When James heard the name of Gloomy Gulch for the first time, he was expecting something a lot more desolate, like a gulch in a desert.  What he didn't expect however was an eerie deadened forest, largely stripped bare of its foliage to become the classic setting of a horror story.  It had everything one would expect from such.  A large mist-enshrouded forest filled with shadows, a grand old mansion with glimmering unnatural green from all around it, and of course a giant cone-shaped beehive in one corner of the forest.
Thankfully a path was seemingly laid out before them on where to go, straight through the grove itself despite James' trepidation for how darkened a forest path it was.  Kruz reassured him that, despite his more wounded status, they would make it through.  With that, they walked forwards, the raptor expecting himself to be assaulted by ghosts of all shapes and sizes.  He was somewhat right, in the sense that most of the ghosts did not bother the kremlings, caring little for the actual politics of the Kremling Krew.
Some however were frenzied enough in death to try and attack them, the two doing their best to fight through the woods.  Shadows hid within healthy green leaves, eyes peering from hollowed-out tree stumps, some of which seemed to have the faces of witches.  Hollow eyes that judged them above pointed noses made of bark, tiny arms branched out in open mockery of their journey.
Kruz did his best to keep up, but he was clearly in pain, and all James could do was support him carefully with his advice on how best to traverse the forest.  The usual affair of wasps would dare to hinder them as well, along with porcupines trying to barge into them, thick monochrome quills rustling back and forth upon their backs.

At some points of the forest the raptor encountered a strange anomaly, or rather two.  One being the strange milk-white wispy ropes that flitted in and out of existence above precarious pits, red haunting eyes topping off the very tip of the rope which snaked tenderly in mid-air.  Not even Kruz had an explanation for these things, but they were apparently useful as ropes themselves so they took their time in waiting until it was clear, before leaping and swinging across.
This did not make things better for the kremling, forcing himself to keep up as they encountered their other terrible problem.  Kabooms.  Terrible kremlings with skin the colour of blood and eyes just as shot with them, hiding within TNT barrels.
	"More of the damned remnants of past crews," said Kruz with a weary sigh, "the smell of gunpowder fills 'em up and they're so far gone with losin' their friends that they got no will to live anymore.  They'll gladly take you down with 'em."
With that warning, they skirted past them best as they could and onwards towards the large mansion in the distance, wrapped within a misty cloak.  The Kabooms dared to try and run into them, usually missing to careen into a wall or off a cliff to explode in a horrendous mess, their screams chilling the raptor to the bone.  It wasn't the fact they were bloodcurdling screams that resonated throughout the woods and only added more to their atmosphere.  But it was the fact that it was a scream of relief, of bliss, of escape.

The darkness continued to encroach upon them, with James doing his best to lend a shoulder to Kruz to more quickly traverse the woods.  It terrified him enough with suicidal kremlings and mysterious whimsical ghostly ropes, but it also did not help that the ghosts themselves played with them in either giving them gifts or death, at the hands of explosive barrels, some of them even having kremlings within them.
The forest rustled around them, the wind caressing their cheeks almost possessively so, sometimes daring to grab them more tightly with every new step they took towards the abandoned-looking mansion.  Kruz told him that, naturally, the mansion was not technically abandoned since ghosts had taken it over, one in particular who knew neither friend nor foe.  James wondered why they could not just skirt around the mansion instead, until he reached its gates and found out why.
An indomitably high iron fence topped with wicked spikes prevented them from passing around, circling all around the half-sunken manor except for its entrance.  The house itself, black like midnight and wrapped within a soul-chilling fog, loomed above them with two or three stories of pulsating green windows, dripping with ectoplasm that sent shivers up their spines.
There was little that could be said of the front gardens and its gravestones haphazardly placed across the lawns, and even less so was written upon them.  Nameless for eternity, statistics of an island's dark history.

	"We seriously have to-"
	"Yes."
Kruz was tired of explaining things, and wanted nothing more than to pass through the haunted hall, so he gave nothing more than a summary.
	"We get through it quick, ride out on a cart through it and head out the other side okay?"
	"Cart?  You mean like...rollercoaster?"
	"Yeah, the guy here liked 'em, now come on."
Entering the mansion itself, they soon found that this cart would be a necessity.  The floor had been worn away, in fact there was very little left of it, somehow rotted away to leave nothing but a gaping abscess beneath them, which partly explained the manor's appearance of having somewhat submerged into the ground.  They made their way across small remnants of the wooden passageways, between stately libraries and dining rooms, all of them long abandoned for spider webs to consume within their silken embrace.
Books molded beyond comprehension, crockery left to rust from the salty mist that pervaded the air, hallways broken into shambles with nothing but a long winding metallic railroad throughout the entire mansion.  Even when it looked out of place, it looked gnarled and twisted enough to easily become part of the house itself.
	"We're not gonna meet any ghosts here right?" asked James, tempting fate.
	"There's only the one guy here, hopefully he's sleepin' down there somewhere, long as we don't hear anythin' we're safe."
Soon enough, after traversing the treacherous rotting passages, they found the minecart awaiting at some sort of checkpoint.  It was exactly like the rollercoasters back at Kremland, a skull-shaped little thing with no actual seating.  Of course it was not left unguarded, as evidenced by the sound of a deep cackling that seemed to come from the mist itself.
	"WH-wha!?"
	"...great, it's him."

Despite the apparition that would appear before them, Kruz was too tired to even try to be scared with his friend, as they were soon introduced to the spectral lord of the manor.  A huge skeletal kremling with a blue bandanna atop his skull, glaring a single ruby-red eye upon the intruders.  He floated without legs in the air, his body ending in a small bony tail.
	"What poor misfortunes must lie upon thee, in order to traverse this forsaken manor?"
	"Oh f-f-f-fuck you're a big ghost," whimpered James.
	"Really?  And here I thought this mansion was a doll's house."
	"We've come to pass through yer mansion to head upwards sir," said Kruz politely.
	"Sir?  You still respect me, even if we have never met?"
	"Just 'cuz yer dead don' mean you don' deserve respect."
	"True.  Your friend must be new.  See how he shivers with abject terror."
	"I-i-i'm not scared!" cried out James.  "I'm just surprised is all!"
	"HAH, arrogant mortal.  Even trying to hide THAT would be impossible for you."
	"What!?"
	"Lissen, sir Kackle," asked Kruz, "we need to pass through to reach our captain, we got somethin' important to tell 'im!"
The spirit bent forwards towards the slightly fearful Kruz, bony snout almost touching him.
	"...and what may that be?"
	"Private business sir, can't tell ya."
	"Is it perhaps a letter for his execution?"
	"...nothin' gets past you dead guys huh?"
James freaked at the accurate guess, moreso for the fact that Kruz blatantly admitted it.
	"Politics amongst the living do not concern me anymore, especially if they involve my successor."
	"Successor?" repeated the raptor.  "Wait, were you the previous captain!?"
	"Hahaha...no.  I was formerly his first mate.  Krook has quite the fitting name, let us just say."
	"...damn."
	"Perhaps you might find your objective undone by the time you reach your faithful captain."
	"Why ya say that?"
	"I just recently had to...fumigate the manor of some loathsome little hairy beasts."
	"Wha-wait, the Kongs passed through already!?!"
	"A little chimp and his even hairier mate rode through my manor daring to outwit me.  Perhaps you may prove yourself just as able."
	"Whut, you wanna race or somethin'?" said Kruz.
	"Indeed.  I am the hunter, and you are the hart.  It is the only thing that gives me pleasure in my death."
	"That...is kinda creepy," observed James.
	"Nevertheless this is my manor, and my rules apply here.  Now...if you wish to escape, stride upon my carriage and accept destiny."
	"Ahhhh what rules are those?"
	"Ride this carriage and evade my grasp.  There are ways to evade me but if you do not use them....then I will enjoy having another corpse or two to dine with."
Without another word, the raptor more keeping silent out of fear, the two immediately hopped onto the cart as Kruz tensed himself up in preparation, for what he knew would be a rather dangerous race.

As soon as they were settled, the cart sped off of its own will, racing across the track as Kackle glared down upon them from behind, his long skeletal fingers reaching out to catch them.  James kept on the back seat to better swing his scissors, not just in trying to keep the ghost away throughout the empty halls and the infinitely expansive darkness that laid beneath the rails, but also for what Kruz indicated up ahead.
	"BARREL!"
	"What?!!"
	"HIT THE BARREL UP AHEAD!"
A barrel floated lifelessly within the air, with a green plus sign painted on.  Without even questioning, James stabbed his blades upwards and cleaved through the barrel, which somehow sped up the cart even moreso, putting distance between them and the gleefully spectral hunter.
	"GOOD WORK!  REMEMBER, GREEN IS GOOD, RED IS BAD!"
	"OKAY!"
	"You have learnt my rules well," mocked the spirit, "but will your memory last as long as those who will remember you in memoriam?"
	"SHUT UP YOU BONEY FUCKER!"
Kackle merely cackled, of course, and continued to make haste, with James now knowing what was the best strategy in dealing with this monster.  The raptor waited to see barrels come up ahead, waiting to see green.  It was the first time in his life that he was actually happy to see the colour green on something.

The cart raced along the rails with a maddening pace, the spectre always behind them, continuing to follow the rails around bookshelves, up along stairways, twisting through hallways, screaming past fireplaces and underneath auspicious darkened paintings.  The barrels rushed up to meet them at an uneven pace, some green, some red, one of which James hit by accident when a row of them came up.  The cart screeched to a shuddering heart-stopping slower speed.
	"NO!"
	"Hhhhha ha ha ha ha.  All those who die within my manor shall become nothing but instruments to my game."
	"SH-SHUT UP, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?"
	"How else shall I paint the barrels that will both save and end your lives?"
With a half-realisation that nevertheless terrified him, James was more careful to gauge between red and green, which only made him more panicky when the number of green-painted barrels began to thin out closer to the end.  One section of the track was littered with them, the raptor easily slashing through most of them and keeping ahead.  But then came the next part.  Which were all red.
Normally this would be easy since all James had to do was holster his weapon and not hit them.  But the race was made more interesting by the fact that the track now had holes in them and they had to not only leap to other carts but also avoid the deadly red barrels that would hasten them to their fate.
James had some control over jumping between carts, but Kruz made things more difficult with his weakened self, his leaps making him either nearly miss the carts or nearly hit the barrels, even hitting one on occasion that screeched the cart down, the haunting cackle of their lord turning louder behind them.
Soon however, they reached the exit, a foggy light from the other side of the mansion, threatening to blind them with the moonlight above.  Kackle hissed with a deafening cry that made the whole manor shiver, fading away by the light of the moon as they rode straight out of the hall and into the forest.  The cart slowly faded away from underneath them.

The two reptiles landed hard onto a somewhat soft undergrowth further into the forest, rolling to lessen possible injury which did not help Kruz.  Grunting hard as he struggled to keep himself steady afterwards, the fall clearly wounded him quite a bit in danger of further serious harm.  James was no worse for wear from the tumble, and immediately ran over to help his friend.
	"Shit, you okay!?"
	"U-uh huh...made it out huh?"
	"I guess...any more asshole ghosts out there?"
	"Nope...think we're cool.  Also good that the Kongs passed us, means we're not gonna cross paths with 'em."
	"Good for us yeah but I wanna get to K. Rool before they even look at him."
	"Deal with it when ya come to it.  Let's keep walkin'."
Despite James' concern, he agreed and let Kruz walk with him through the woods, which had become somewhat troublesome by strong incoherent winds buffeting the leaves left and right, stinging their cheeks as little green darts scratched past them.  They shielded themselves as best they could, against the forceful gusts blowing between wasps and porcupines in the dark green glade.  Eventually, after passing through the worst of the winds that even threatened to push them off of large slopes, Kruz soon found his limit.
	"H-hold up."
	"What?"
	"I'm a li'l tired...need...nngh..."
Kruz slowly sat down upon a tree stump, sighing heavily to himself.  Clearly the journey was far too strenuous upon the wounded kremling, breathing heavily, accompanied by the smallest shiver of his ribs trying to maintain their composure.  James had had enough, no longer thinking his friend had the stamina in him to climb the whole island.

	"Kruz, you can't keep going like this."
	"N-no worries I just need-"
	"You need to rest.  I can't take you like this, no way you're gonna climb K. Rool's Keep like this."
	"Whut you suggest then?  Leave me out here in a haunted forest fer the ghosts to make me one?"
	"No, I mean-"
	"Cuz the only reason you got this far was 'cuz of me bro.  You can't just abandon me like that."
	"I'm not gonna abandon you!  I appreciate all the help you've given me back on the ship and on this island, but if you keep pushing yourself like this, you're gonna need a lot more than a doctor!"
	"If I can't come with you to the end, then this whole journey'll be pointless to me."
	"And if you die, then this whole journey will be pointless to me."
It was childish he had to admit, but he cared too much for Kruz to want to risk his health any further by pushing him onwards.  Yet he understood that kind of arrogance, the determination to see things through.  He didn't want to undermine that in his friend, knowing full well how insulting it would be.  An idea came to him.
	"Listen...it's the final stretch up here, right?"
	"Yep.  Just go past that crow's nest outlook and you'll be at the front of the keep."
	"Great...maybe you should cover up the rear or something."
	"Whut?"
	"Think about it, K. Rool must be gathering SOME forces to follow up behind us like Keen or such, what if you stayed back here and covered our tracks or something?  I mean it's just climbing a tower, I'm not gonna need any guidance for that."
	"Heh, guess not...I don' think I can fight in this state too well...you'll wanna watch out though."
	"Why?"
	"This place as you already know is filled with the dead.  That crow's nest is no exception when it comes to vengeful crew members, hiding out there seeking revenge, practically a focal point fer it."
	"Any reason?"
	"Prob'ly the area it's in, some sorta spiritually strong area.  Ghosts are attracted to those kinda places, like homes fer 'em.  Klubba told me this once but I kinda forgot sum of...it...wait...wait a minute."

He slowly stood up, clutching his ribs with a growing idea behind his eyes, lighting them up.
	"Klubba!"
	"What?  What about him?"
	"One of his tollbooths is here, I'll shack up with 'im, heal up a bit an' cover our tracks, what you say?!"
	"Well, sure that'd be great!  But...isn't he back at the swamps?"
	"Not exactly...come on."
With a renewed spirit the two navigated through the remainder of the woodland towards a small cluster of dead darkened trees, next to the large wasp hive at the corner of the forest.  James had no idea what Kruz was up to, but he followed him carefully, slowly wandering into the strangely specific area within.  The strangest thing about it was the feeling that he had been there before.  It was only made all the more surreal by the tollbooth of wood and metal, propped up beside a very familiar muscular green kremling who greeted them.
	"Ahoy there, me hearties!"
	"Wha-...Kuh...K-klubba!?!!"
	"The one an' only."
	"How, wha, he-"
	"The place he's guardin', the Lost World?" explained Kruz.  "Got a magical gate to it, which he stands in front of, right?  Well...you can access it from anywhere on the island but where you access it from, it drops ya off at a different point in the Lost World.  So he guards all of 'em at the same time."
	"How...how can you do that!?!?"
	"It's magic bro.  He ain't gotta explain shit.  Think of it like...the moment you step into his area, yer between the island itself and the Lost World."
	"Ah...oooookay."
As they reached towards the tollbooth, explaining to Klubba their plans and that Kruz needed resting, the mighty guard nodded with his consent.  Kruz sat down on an oil drum next to the tollbooth, exhausted as he looked at his friend.
	"Listen.  I know I'm gonna be a burden on ya in this state-"
	"No no look I didn't mean-"
	"No it's fine...you gotta get up there and deal with the captain before those monkeys beat ya to it.  I'll hang here with Klubba, he'll keep me right an' nobody's gonna mess with 'im."
	"...well...i-if you say so."
	"I do."
James felt rather strange at the feeling that he would be parting with his newest friend of several months running.  Having stuck by his side every day since he was first hoisted up onto the Gangplank Galleon, he could already feel the emptiness beside him without Kruz.

	"So...am I gonna see you again?"
	"Maybe, if you survive...you are gonna survive right?"
	"Hah, you kidding?  I've handled way worse than that fat fuck!"
	"Haha, glad to hear."
	"You and Klubba can hang out or...fuck or something."
	"Pfft no way, I mean look at the size of 'im!"
	"Bah, you love it anyway."
	"Look who's talkin'."
	"Hhehehehe...."
	"......don't die on me, okay?"
	"I won't, don't worry."
With their parting unavoidable, all the raptor could do was tenderly embrace his friend, who in turn tenderly brought hand and hook to his back before they kissed.  It was not a hot kiss of passion, or a deep kiss of love, but rather a warm tender kiss between friends.  This did not make it any less special than a kiss between lovers as they held tightly to each other, but not too tightly for the sake of Kruz's injuries.  As they broke their kiss, they placed their heads on each other's shoulders, small moans coming from each other.
	"James..."
	"Yeah?"
	"...I hope you come back."
	"I will."
He slowly slipped himself away from Kruz, taking every single effort in his muscles to not just fall back into his embrace, and slowly walked away.  With scissors intact, he found himself gazing towards the towering edifice that crowned the island itself.  He struggled to not look back, sighing with a heavy heart at being alone once more, on his own.  The time for camaraderie was over.  Tenderly feeling the handle of his sheathed blades with one hand, he walked towards the abandoned crow's nest.

The crow's nest was already an unusual sight in the middle of the forest.  It wasn't even still attached to a ship like the wrecks he had encountered in Crocodile Cauldron or Krem Quay.  This one had been placed specifically here like a giant pedestal, mainbraces and all, platforms around three levels of it all the way to the top.  A gateway to K. Rool's Keep, blocking the way of the woodland's exit.
As a result of its placement, it was also a victim to furious storms that buffeted the strengthened timber.  There was no way around it either.  He had to climb over the rigging and the nest itself to climb down the other side of it.  Thanking his rigging days with Kruz, he began to climb with trepidation, worried for what might await him on the other side.  The climbing from ground level was easy enough, scrabbling his way upwards to the first level of it, despite the vicious scattershot of raindrops that sliced across his skin like a shotgun's spray.
As soon as he had reached the first section of the mast however, he heard a different kind of spray cracking the wood near him.  The blast of a pistol.  James flinched as he heard a most loathsome accent.
	"Didn' think you got rid of me that easy, didya?"
Turning towards the voice, he snarled.  Standing upon another mast, against the wind-striking rain, was Krow.  His lean orange figure now in somewhat bedraggled blue pants, casually reloading his musket despite the storm.
	"The fuck you want now?!"
	"That ain' the way to speak to yer superior, lad."
	"I resigned, along with everyone else who didn't drown."
Another potshot taken at James made him duck behind the mast.
	"You gotta look at the bigger pitcha Rex, 'ow you gonna git anywhere in loif if you don' sit back an' take things slowly?"
	"Maybe if someone TOLD me what the hell your plans are, we'd get along better!"
	"....where's Kruz?"
	"Somewhere safe."
	"Pfft, coward, good fer 'im.  Shoulda followed 'im mate, cuz now oi'm gonna decorate this place wif yer guts."
	"Try me."

With that he leapt from behind and across the mast towards Krow, scissors out to deflect any possible bullets.  But the kremling did not react quick enough to even fire as he was pushed down by the blades' flat edge, readily given a slash across the chest before James tried to swing downwards with a horrendous cleaving.  It scraped against the mast, only to hit the yard-arm the sail was hanging from when he saw that Krow had slipped off of the mast, and swung his whole body acrobatically around the ragged sails, to leapkick James from the side.
The raptor did not expect such agility from the larger rigger, but saved himself from falling by stabbing the mast with his scissors.  The thick vertical wood took the hit well enough as support, as he did his best to swing around to the other side of the mast and scrabble back onto the sail's support.  The footing available was not wide, and slippery enough from the storm but neither of them minded.  If anything, it was an extra challenge.
Kruz readily put away his pistol and brought out a cutlass to slash at his former lackey, blazing with fury in his eyes as James deflected as best as he could against the clearly faster-swinging kremling, compared to his slower larger blades.  Knowing that it was only a matter of time before he would get taken down with several cuts, with one or two already inflicted upon him in the fight, he waited for a slower swing from Krow.
It took a while for this to happen however, the elite rigger eagerly slashing left and right, forcing James backwards despite his best to stand against such a ferocious assault.  He protected himself as best as he possibly could with his reflexes, but even with that he was still getting hit whenever Krow made a devious feint to slash rapidly at another part of the raptor.  Blood scattered minutely into the air, the wind slicing across fresh new wounds.

Soon however Krow got cocky enough to try for a huge powerful swing, and with that opportunity, James suddenly opened his scissors wide and snapped them shut around the cutlass, threatening to twist the blade out of the kremling's grasp.  They tugged hard against each other, as the wind howled like a horde of banshees all around them.
	"Think ya got this all sorted ou', do ya!?" roared Krow above the maelstrom.
	"I made it this far, and I'm not gonna let some rope-climbing birdfucker stop me!"
	"Insult all ya loike, yer not gettin' past ME!"
With a tremendous strength he punched and kicked James in succession, knocking him away enough to pull his cutlass out of the scissors' grip and hastily run upwards to some remnants of rigging.  He climbed higher towards the second level, as James quickly followed after him, scrabbling up onto the ropes.  But he dropped away and swung from side to side when Krow pulled out his pistol to try to shoot him.  Snarling at missing from the swaying of the ropes, he continued to climb with tremendous speed to give himself another opportunity.
The raptor, while not as fast, managed to keep up somewhat quick enough to stand upon a more widened separate set of smaller sails, a perfect opportunity for Krow above him to bring out his pistol after reloading it.
	"Don't you know never to bring a gun to a sword fight!?!"
	"I'M A PIRATE YOU CUNT, WOT THE FUCK DID YOU EXPECT!?!?"
He dared to fire at the raptor despite the conditions they were in, managing to hit near him at the mast, but the reloading was his undoing when James took the chance to climb up the mast as quickly as possible.  Dodging another shot by shimmying around to the side to move his body, he leapt across the gap, kicking hard away from the pole and landing straight on top of Krow, knocking his gun away into the mist below.

With the raptor on top, he viciously clawed and teared at his former superior, violently biting the snout to make it bleed, jaws snapping at each other like animals as punches and slashes went to and fro.  James tried to stop the kremling from rolling, knees to the guts exchanged between them to try and weaken the other's disposition.  James however had the upper hand purely on sharper claws and teeth, and almost managed to rip open Krow's throat, who had his own claws wrapped tightly around the raptor's throat to try and strangle him.
	"F-fuckin' inferior PRICK!"
	"I'm not the one with shitty-ass claws, what the hell is K. Rool planning!?!"
	"You still on that?!?  Who the hell you think you are!?"
	"JAMES CAMPBELL MOTHERFUCKER!"
Emphasising his name with a solid punch across the snout, Krow had enough, and rolled with the momentum of the punch to throw James off of him.  Climbing yet again with a furious snarl, his cutlass was his only weapon left as he clambered up to the very top of the abandoned nest.
As the raptor gave chase, scrabbling upwards upon the rigging, flayed across his wounds by the sheer force of the wind, he also began to notice something unusual.  Strange blue lights, dull and flapping like cloudy birds formed all around them, some even perching upon the sails.  He suddenly developed the feeling that he was being watched by a dozen eyes, but he ignored it and clambered up to the crow's nest itself, where Krow himself stood with his cutlass.
	"Now yer on moi home turf mate."
	"Really?  Where's your wings so you can fly away like a fucking coward?"
	"Hehe, still tryin' to insult me?"
	"Doing a good job of it, birdfucker."
	"DON' CALL ME THAT!"
	"Why, is it true?  That why you hang out in the crow's nest all the time, with your little nest?  Or is there someone else, maybe a bird wife?"
	"THERE'S ONLY ONE KROW 'ERE, AN' THAT'S ME!  NOW STOP TRASH-TALKIN' AN' FUCKIN' FOIGHT ME, YOU LI'L SHIT!"
With anger risen in his opponent, James smiled knowing that if he enraged his opponent then he was perhaps more likely to make mistakes.  At least that's what he believed.  But sadly he would not get his final battle against his former superior, when a horrendous shriek came from above, an unearthly cry that pierced the storms themselves.
	"WH-what the hell was that!?!?"
	"..........no."
	"Huh!?"
	"C-can't be..."

For some strange reason Krow found himself distracted, or rather chilled to the bone by the sound.  James wanted to attack him when his guard was down, but something about that sound made him stay his blades, wanting to see what developed.  The blue wisps he had seen before now culminated together, flying above them, seemingly unfazed by the ferocious winds.  The sounds of ethereal squawking started to fill the air.  This disturbed James slightly, but to Krow, it looked as if he had suddenly remembered a traumatic experience.
	"N-NO!  NO, NO PLEASE NOT NOW!"
With that fearful plea, a larger blue shape began to form out of the rain, slowly growing feathers, a crackling like broken bones filling the air as it grew wings, a beak and claws.  Eyes gazed piercingly with judgement as the spectre revealed itself.  An enormous vulture, adorned with a pirate's hat, easily twice the height of either Krow or James.  The kremling's words confused the raptor.
	"K-...K-Krow?"
The apparition squawked with the unladen fury of the undead at his reptilian brother-in-name.
	"N-no...i-it weren't me faul', it wuz the cap'n's faul', not moine!  P-please, you know me, I'm yer mate!  You know oi wouldn'...don' do this..."
But the spectral vulture could only stare down unto him, piercing deep into his soul, seeing through his lies.  And Krow knew it.  He knew it all too well.  He could feel the eyes search within him to the point of agony.  The stare made him go down onto his knees and suddenly break down uncontrollably into tears, in the midst of the maelstrom, weeping to the vulture's spirit.
	"I'M SORRY!  I'M SORRY, OI DIDN' MEAN IT, OI DIDN' KNOW WHUT'D HAPPEN!  IF OI KNEW, OI WOULDA SAVED YA!  BU'...C-cap'n's orders...you know we can't...disobey the cap'n...even if it means leavin' friends behoind.  I...'e 'ad no place fer yer koind in 'is world.  I'm sorry...Krow.  ...y-you...no...no you can't forgive me, can you?"
The vulture said nothing, merely staring down upon Krow, judging eternally so.  James kept out of the way, not even daring to move at this strange exchange.
	"...go on.  Do it."
Krow stopped his tears and stood boldly in defiance towards the large spectre, seeming to expect something.  Fear masked as fury started to rise up in him.
	"DO IT!  TAKE ME DOWN TO 'ELL WITH YOU!  WE'LL BE TOGETHER ONE WAY OR ANOTHER, MATE!  OI PROMISED YOU THAT LONG AGO DIDN' OI?!?  DO IT!  DO IIIIIT!"

And with that, the creature opened its maw and made a most terrifying noise.  A noise that could only be described as a choir of the dead ringing out from its beak, piped directly from the ninth circle of hell, directly towards Krow.  He merely opened his arms wide and accepted his fate, crying out as his body began to glow a grey ethereal light.
The light soon grew stronger, as the winds turned darker with a more violent flurry, battering the masts mercilessly, forcing James to hold on tightly as he witnessed the death of his former superior.  A strange ghostly layer of flesh was ripped from his body, slowly, like he was being skinned alive.  A heart-wrenching scream became his last words as the light flowed from his body straight into the vulture's maw, devouring its spiritual carrion.  As his soul was flensed from his body, Krow soon faded.  Not into a pile of flesh, but into dust itself, the skin withering into crackled scales, bones revealed anew, muscles decaying into ash that were soon scattered to the four winds.

Soon the apparition had disappeared, leaving James upon the nest undeterred from his final march towards the castle, which revealed itself soon enough.  With the departure of the mysterious spectre, the storm seemed to lift itself, slowly unveiling before him to reveal K. Rool's Keep.  A blackened tower where foulest green light shone from its barred windows.  His view also allowed him to see in contrast the resplendent paradise of Donkey Kong Island, behind it in the distance.
	"Finally...wonder what the hell was up with Krow?"
He pondered on whether or not he had accidentally called him out on a secret via a random insult, but whatever had occurred between Krow and the other Krow, he didn't care.  Every new area he passed through did not spur his confidence any more.  In truth, he felt only more scared with every new land he had passed.  First the boiling volcano, then the swamp of madness, the carnival he was hunted from, and now this forest of the dead.  With trepidation encouraging his fear after Krow's horrifying demise, he climbed down the other side of the rigging, and down onto the pathway towards King K. Rool's lair.