82.

With a roar, the captain leaps upon the mast, her pistol belching smoke and fire. One of the kraken’s eyes explodes in a gush of thick white fluid and gobs of gelatinous flesh.

The sea itself seems to roar in pain. A great green wave swirls over the deck. One massive, suckered arm wraps around the mast, wrenching it off, sending nails and splintered wood raining down on the deck, and flying off into the storm.

The captain, her laugh rising above the storm, discharges her second pistol.

“To hell with ya beast!” she cries, “I’ll follow!”

Mast, captain, monster, storm — all disappear beneath the waves. Now, the sea is flat and calm as glass. Somewhere in the deep black blood and red blood mix, then slowly disperse.