome surprise. Tom's eyes flicked from the barrel to the blond, his expression that of indifference. The sound of footsteps above them had been steady, no one knew they were there and he hoped he'd get the situation under control and keep it that way.

"Mutiny, really Abraxas?" His voice came out low and he watched as the man trembled.

"That treasure will make us richer than the King yet you want to keep it locked away and to yourself."

"I want to use it. There's a difference."

"Using it doesn't bring in the gold."

Tom clenched his jaw, he was not in the mood for this. "You know you can't take me on your own. Was waiting till we were secluded your brightest idea?"

Abraxas was shaking and he looked nothing more than a frightened child. "Give me the map."

Tom's laugh was mirthful but no smile was to be shown. "No, I don't think so. Give me that gun before you end up with your own bullet in your brain."

His First Mate trembled but he tightened the hold on the gun. "Maybe I can't kill you, but they can." Before Tom could blink, Abraxas raised his arm in the air and pulled the trigger. The bullet shot through the roof and the echo rang loudly in his ears. The footsteps above halted for only a moment before there was a rush of thumps headed straight for the Captain's quarters.

In his moment of shock, Abraxas took the map and bolted for the window and was halfway out of it and the steps of Grindelwald's crew were nearly at the door.

"Malfoy." Tom's voice cut like a dagger through the air and the man froze for a moment.

Abraxas swallowed thickly and he raised his chin. "Good luck finding me."

Tom's expression was blank and his eyes soulless. "You'll find the oceans a very small place when I'm angry with you."

The door to the room burst open and Abraxas disappeared out the window. Tom merely took a breath before he turned and the blade of a sword was already swinging towards him. He side stepped easily and twisted the man's arm, making him drop his sword and before it clattered to the ground Tom caught it and swung. The metal tore across the man's throat and he fell to the floor coughing up blood and clawing at his throat before he fell still.

More men flooded into the room, about four and he supposed the rest were off with their Captain.

A bullet tore through the air and he dodged, twisting the sword behind his back to gain momentum before he swung it down in an arc and it dug into the man's shoulder. He screamed and yanked himself free, blood gushing out and the limb now limp but he kept trying to fire his gun. Tom moved swiftly, trying to get him to run out of ammo and when he did he cut at the man's legs. He dodged a strike from one of the other crew members and turned quickly, driving the sword up and through the man's jaw who was knelt at his feet.

He didn't have time to dislodge the weapon from the skull, so he dove over the corpse instead and picked up a dropped gun and shot at the man running at him. The bullet landed right between his eyes and he fell with a heavy thumb. Something felt warm on his face and he realized he was coated in blood and he could taste metal on his tongue.

A shot rang out and a hiss left him as a bullet grazed his bicep, it wasn't too deep but he could already tell he'd need stitches as more blood began to leak through his shirt in a crimson stain. He spun to meet the assailant and knocked the gun out of his hand before yanking his arm back and landing a punch against the man's nose with a loud crack and he could feel the bones shatter beneath his knuckles. The man cried out and tried to swing back at him, but was too blinded by pain and his own gushing blood that he missed and Tom dealt a brutal hit to his ribs and caused him to fall forward, gasping for breath.

Tom was panting as he watched the man cough violently and he wiped away blood and sweat from his eyes with his arm and it came away bloody. His eyes caught the gleam of the gun he had knocked out of the man's hand and he picked it up off the floor.

The man froze when he felt the metal of it dig into the side of his head. "You– you won't get away with this." He spluttered and blood spattered against Tom's boots.

He didn't say anything as his finger squeezed the trigger, nor did he blink when the man fell lifelessly to the floor and his eyes stared up at Tom blankly. None of it mattered.

He lost the map. Abraxas took it in a moment of weakness and now he had a mess on his hands. Tom didn't care about Grindelwald, call it his pride but he was sure he could knock the old man on his arse if he wished it so. The pirate's time had passed, his reign over the oceans long past its due and the new fear that rolled over the waves was at the mere whisper of Captain Marvolo and the ship of Walpurgis.

Tom clenched his jaw and as he swam back to his ship, imagined every single way possible he was going to torture Abraxas once he found him. The waves and current pushing him back and trying to drag him under were no match for the sheer weight of his fury.

Once he hauled himself on, his crew looked nearly as bloody as he had and he noticed there were a handful missing.

"Sir, Malfoy–"

He held up his hand, his heartbeat raging in his ears and he could barely see the world around him. Everything looked white and his ears began to ring. If he didn't calm down he might kill someone.

Tom walked silently to his quarters, and as he walked through the ship he noticed a decent chunk of their food and weaponry was missing. Surely most of that wouldn't fit on a small boat and he came to the realisation that Abraxas might've already had his own ship, which meant this hadn't been a spur of the moment betrayal. He had been planning this for who knew how long and Tom hadn't seen it.

He sank into his desk chair and stared at the wood in front of him blankly before slamming his fist down and the whole thing shook.

"Fuck!"

His voice was hoarse and sounded inhuman and he tugged at his hair as he leaned back against his chair. Not caring that he was soaked through with salt water and blood. He didn't care that he was still bleeding out from the bullet wound in his bicep. Tom would track down every single one of those traitors and gut them. He'd tie them to the masts of the ship and have them die out and dry in the sun.

He'd kill all of them and anyone who stood in the way if it meant getting the map back.

There was a knock on the door and he was half tempted to grab the gun on his desk and shoot them for daring to bother him but he thought better of it. His voice came out in a rasp. "What?"

The door creaked open and Victor peeked his head in, looking bruised and bleeding but otherwise in one piece. After taking note that nothing was thrown at his head, the man walked into the room and came to a stop before the desk. His eyes went to Tom's arm and his brows rose. "You should get that stitched up, sir."

Tom looked at the wound. Perhaps it was worse than he thought and the pain was starting to creep up on him as his adrenaline wore off. "What do you want?"

Victor swallowed thickly and averted his gaze for a moment before finding the courage to look at his Captain. "We're wondering what's next."

"What's next?"

He nodded.

Tom clenched his jaw. "Any qualms about killing old friends?"

"Not at all."

Tom stood then and lit a match as he grabbed his pipe and lit it. The tobacco filled him and quieted the rage in his head for a moment. Making it sound muffled. "Congratulations Lestrange, you've been promoted to First Mate. If I get one whiff of treachery your head will be a new decoration on my desk."

Victor didn't look phased as he smiled and stood up straight. "Aye, sir."

"Gather the crew, I'll be out there in a moment." With a nod, Victor left and Tom turned his eyes to the window behind him and watched how the moonlight danced along the ripples in the water.

Tom would hunt down not only Abraxas, but everything else he held dear and he would make the man watch as he burned it all. There was no room for mercy in his heart, it had died a long long time ago.