Disclaimer: I own nothing, not Pirates (though I would like to get my hands on Norrington.) and not the concept of the Mary Sue. She’s older than I am. But other than that, enjoy. I make no money by submitting this anywhere or writing it up. It’s for my own twisted and perverted pleasure.
What you’re seeing is me. The real me. I’ve only let you get a glimpse of this in the past. I never fully taken off this mask of humanity I wear. Until now.
I am a monster. Huh, I am worse than a monster. I am a monster to the monsters. I cross their lines, become what they swear not to become. And I laugh. I enjoy the mayhem I cause. Enjoy the looks of horror in their eyes. I take pleasure in their pain. I am a true Monster.
You are just unlucky enough to be caught in my trap. I see you watching me, eyeing my every move, suspecting something sinister about me but never having proof. Until now. How unfortunate that you will not survive to tell anyone. I will shed a tear for you once you are gone. I always shed a tear for your kind. Only because there is one less soul to torment.
This is what you get for becoming obsessed. It wouldn’t have happened if you had just left us alone. Your pathetic excuse for a ‘rescue’ attempt will not endear yourself to anyone. They knew what they were getting into when they decided to become involved. I doubt your simple mind could comprehend that little bit of information.
I’m not surprised, really. You’re the fifth one this week that has fallen into my lap. Oh, yes, you thought you’d be cleaver and disguise yourself. That wasn’t much of a disguise, your very being screamed what you were, no matter what you wore. But enough of me gloating. I must hurry, I have to get ready for the ball tonight. Yes, the very same ball you planned to swoop into and bedazzle my beloveds away. The very one that you planned to ‘expose’ me for the Monster I am. Barbossa didn’t, and he was a cleaver man. You won’t, because you’ll be gone. How horrible for you…dear Mary Sue.
I’m finished with you. Enjoy Oblivion.