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His name was James Cotts and he was the captain of the ‘Black Dawn’.  The ship was one of the most feared on the Spanish Main, since Cotts was ruthless and rarely left survivors behind after he and his crew plundered ships and small towns.

Times had changed for Cotts though.  He sat stooped over his desk writing in his log, shaking like a leaf.  For one of the most feared men in naval history, he was acting peculiar to say the least.  His hands shook so badly it was difficult to make out the writing on the page.  It is only this many years later that I have been able to translate what he was writing.

I am the only survivor.  Five and Twenty men have disappeared over the past two days.  After the first night I had no explanation. Fifteen men just gone from the ship.  All the men on watch that night were gone including five hands from their hammocks.

The next day was a true test of my patience because the ignorance of my remaining crew was impressive.  Stories of specters and sea monsters abound the deck as the day progressed.  I tried to put these stories to rest but in my mind I knew it was something more than men jumping ship.  We are deep asea with no land in sight.  All the long boats are still aboard.  If these men jumped ship, they’ve died and moved on to Davey Jones Locker.

That second night told me the tale that I didn’t want to hear.  The singing began not long after dark.  Oh such a beautiful voice it was.  That soft female voice singing it’s song of want in my ear.  It was with great strength that I did not go to the sound.  However I have lost the rest of my crew.  I am the only one left on the Black Dawn and fear I will not be that for much longer.  I have stuffed my ears with cotton to help block the singing.  Furniture has been piled in front of my cabin door to hopefully keep me from following the song.  I fear if I follow I will also meet my end.

Darkness is seeping in the porthole casting shadows upon my desk.  It will not be long now before the singing begins.  I know not what I shall do when it begins.  I have little hope.  Stories have circulated for years concerning the sirens.  Evil women of the ocean that lure sailors to their death.  I can only imagine that is what I’m facing now.

Carefully leafing through the journal I found this last entry quite perplexing.  Perhaps even more confusing was what I found on each page after the one containing that final entry.

That wench finally went back on our deal.  We have been working together for twenty odd years now.  I brought the ships in, she got the crew and I got the plunder.  She would leave me with just enough crew to leave and rebuild.  Returning to the same location in a few months time we would repeat the process.

I know now that my life has come to an end.  She has left me no crew to sail with.  That can only mean she is through with me.  As I write this I can hear the temptress’ song begin.  I can feel her call in my bones.  I will not leave my cabin.  I will not give in.  I will…

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