A flash and boom of thunder startled Marco awake. When had he fallen asleep? A storm must be approaching, judging by the sound of the thunder. Marco gave a tired yawn and looked beside him on his double bed, the person he was expecting to be there, wasn’t . Marco gave a little stretch while wondering where Thatch could be. It was the middle of the night.He got up out of bed, leaving the warm confines of the comforter, and instantly felt a sort of fatigue wash over him. He ignored it and left his room, with the intent of searching for Thatch. His bed wasn’t quite as warm as it was supposed to be.The climb up to the deck of the Moby was the longest flight of stairs he had ever taken, or so it had seemed, at that point in time. Marco will never forget the sight that he saw when he finally came up on deck.The image of Thatch’s blood-soaked, still body sprawled out on the deck would be forever seared into his memory, and haunt his dreams.Marco didn’t remember much of what had happened afterwards, it all blurred and blended together in cacophony of colours, figures and voices. Marco only remembered his scream of shock and anguish. Had that really been him? He remembered the blood rushing to his head, the racing of his heart, and the cold sweat on his hands and the blood. Oh god, the blood. It was everywhere, on the deck, on his clothes, on his hands. The blood…had been Thatch’s.All Marco could register was the news. News that Thatch was currently fighting for his life, that Teach had been the perpetrator, had betrayed them, and blinding, overwhelming anger; and the thirst. The thirst for revenge.The phoenix in him had cried out, had sung for blood, the blood of the culprit who had injured its mate so.Unheeding to his Pop’s words, so blinded by grief and rage he had been, Marco had chased after the traitor. Intent he was, on settling the score. The phoenix had thirsted for vengeance, and the thirst would not be quelled until he had the bastard’s head on a silver platter, and his beat up, burnt and charred body a blackened mess behind him.How dare he, how dare that man! Thatch had been his friend, his brother, his partner, his-Marshall D. Teach was not going to get away, for the Phoenix was on the hunt.