VARIOUS DISCLAIMERS: Credit for the original fanfiction university that inspired this spinoff goes to Camilla Sandman (also known as Miss Cam, creator of the legendary OFUM) and all her loyal followers. Disney owns PotC and all the characters therein. All future students of the University (except Abigail, who is mine) belong to themselves or to their creators and will be used only by specific request.
"And the ocean waves around the ship glowed and rippled like prisms of fiery silk, reflecting the sunset's light onto the two lone figures standing on the bullwarks of the ship their dark sillhouettes against the brilliant sky. He knew that his wild heart would no longer yearn for completion, for he had found his Hawk, the beloved, chestnut-haired beauty in his arms. She looks up at him as if sensing his thought and their eyes meet, gazing deep into each other's souls as the Black Pearl drifts dreamily towards the horizon, towards new and uncharted waters and the promise of a hope reborn."
Abigail sighed, sniffled, and wiped the sentimental tears from her eyes as she completed the final chapter of her greatest work yet. She could barely wait to post it. The Sparrow and the Hawk, "a story of tragedy, beauty, and two hearts destined to beat as one." She could already imagine the clever, unconventional plot of its sequel, in which Jack Sparrow and Arielle Hawk's teenage daughter, Raven, battled the reincarnated foes of her parents with Will and Elizabeth's son by her side. Abby quickly went to the other room to grab a box of tissues and had just finished blowing her nose when she heard a violent burst of silence. All the tiny, unnoticed sounds- the ambient hum of the air conditioner, the ceiling fan, and the city outside- went dead for a long moment, then resumed their chorus as if nothing had happened. But unlike a power outage, the lights didn't even flicker. And, despite the fact that it shouldn't have been possible to tell what direction a lack of sound came from, the silence had definitely come from her bedroom.
Uncertainly, she walked back down the hall and peeked around the doorway. A severe-looking young woman was seated in Abby's computer chair, reading the paragraphs that filled the word processor's window. She looked calmly up at Abby, who was staring openmouthed.
"Before you ask, no I'm not a burglar, a ghost, or a drug-induced hallucination. I'm a critic. My name is Siren. And you are under arrest for flawed grammar, unrealistic characterization, gross ignorance of historical and nautical facts, and the creation of a Mary-Sue. Various other things as well, but those are the main offenses."
"How did you get in my room?" Abby demanded. Her uninvited guest ignored her, continuing her speech as if she had never been interrupted.
"So you have three choices. One is to cease writing fanfiction and the second is to legally obtain your license from the Official Fanfiction University of the Carribean."
"A-and the third?"
"The third? Oh. Death. Ideally it would be long and painful death, but it really depends on how hungry the Kraken is at the time. When he hasn't been fed for a while he tends to gobble down his food in one bite." Siren looked back at the computer screen and then gave an amused snort. "Incidentally, you should probably know that it's impossible to stand ON the bullwarks of a moving ship without immediately falling off. They're part of the sides of the ship, genius. And these mixed metaphors and run-on sentences... really, I don't know whether to laugh or cry. So what's your decision?"
"You're not real," Abby said, stating the one thing she was sure of at the moment. Sarcastic women did not appear out of thin air and threaten to feed you to sea monsters. This particularly did not happen to people like her. This especially did not happen in Northern Colorado. The nearest ocean was over a thousand miles away. That Kraken would have a bloody long walk ahead of it if it planned to eat anyone or anything living around here.
The young woman let out an exasperated breath, walked to where Abby stood in the doorway, and slapped her hard across the face several times.
"Ow! Hey! Oww! Fine! Okay, you're real. I give in. You're real. But you can't stop me from writing fanfics! They're my own original work and I do NOT create Mary Sues!"
"If they were all that original¸ or if you had bothered to put any work into learning about your subject, we would not be having this conversation. I'll make this simple. Choice one: stop writing. Choice two: fill out this form. Choice three: face the wrath of the creature that lurks beneath the waves." She ticked off the points on her fingers, then produced an official looking form, which she handed to the bewildered fangirl. "Considering your sheer obsession with the characters, I'd say the university's your best bet unless you really think you can stop writing PotC fics. If you're able to learn, obey orders, and keep your mouth shut, you might just make it to graduation in one piece. Good luck."
There was another jarring moment of silence, and then she was alone in the room, staring at the papers in her hands. Slowly, she sat down, placed them on her desk, and filled them out, figuring that since none of this could be happening anyway, she might as well go along with it. The form was several pages long, and the last two and a half were in fine print and seemed to involve a lot of waivers denying the University's responsibility if she were to drown, get lost at sea, fall under an eternal curse, go insane, or be "slaughtered for grammatical reasons." As she dotted the final "i" in her signature, the thought crossed her mind that the wind on her face was oddly salt-smelling.
Wait…wind??... she wondered desperately, and then unconsciousness slipped over her like a shroud and she slept.
To apply as a student to the Official Fanfiction University of the Carribean, fill out the form on the following page and send it to Please put "fanfiction university," "PotC," or something like that in the title so it doesn't get mistaken for junk mail.