The dark, cloudy sky only helped bring haunting feelings to everyone's hearts. At least a fifth of the crew was dead. Blood wet the deck, glimmering faintly in the misty moonlight. The massacre of the sea monster only ringed the truth about the ghost dog's message. They would all die shortly if they continued the path of greed.

Rocco got up shakily. Had he defeated the monster? Did he send it back into the ocean, ending it's reign of terror? Yes, he did. A tiny rat no bigger than one's fist had saved the crew.

The thought overwhelmed him. He almost didn't believe it. But the pain in his legs clarified that he had done it. His heroic act was as real as the pain he was feeling.

He tested his legs to make sure they were okay. They stung a little, but nothing hurt too bad. At most a sprain, but he was able to walk on them.

He heard mourning and shouting through the next few hours. Shouts of complaint, of anger, of indignation. To the captain, to the sky, to the water, to everyone. They all wanted to get off the ship and back on the land where they belonged.

Rocco found Rita and Dondigo by a crate. Dondigo ran and hid when he saw the monster. He knew sea serpents were trouble, but he had only heard of them in legends. Rita followed shortly after and hid with him. She was trembling from shock and confusion.

"That was terrifying!" Dondigo declared. "I was shuttering from my nose to my tail!" Rita nodded shakily in agreement.

"I'm just glad it's gone." Rita muttered, a blank stare filling her eyes.

"Oh yeah, how did it go away?" Dondigo asked.

Rocco thought for a second. He could have said that he vanquished the monster, but would they believe him?

"Umm, I think I saw one of them fire their gun at it. Shot it straight in the eye."

"Well whoever it was, they must have good aim! That eye was about the size of my head!" Dondigo said buoyantly. Rita didn't even smile.

The ocean was calm. Too calm for comfort. The wind was billowing at a comfortable speed, bringing scents of warm night air. It pushed in the sails, roaring quietly but still making the ship slice through the water like an arrow. Rocco could have been wrong, but he felt like it was moving too fast for the wind, even with the steady water. It was as if something was pushing them away from Spain, or pulling them out to the edge of the world.

Men became tired, stopped fighting, and went to bed. The screams faded to hissing accusations, then to quiet whispers, then to silence.

The sun rose too early. Rocco had tried fallen asleep, but the monster's beady eye and the blood on the deck filled his brain. He was afraid to go to sleep. Everything scared him, but the thing that scared him the most was the thought of being dragged into the ocean before he could even wake up.

He was groggy and rattled from the night, but crisply accepted the sun. Maybe he would try to sleep in the day when the other's guards were up.

Rocco watched the crew gather on deck to do their daily chores as he scraped his un-even teeth on a chicken leg-bone. They were sharp like knives in certain parts and slanted, making his whole mouth irritated. He tried to even both sets of teeth to where he liked them. The scraping sound was hollow and terrible, like witch claws on a board, but he had to keep his teeth short. His dam had told him that if a rat doesn't file their teeth often, the bottom set will keep growing till they pierce the skull and puncture its brains. Being unhygienic would be a bad way to go.

Rita crawled by him. She seemed a lot better with time, but her muscles twitched with agitation and her dark eyes searched for something. "That sound is terrible. I'd rather break my teeth than hear that. Sounds like a dying animal."

Rocco shuddered. As he rolled his tongue over his teeth, he remembered them breaking and seeing them in the monster's lip.

"I guess. But I like keeping them straight." Rita nodded.

Trinket sauntered from the cabin like a queen over to Rita and Rocco. Rita sneered, and Rocco felt a sense of panic flare. Her earring reflected the sun.

"Hello, Rita. Rocco. How are you this morning? Doing well from the attack last night?" She asked.

Rocco nodded.

"We're doing great, how are you?" Rita said snidely and without sympathy.

Trinket sat down and examined her claws. "I'm doing well, but I would be better if they would fix that hole. All the sunlight flares into the cabin, and sometimes I need it dark to catch up on my beauty sleep."

"You sleep all day in the sun. Does it make much of a difference?" Rocco asked.

"The sun is warm. And I don't sleep outside all day; sometimes I go back in the cabin." Trinket said. "Speaking of which, all this being awake has made me tired. I'm going to find a quiet, dark spot."

It was quiet again. Rocco could feel himself edging away to sleep, tempted by boredom. Rita shoved him back to reality. He jerked awake. "Hey! You can't sleep on me now, or I'll only be able to talk to Dondigo. And he's busy doing whatever he does."

Rocco blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes. He was tired from all the adrenaline he had been running on, but he would humor her for now. "Okay, I'm awake. What do you want to talk about, or do?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Hey, what's in that bag?" She said, grabbing the leather pouch from his side before he could say hey!

She shifted through the contents, but there wasn't much to look at. His remaining grain and the earring he couldn't figure out. She pulled it out, brightly shining in the sun. "What's this?"

Rocco yanked the bag and earring from her. "It's an earring, I saw some of the humans wearing them. It was on the ground, so I picked it up."

Rita pulled the earring back and quickly un-clipped it so you could easily slide it through an ear. She smiled, then closed it and put it in his bag.

"How did you do that?" Rocco asked.

"Not sure, but I can do a lot of I put my mind to it."

"Well I've been thinking about putting it on, but I don't know how. Do you?" Rocco asked.

"You'll need your ears pierced." Rita said. "If not, then you can't put it in."

"What does pierced mean?" Rocco asked.

"It means you put a little hole in your ear so you can stick an earring in it. Like Trinket's ear."

Rocco remembered how Trinket's diamond earring glinted when the sunlight caught it perfectly. It would
Blind him till she moved her head. How did she get the hole in her ear?

"How do you get the hole in your ear?" Rocco asked inquisitively.

She pulled out the needle that hung by her side. "I could poke one," Rocco shook his head back and forth. "or A cat could claw one out."

The first option seemed better, but he still didn't fancy the idea of a needle sticking out of his ear like a shish kabob.

"No thanks, I'm good." He said.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

The day passed slowly. He ate crumbs for most of it, but no matter how much he ate the feeling of dread that gnawed his stomach wouldn't go away. He watched the sun sink slowly over the horizon, making the water feel like some sort of fiery illusion.

The night brought a chilling feeling to everyone. They muttered and wailed with despair, even the captain was nervous. They were afraid of everything, from the slightest caw of a bird to the shadow of a crate. They knew some awful fate would come. They fully believed the ghost dog was telling the truth.

As the boat cut through gentle waves, a haunting feeling crept with each league. There had been rumors that a mystic triangle by the new land was possessed, and everything that passed through it vanished without a trace. The crew had been doubtful that it was even there when they started the voyage, and they laughed about the matter. But as the haunting, mysterious feeling filled the bottom of their guts, they were beginning to believe the rumors they once thought were jokes.

The stars twinkled into view slowly, and the moon rose like a skull being drawn from a witch's brew. Strange clouds covered the sky. They gathered in swirls, not bundles and whisps. If one were to look closely, a shade of green dyed them. The type of green one would see on a rotting apple, or in a pile of old garbage.

Crew members would point and ask the captain what he thought it was, but he would shrug it off. "¡Solo un truco si la luz! Las cosas no ocurren dos veces, y estoy seguro de que no es nada."

But as the hours ticked by, the crew got more and more worried. Some went to the cabin to rest, but a few stayed up to see what would happen.

Rocco watched the men with anticipation as he rubbed his teeth on a splinter of wood. He could see Bjorn and Snaggle watching them as well, twitching their tails. Rocco wanted to sleep, but he also didn't want to miss anything.

When the moon climbed to the top of it's arc, there was silence for a few minutes. Once they felt they had waited long enough, some of the men gave a nervous laugh. They scorned themselves for thinking anything was wrong. It was past midnight, the hour of magic, and nothing had happened. Maybe an angel had swooped by and stopped the curse.

They retreated to their cabins, laughing. Suddenly, green smoke started to float on the deck. As one young man took a breath to say something, he inhaled some of the green smoke. His eyes became glassy, and the color drained from his skin. He stopped in his tracks, then his knees buckled and he fell to the deck. His breathing became shallow and clattery, then it stopped.

The men turned around as the heard him fall. Rushing to him, they asking what was wrong and took his pulse. Some panicked and breathed the green air. Those who did got the same symptoms, and they fell over. Dead, just like the young man.

Rocco held his breath, and stayed low, under the smoke by a net. He took the slightest of breaths, trying not to breath any air. He looked to his side and saw Bjorn and Snaggle doing the same.

The remaining men dropped low and crawled to the cabin, yelling warnings. "¡Do no respirar el humo! ¡ es trae muerte a todos los que inhalan!"

Some men challenged them, not believing their warnings. "¿Qué? ¡You mentira! ¡We que ir y averiguar por nosotros mismos!"

Five men stomped up the stairs. As soon as they walked through the cabin's door, they stopped. The glassy look filled their eyes, and the dropped dead.

The ghost dog really wanted them to turn around. It wasn't afraid to poison the whole crew to get the message out.