Some nights, Victor just went for long walks. Usually, it was because he couldn't sleep. That night, though, he was consumed by something vaguely unsettling– some unnamable thing that had him wanting to crawl out of his skin.
He found himself at the docks watching someone board a ship that looked like it 110% needed to be left the shit alone. He'd seen enough horror movies to know that ships like that in a modern setting rarely ended in a good time for anyone. So he followed her, because what else did you do when your life's goal was to be anything but the villain.
It was, in his mind, a good thing he did since when he got on the deck all he could see was ghost pirates stalking towards her like every last one of them decided they'd been friend-zoned and were also probably cannibals.
The ship itself was wooden, but the neatly stacked piles of cannonballs definitely weren't. He didn't have to think about it. Maybe she'd summoned the dead somehow. He didn't know. What he did know was that he wasn't going to leave her to this. He was pretty sure sending the balls flying at the pirates wasn't going to do much (if any) damage. It'd be a distraction. Maybe iron did something to ghosts. He didn't know. The lore was all kinds of screwed up depending on the source material.
He sent a stack of them flying, aiming at their spectral forms while he ran to the girl. "Running seems like a good idea right about now," he said. He'd protect her if he could. He wasn't sure how, but he'd manage. He could at least hold them off, right?