POTC Twilight Zone

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POTC Twilight Zone; Twilight Zone and POTC crossover
Topic Started: Nov 1 2008, 11:49 PM (314 Views)
Monkey	Nov 1 2008, 11:49 PM Post #1
Smuggler Posts: 738 Group: Members Member #251 Joined: October 2, 2006	I was challenged to try this PotC, Twilight Zone crossover a while back, and had a lot of fun with it. So much, that I even did it twice. Those of you who hang out at FFnet might have seen them. I may continue doing more as I have time. I'll update if and when more become available. I will cautiously rate them PG-13 as they may imply adult topics or contain dark themes. But I think most of you can handle it. And of course, I don't own any of these characters or make any money from them. Jeesh, I wish! Enjoy! Mind's Eye (PG-13): When Jack takes his booty into his cabin, Will can't seem to stay away from it. [size=0](I can't get the post link to work right on this one, but it's right below this.)[/size] Good Business (PG-13): The time has finally come for Beckett to receive recognition for his deeds. Don't be bashful, Beckett. Step up and claim your reward. In the Blood (PG): If life gave you a second chance, what would you do with it? What would Jack do?



Monkey	Nov 1 2008, 11:51 PM Post #2
Smuggler Posts: 738 Group: Members Member #251 Joined: October 2, 2006	MIND’S EYE Jack swung open the cabin door as wide as it would go, then he stepped aside while two of his crewmen struggled to carry a richly ornate, full-length mirror into his cabin. “Easy now, men. I don’t want anything damaged,” he ordered. “If there’s one scratch on either that mirror or me furniture, it’s coming out of your profits.” It was a nearly empty threat, as profits seemed to be in short supply lately. Even this latest plunder seemed to bare little fruit, and the most valuable item was now going to become a fixture in their captain’s cabin. But all the same, the men wanted to keep what little they got, so they were careful. “Where do you want it, Captain?” one of the men asked. Jack hadn’t thought of that. He stroked his beard as he surveyed the cabin looking for a place where it would be out of the way and yet easy to see. The crewmen were becoming impatient. “Hurry up, will you! This here thing’s heavy and I don’t want to drop it,” the other man complained. Jack glared at him. When were these men going to learn to respect their captain properly? Well, the man had a point. If they dropped it, it would be ruined, not to mention there would be a horrible gash in his lovely wooden floor. He took one more glance around the cabin before a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Right here,” he said as he strode over to an empty space against his wall. He turned his back to the wall to get the mirror’s view and took note that he was looking right at his bed. Perfect. The significance of the mirror’s placement was lost on the men as they shuffled over there to set it down. They let out a simultaneous sigh of relief once they were able to let go, and within a minute, they had finished wiping their brows and were out of the cabin, leaving Jack alone to enjoy his new accessory. He posed in front of it, attempting to look like the most fearsome captain he could be. At first, he found himself having to try different expressions and positions to get the desired effect. But soon, he found that no matter how he stood, he just seemed to command authority. His very stature and composure almost dared someone to defy him and promised that only a fool would take him up on it. Even Jack felt a bit intimidated by his own reflection. It was wonderful! He should have gotten a mirror like this ages ago... The mirror doesn’t lie, or does it? When we look in the mirror, what is it that we really see? Do we see what the rest of the world sees, or do we see only what our mind imagines they see? The mind is a powerful tool, afterall. It can conjure up all sorts of imaginations, then project them onto the world around us, causing us to find proof of the most improbable things based on only a meager amount of evidence. It’s these projections that gaze back at us when we look in the mirror. Whatever we expect to see is exactly what we will find. Those who expect to find beauty will find it. Those who don’t will not. And nowhere is this more true than in The Twilight Zone... “Jack, I demand you take us to Port Royal immediately!” Will said while pounding his fist on Jack’s desk. Jack just sat there with his legs propped up and furrowed his brow a bit, not because he was angry, but because Will’s outbursts were becoming tiresome. It seemed the longer they were out at sea, the more frequent they became. “You promised you would take Elizabeth to see Vera Cruz and return immediately,” he continued. “Taking us along while you plunder a small village was not part of the bargain.” Jack rolled his eyes, “I did not take you along. I left you right here to watch me ship while me and my crew went to plunder. And it wasn’t a village. It was more like a few random huts.” “We were supposed to go home!” “We are,” Jack snapped. He didn’t shout. That would only give Will the impression that he was getting to him. But he would be damned if his integrity would be put into question by this whelp in his own cabin, even if perhaps he was right. In a calmer voice he went on, “We merely took a detour, is all. Besides, Elizabeth isn’t complaining. I doubt she’s ever enjoyed herself more. Did you notice the look on her face when I gave her that brooch I found? That’s really what this is all about, isn’t it? Making Elizabeth happy?” He smiled innocently, knowing Will would never deny that. The man lived for her, afterall. It was a little unsettling, really. Will gritted his teeth. Yes, he had seen her face, and he didn’t like it one bit. That filthy pirate had no right to give gifts of that nature to his fiancée. A stolen gift, no less. How was Will going to compete with that on a blacksmith’s salary and remain an honest man? He loved Elizabeth dearly, but he became frustrated with the task of keeping a woman with her background happy with his limited means. He didn’t need someone like Jack coming along and making it even more difficult by taking her wherever she wanted to go and giving her fancy gifts. Before Will could think of a good retort, Gibbs poked his head through the cabin door. “Captain, looks like your needed out here on deck. Ragetti and Cotton are at it again, and Ragetti won’t let the bird go ‘til Cotton gives him his eye.” Jack seemed almost relieved by the interruption. He turned to Will and said, “Oh look, more pressing matters. We’ll have to continue this later.” Then he stood up and left the cabin with Gibbs following right behind him. Will was left alone standing in front of Jack’s desk, fuming at how the pirate always seemed to get the best of him. He paced the room a little as he debated on whether he should stay and wait for Jack to return (if he returned) or just cut his losses and leave. He walked back and forth several times before he noticed the large, decorative mirror standing near the wall. Will stood in front of it and gave himself a good, hard look. He didn’t understand how someone like Jack could tickle the fancy of a woman like Elizabeth. Will knew she had a fascination with pirates that dated back to her youth, but she was clearly old enough now, and had seen enough of that lifestyle, to know that there was nothing in it for her. What was it about Jack that seemed to intrigue her still? Will may not have been able to give her a lifestyle deserving of a governor’s daughter (although her father would probably see to it that she didn’t want for anything), but at least he wasn’t a criminal. He continued to mull these things over in his head as he studied his reflection, when suddenly, some sort of quick movement caught his eye near the edge of the mirror. It was white and likely part of something larger that was just out of view near Jack’s desk. He turned around quickly to see what it was, but there was nothing. Or at least there was nothing moving. Will approached the desk carefully, though, just to make sure. He glanced over the top of it, moved around some of the charts and other clutter, walked around to the back of it, and looked under it. He even turned around to the cabinets that lined the back wall and opened a few to make sure nothing was hiding. He could have sworn he had seen something, but maybe he had just imagined it, or perhaps the sun reflected off of something and a flash of light caught his eye. Once it was established that there was nothing there, Will turned around and headed toward the door to leave. Afterall, what was there to discuss with Jack at this point? It did appear they were going home now, and once they were back in Port Royal, hopefully Elizabeth would forget all about him. Will glanced at himself once more as he passed by the mirror with no intention of staying there, but again, something moved near the edge. Will stopped, turned back to the desk to confirm nothing was there, then looked back at the mirror. All was still. A chill ran through him. That was twice now that he had seen it. It had to be something. He watched the edge of the mirror carefully as he approached it, waiting to see if the object returned. As he got closer, his view of the room around him expanded slightly, but not enough to include the desk. Finally, an idea came to him that was ridiculous by any standard, but he couldn’t shake the necessity of ruling it out. He grabbed hold of the mirror and slid it around to face the desk. What he saw froze him. He and Jack were at the desk, just as they were only minutes ago, having a heated conversation. He couldn’t hear it, but he recognized the scene immediately. The white object he had seen was his own sleeve as he moved around and flailed his arms in anger. And oh, how ridiculous he looked. The red hue and whining expression on his own face compared to Jack’s coolness made it appear that he had lost all control of the situation. He knew he was upset, but was it really that bad? He was almost ashamed. He had no idea he had let Jack get to him that much. He jumped slightly as he watched himself bang his fist on the desk. If this was really how he behaved when he became angry (and he was fully aware that it happened all too often), it was no wonder Elizabeth would prefer Jack. At that moment, the cabin door flew open and Jack walked in. He looked surprised to see Will standing there. “I thought you’d be gone by now,” he said while making no effort to mask his disappointment. “And what are you doing rearranging me furniture? Has no one taught you manners?” He walked over to the mirror and jerked it around to its previous position, double checking to make sure that it squarely faced the bed. “Where did you get this mirror?” Will asked him. Jack looked at him skeptically. “I acquired it from that little place you called a village. If you even suggest I take it back, I’m dropping you off right here in the middle of the ocean.” “Do you realize what this does?” Will continued, ignoring Jack’s comments completely. Jack only stared at him, trying to decide if it was a trick question. Will explained, “It shows you things which have already happened.” “You mean the past?” “Yes, the past!” Jack laughed nervously, “Well, that’s a relief. I thought you were going to say it showed the future. Now, that would have been ridiculous. You haven’t been into me rum, have you?” “No.” “Good, then leave. I’ve things to do.” Jack was able to shoo Will out of his cabin without a protest, which worried even him. There was obviously something wrong with the lad, but he didn’t have the patience at the moment to try to figure it out. Perhaps Elizabeth could help him. That’s what she was there for, wasn’t she? He opened his rum cabinet, counted the bottles, then grabbed one for himself. Once Will was back on the main deck, he found Elizabeth standing on the starboard side of the ship looking out to sea and came up behind her. “He says we’re going home now,” he told her before she had a chance to turn around and notice him. When she finally faced him, Will noticed she looked slightly disappointed. “He did? Well, I suppose it was bound to end sometime. I have to say, though, I’m in no rush to return.” “Don’t you think your father will be worried about you?” he asked. “He always worries about me,” she laughed. “He doesn’t trust Jack to look after us. I haven’t been able to convince him that one can be on friendly terms with a pirate.” “Your father’s a wise man,” he said more to himself than to Elizabeth. Elizabeth nudged him playfully. “You enjoy sailing with Jack as much as I do. Why else would you insist on coming along?” “To keep you out of harm’s way...and out of his hands.” Will was quickly becoming annoyed with the conversation, and it was beginning to show in his tone. The playfulness was suddenly gone from Elizabeth’s expression. “Honestly, Will. Is that what all of this is about? Is that why you’re in such a hurry to get back to Port Royal, because you think Jack is going try something with me? If that was the case, don’t you think he would have done so by now?” “Hasn’t he?” Will’s eyes automatically shot toward the silver brooch she was wearing on her shirt, in spite of the fact that it looked odd with her men’s attire. Elizabeth knew what he was looking at and clasped her hand around it. “It was a gift, only a gift!” “Of course, a gift! Why else would a pirate be giving away jewels? There couldn’t possibly be anything in it for him.” Will’s temper was starting to flare now, but he remembered what he saw in the mirror and was careful not to lose control again. Now Elizabeth was angry. “I thought you had more faith in me than that, Will. Perhaps not.” She shoved past him and headed below deck. Just before she reached the stairs, Jack emerged from his cabin. Elizabeth stopped and tore the brooch from her shirt, then tossed it to Jack, who fumbled with it a bit but managed to catch it. “Thank you for your generosity, Captain Sparrow, but my fiancé doesn’t believe it’s proper for me to accept gifts from you.” She glared at Will then made her descent. Jack stood there for a moment with the brooch in his hand, obviously confused by what he had stepped in the middle of. Then a subtle smirk crept onto face as he looked at Will. He gave a nod in Elizabeth’s direction and said, “There’s one pigeon who won’t be caged. Faster you learn that, Mate, the better off you’ll be.” “And who are you to be giving me advice about Elizabeth?” Jack pondered that for a bit before answering. “A kindred spirit, perhaps? I like to think so, anyhow.” He tossed the brooch a couple of times in the palm of his hand, shrugged, then slipped it into his coat pocket. Afterall, if Elizabeth didn’t want it, he was sure he could find someone else who did, for a price this time. Then he turned and headed toward the helm. *** Will had no idea what woke him in the middle of the night, but he was grateful for whatever it was. Elizabeth’s hammock, which was right above him for her protection, was empty, and a quick glance around the lower deck told him she was nowhere around. He grabbed his sword and took it with him as he went to the main deck to search for her. A full moon was out that night, and it cast a silvery light onto everything, making a lantern unnecessary. He could clearly see a few men keeping busy with whatever midnight tasks they had been given, and Marty standing on a couple of crates at the helm, but he didn’t see Elizabeth anywhere. Then he heard her voice...and Jack’s. It was coming from the other side of the fo’c’sle near the bowsprit. Will crept onto the fo’c’sle and sat there quietly in the dark to listen in on their conversation. He didn’t know what it was about, but just the fact that they were sitting alone in the moonlight while they thought he was sleeping was enough to boil his blood. But before he accused them of anything, he wanted to know exactly what their offense was. It was Jack’s voice that first became coherent. “You don’t have to tell him, you know. When he finds you’re missing, I’m sure he’ll figure it out. He’s a smart lad.” “I couldn’t do that to him,” Elizabeth said. “He would worry himself sick, and next thing you know, he would go looking for me. Then he’d never forgive me. I’ll just have to tell him. That’s all there is to it.” “Whatever you think is best, Love” Jack said, “but don’t blame me when he starts raving like a madman again.” There was a moment of silence before Elizabeth spoke again. “I’m just curious what’s gotten into him lately. He’s not usually like this.” There was a chuckle from Jack. “It’s the truth, Jack. He’s usually a gentle, mild-mannered soul.” Another chuckle. “You just don’t know him like I do, is all. But I must confess, he’s been an absolute wretch on this voyage. You should have seen the way he was behaving because of that brooch today.” “I saw quite enough, thank you,” Jack said. Elizabeth let out a sigh. “It really was a lovely gift, but there’s no way I could keep it.” “Do you still want it?” he asked “It hardly matters now,” she said. “Of course, it matters. If you want it, you should have it. It’s sitting in me coat pocket. Would only take a minute to go to the cabin and get it. You can come with me if you like. Maybe open up a bottle of rum or two, sing a few songs together, just like before.” Now Elizabeth laughed. “That was a lot of fun, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. And that goes for the brooch as well. I appreciate the thought, but it would only make Will angry.” Will couldn’t listen anymore. When he first went to eavesdrop on them, he had every intention of confronting them and even slicing Jack to bits over her if need be. But he could see now that the battle was already lost. Not only did Jack have much more to offer her (or at least, he had convinced her that he had more), but Will himself had helped to drive her away by attempting to stifle her free spirit and allowing his temper to get the best of him. And now she and Jack were stealing away in the night and making plans for running away altogether. No, another bout of anger wouldn’t solve anything. He removed himself quietly from his hiding place and returned to the main deck, contemplating how he might win her back. Perhaps if he allowed her to keep the brooch, that could be the first step in showing her that he knew how to be a reasonable man. He headed toward Jack’s cabin. The entrance was dark, shielded from the moonlight so that it was unlikely that anyone would see him. Will looked around to make sure he had gone unnoticed, then he tried the door handle, fully expecting it to be locked. It turned easily in his hand, which surprised him. Perhaps there was someone else in there? He opened the door slowly and poked his head in to find the cabin was completely dark except for the moonlight that came in through the windows. When he was sure he was alone, he continued in and looked around for Jack's coat. It was easy enough to spot laying carelessly on top of his desk. Will picked it up and rummaged through the pockets, but after pulling out several small items that he mistook for the brooch, he became frustrated and took to shaking it. Coins, peanut shells, corks, a stop watch, dice, all sorts of odd, practically useless items spilled out onto the desktop. Then finally, the brooch appeared. Will picked it up and examined it in the moonlight. It was a heavy piece in the shape of intricate flowers and vines. An open rose adorned its center, offset by a small bud. Even Will, as skilled as he was with metal, would have had a difficult time creating something so complex, but perhaps he could try one day. He could take a few silver coins, no, gold coins, and melt them down to make her something even more beautiful. He placed the brooch in his own pocket, returned all the odds and ends to Jack’s pockets (he didn’t know to which pockets they belonged, but he doubted Jack knew either) and turned to leave. On the way out, the mirror caught his eye. It was nothing unusual this time, only his own reflection as he passed, but all the same, he had to stop. He was sure of what he had seen earlier that day, and yet Jack acted as though he had no idea what Will was talking about. Or maybe he did know what that mirror was capable of, and that’s why he stole the gaudy thing in the first place and kept it in his cabin. He wouldn’t put it past Jack to find something like that and keep it for himself. Will took hold of the mirror and turned it toward the desk, just to satisfy his curiosity. At first, he saw nothing except Jack’s coat laying exactly where he left it. Then, after a few seconds, the reflection became brighter, as though someone had lit some candles in the room. Will turned around to see if anything in Jack’s cabin had changed, but it was as dark as ever. He returned to the mirror and watched. There was movement, ghostly figures in motion near Jack’s desk that gradually became more opaque until Will recognized them. They were Jack and Elizabeth. Once again, he heard no sound, but he understood what was happening. Elizabeth sat on the edge of the desk with a half empty bottle of rum in her hand while Jack stood in front of her with his hands on her waist. Their faces were only inches away from each other as they talked about something intimate. Suddenly they both laughed, then Jack wrapped his arms around her fully, leaned in and kissed her. Elizabeth threw her arms around his neck, rum bottle still in hand, and returned his kiss. They remained together for what seemed like forever. Will could feel his skin turn hot as he watched the two of them. He told himself to look away, but he couldn’t. He had to know what Jack had done to his lovely Elizabeth. He watched as they finally broke away from each other. Elizabeth turned away slightly and took a long pull from the rum bottle. Jack watched her with interest, then reached for it when she was finished. As he took his own drink, Elizabeth’s hands slid slowly down his chest, feeling the muscles that lay beneath his shirt. The cabin door creaked open behind Will, and he spun around to see who had entered. It was Jack and he was carrying a lantern that lit the whole room. He didn’t take two paces in before he stopped short and scowled at Will. “What are you doing in here?” he asked. “Will?” Elizabeth said as she came up behind Jack. So, this was how it worked. They both got up in the middle of the night while Will was fast asleep, spent a little time under the stars together, then came to Jack’s cabin for their rendezvous. Will smiled, but it was anything but friendly. “Perhaps, I should ask you the same question,” he said. Jack raised an eyebrow. “Come again?” “What were you and Elizabeth planning to do in here, share a bottle of rum or two?” “Oh.” It was clear to Jack they had been spied upon, and he realized it couldn’t look good, regardless of how innocent it was. “‘Twas just a joke, Mate. You know as well as I that she would never go for such a thing.” “And yet, she followed you,” Will pointed out. Jack turned around and looked at Elizabeth. “So she did,” he conceded. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and pushed past Jack to enter the cabin. “This entire situation is absolutely insane. Jack only brought me here to give me back my brooch. That was all. As soon as I had it, I was going to leave. What did you think I was going to do?” Will threw the brooch at her with force, but she didn’t attempt to catch it. Instead it bounced off of the floor and landed near the wall. Jack gasped and went after it, examining it closely to see if it had been damaged. Will and Elizabeth ignored him, keeping their eyes set on each other. “I know exactly what you were going to do. The same as you’ve done before. I’ve seen it!” Will shouted. “Seen what?” Elizabeth shouted back. “The two of you, on that desk!” Will pointed to the desk, and both Elizabeth and Jack turned to it. Elizabeth shook her head, “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” “I saw everything. It was right there in that mirror,” he said. Jack saw that his mirror was facing the wrong way again. He casually walked over to it, being careful to keep as much distance between Will and himself as possible, and laid his hand on it. “This mirror?” he asked. “Of course, that mirror!” Will said “The mirror that shows the past?” “Yes!” “I see,” he said, stroking his beard for a moment as though he was considering the possibility. Then suddenly, he called out, “Gibbs!” Will drew his sword, “I’ll take you both if I must!” “Will, please!” Elizabeth called out and stood between the men. “You’re obviously not well. Let’s just get some sleep and we’ll talk about this in the morning. I don’t need that foolish brooch. I just want you back to being yourself again.” “Do you still think taking him on a trip to Barbados is a good idea?” Jack asked Elizabeth. “Shut it, Jack!” she spat. Jack took a defensive stance. “Barbados?” Will asked her. “Yes, Barbados. Jack had offered to take us there, but the way you’ve behaved on this trip...well, I had considered going without you. But I only considered it. I wasn’t actually going to do it.” Gibbs came into the cabin with his pistol drawn. “What is it Cap’n?” “Will you please escort Mr. Turner to his hammock and see that he doesn’t leave it. I fear he might be a danger to himself.” Jack cleared his throat. “And possibly others.” “What about the brig?” Gibbs asked. “Unfortunately, that’s not going to work with this particular prisoner. Just keep an eye on him, will you?” “Aye, Cap’n.” Gibbs took Will by the arm and led him out of the cabin. He was reluctant to follow at first, but when Elizabeth took his other arm, he went along. As soon as the three of them had left Jack alone in his cabin, he let out a sigh of relief then turned his attention to the mirror. “I do wish he’d stop moving this thing. It’s bloody heavy,” he said out loud to himself and tugged it back toward his bed. “What’s it called again, cabin fever? That must be it. The boy can’t stand cramped quarters. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.” Jack stood back and looked at the mirror. What was Will seeing that put such wild ideas in his head? He saw nothing except himself (not looking quite as impressive as he did earlier, he noticed), and the back corner of his cabin, which included his bed and part of the door. The door. Jack heard nothing, but he saw it open just a few inches. The wedge of light that shone through from Jack’s lantern revealed Will looking back at him, and further down, the blade of his sword glistened. Jack slowly moved his hand to his pistol, never taking his eyes off of Will in the reflection. “I see you there, Mr. Turner,” he said plainly without turning around. “Put the sword down, and let’s talk about this, shall we?” Will didn’t move. “I said,” Jack spun around to the door with his pistol aimed, “put the...” but door was closed tight. Jack ran to it and opened it, but he saw no one on the other side. Gibbs came up from below deck. “Do you need me again Cap’n?” he asked. “Where’s Will?” “He’s in his hammock, just like you said.” “Are you sure?” “I just left him. He’s talking to Elizabeth now.” Jack looked puzzled. “Well done, Mr. Gibbs,” he said and went back into his cabin. Perhaps he was just tired. He sat down on the edge of his bed and began removing his boots when he noticed the mirror again. For some reason, it made him uncomfortable now. He walked over to his desk, picked up his coat, and threw it over the top. *** Jack’s cabin door creaked open slowly. “Come on, quickly. Before he sees us,” Will whispered behind him and entered the room. “Will, you’re mad!” Elizabeth whispered back harshly. “You’re lucky he didn’t lock you in the brig last night. Do you really want to do this again?” But in spite of her misgivings she entered the room behind him. “I have to show you what I saw,” Will insisted. “If, after you’ve seen it, you can still look me in the eye and tell me there’s nothing between you two, then I’ll believe you.” He walked up to Jack’s mirror, pulled his coat down, then stood in front of it. Elizabeth stood next to him and looked. “What is it?” she asked after only a moment. “I don’t see anything. Come on, Will, let’s get out of here before we’re caught.” She turned to leave, but Will grabbed her by her shoulders. “No,” he said, “You have to stare at it for a while. It doesn’t happen right away.” He turned her around again and held her there. “Everything looks normal at first, but before you know it, you start to see things move and that’s when it happens.” The two of them stayed there for a short time, but soon Elizabeth started glancing toward the cabin door, wanting nothing more than to leave. Will saw her in the reflection and became frustrated. “Look at it!” he demanded while giving her a quick shake. Tears started to form in Elizabeth’s eyes. She was becoming genuinely frightened of him. What on earth was causing him to behave this way? She looked at the mirror as directed. “I think perhaps Jack’s right,” Elizabeth said softly with a mild quiver in her voice. “You have a bit of a...,” she was going to say temper but trailed off when she saw Will’s face in the mirror. It was definitely him, but his eyes seemed to burn right through her with anger and hatred like she had never seen in him before. He gave the impression that with one wrong move, he was capable of doing her genuine harm. “A bit of a what?” Will asked. “Nothing,” she choked. “Tell me Elizabeth! What did Jack say?” Without warning, Elizabeth tore away and ran out the door. Will started to chase after her but thought better of it. He had only succeeded in making a bigger mess of things, and he knew it. Chasing her and forcing her back into the cabin wasn’t going to make anything better, assuming he could get away with it. He sat down on the edge of Jack’s bed and buried his face in his hands, massaging his forehead as he tried to figure out what to do. He knew the mirror was showing him things. He knew it. He looked up at the mirror again and saw his own image sitting on the bed. But it only lasted a short time. Will slowly began to fade out of the picture until there was nothing but the empty bed. Then, the ghostly figures appeared and became more solid. It was Jack and Elizabeth lying naked together beneath the covers. Jack was on top of her, kissing her bare neck as she tilted her head back in pleasure. That was all Will could watch. He lunged toward the mirror and knocked it to the floor as though somehow he could reach Jack by doing so. Then he turned back to the bed and began ripping everything from it and tossing it around the room. But his rage didn’t stop there. He continued going around the cabin knocking down furniture and throwing whatever items he could pick up, cursing Jack all the while. He managed to break one of the lamps that hung from the wall, and even a small pane in a window. A bottle of ink spilled all over Jack’s charts before he knocked those to the floor as well. “Mister Turner!” Will heard Jack shout from the cabin door just before he was tackled to the ground by Gibbs and another of his larger men. “I have no more patience for this behavior, and it will not be tolerated! Gentlemen, tie him up and lock him in the brig! We’re dropping him off first chance we get.” “What do you mean, dropping him off?” he heard Elizabeth cry from somewhere outside the cabin. “Marooned, that’s what I mean. You’re lucky I don’t have him keelhauled.” “But you can’t! He’ll die!” she pleaded. By this time, the men had Will bound and were leading him out of the cabin. As they pushed him past Jack, he shouted, “You’re a filthy bastard, Jack! You’ve always had your sights on her, from day one!” Gibbs gave him a shove and they continued below deck. Jack didn’t flinch. *** It had been two days since they left Will on a tiny island to himself. Elizabeth had convinced Jack to give him enough rations to keep him alive until she could come back with her father to get him. At the time, Jack was sorely reluctant to do it, but after having some time to think about the whole incident, he was glad he did. Afterall, he didn’t hate the lad. There was obviously something wrong with him. Perhaps once he was home again, he would shape up just fine. Meanwhile, Jack decided he didn’t care much for that mirror afterall. It made him uneasy, so he had his men turn it toward the wall while they were cleaning up his cabin. He’d get a good price for it somewhere. Honestly, what did he need it for? He knew he was a handsome fellow. He didn’t need a bloody mirror to confirm it. Jack’s thoughts were interrupted when someone shouted, “Captain! We’ve spotted another vessel, portside!” Jack pulled out his telescope and looked. It wasn’t a ship, but a large boat that flew no colors, and it seemed to be coming straight toward them. He continued to watch it until it drew close enough in his telescope that he could make out some of the crew’s faces. They were dark skinned, every one of them, and one of them was a particularly large fellow who looked vaguely familiar to him. Then he saw her, Tia Dalma. She stood next to the large man and almost seemed to be staring at Jack right through his telescope. “Bugger,” he said, and put it away. He considered running, but knew better. A short time later, Tia Dalma boarded the ship. “Where is it, Jack?” was the first thing she said. “Lovely to see you too, Tia Dalma. How is swamp life these days, anyhow?” Jack greeted her. “Do not play games wit’ me, Jack. I did not chase you all dis way jus’ to visit.” “Of course,” Jack smiled and reached in his pocket. He pulled out the brooch he had given to Elizabeth and handed it to her. “It’s a bit dented, but I’m sure one of your people can fix that right up.” “Dat’s not what I want,” she said, but she dropped it in her pouch anyways. Jack rolled his eyes and reached in his pocket again. He pulled out a small book with mysterious symbols all over its cover. “There, you can have your magic book. I couldn’t make head or tails of the bloody thing anyways.” Tia Dalma looked surprised as he handed it to her. “Where did you find dis?” she asked as she tucked it away. “You mean you weren’t looking for it?” “No, I want de mirror. Where is it?” “Oh! The mirror!” he said and motioned for her to follow him to his cabin. But before he opened the door, he turned to her and gave her a wary look. “Why do you want the mirror?” “It is not meant for you to have.” “Why not?” “It is known as de Mind’s Eye. ‘Twas made many years ago for a great king who wanted to rule de world. Whatever him imagined, him could see. Him t’ought it would help to plan battles and build cities, but it only drove him insane. Him imagination was more dan him could take.” Jack became pensive for a moment while biting his lower lip. “I see...” Then he snapped out of it quickly and turned to open the door. “Well, we don’t want any insane people onboard this ship, so come and get it.” He held the door open while two of Tia Dalma’s men carried it out, just as the other men had carried it in... It is said that to love others, one must first love oneself. Mister William Turner learned this lesson first hand. In his heart and in his mind he felt unworthy of a woman like the lovely Miss Swann. Even after winning her affections and a promise of marriage, he was still convinced that she found happiness in others where he was unable to provide it. Everywhere he looked, he found the possibility of losing her to another. Therefore, he tightened his grip on her to ensure he kept her to himself, not realizing that by doing so, he would become the very mechanism that drove her away. What began as a voyage to please his fiancée, ultimately left him marooned in The Twilight Zone.



Monkey	Nov 1 2008, 11:53 PM Post #3
Smuggler Posts: 738 Group: Members Member #251 Joined: October 2, 2006	GOOD BUSINESS It was all coming down around him: his ship, his men, his dreams. How could this have fallen apart so completely and utterly? He had the heart of Jones. He owned the sea. It made no sense, none at all. And all at the hands of Sparrow? Beckett rolled the events over in his mind as he walked among the shouts, explosions and falling debris. In his mind, this simply wasn’t happening. Everything had been accounted for. The Caribbean trade was in his very hands. All he had to do was present it to His Majesty and reap the rewards to follow. No, all of this would go away. Beckett would open his eyes, massage his brow, and recognize it for the horrible nightmare that it was. Then something snapped him back into the reality of it all. A glowing ball of fire swelled before his eyes and was coming right for him. The heat of the blast reached him only milliseconds before the actual flames arrived and threw him from the ship just in time to avoid their full effect. Beckett saw it coming. What took only an instant in real time played out over an eternity in front of him. He watched the glowing, billowing mass grow and undulate like a thunderhead before a summer storm. He felt the solid push of superheated air as it lifted him from the deck of the ship and carried him away. It seared his skin and burned his lungs as he took what he expected to be his last breath. All that was left of the ship below him shrank away as he flew through the air. And all the while, that hideous ball of fire chased after him, gaining on him, until suddenly, it retreated. Everything retreated, including the heat wave that had kept him airborne, and all became still. For a moment, Beckett felt like he was floating. He even briefly entertained the idea that perhaps he was already dead and would continue his disembodied journey to whatever afterlife awaited him. Then his stomach sank and he began his descent. This part of his journey went much more quickly than the first. Almost before he could reach out to grab for something that wasn’t there to save him, his body slammed into the ocean below. The sensation was like hitting solid land. It sent a piercing shockwave through his body and completely winded him before he sank under the water. He saw the rippling surface above him begin to glow with the fiery blaze that had once been his ship. As he descended even further, he became enveloped in a shroud of deep blue: the EIC flag... Cutler Beckett, a perfect example of a self-made man who worships his creator. And like any man whose object of worship has been ridiculed and blasphemed, he has made it his moral duty to elevate said object back to its original shrine of greatness or higher by taking out his revenge on those who would dare to bring it down. His personal crusade to earn himself a place among the great men of history has now come to a close. It didn’t end with the triumphant victory that he so desired, but he can rest assured that he will be recognized for all he has done, if not by those whose lives he touched in the realm of the living, then perhaps in The Twilight Zone... The air was thick with the smell of damp earth and a hint of sulphur. Its temperature was slightly warmer than was comfortable and didn’t move, making each breath a conscious effort to draw the air in through the nostrils and pull it down into the lungs. Stifling, that was the word that came to Beckett’s mind just before he opened his eyes. The view before him was no more encouraging. At first, he saw nothing, only darkness. Then as his eyes adjusted to the muted light, he was able to make out rock formations under a soft orange glow. He appeared to be in some sort of cave, and judging by the sound and motion around him he was moving along a river. He blinked a few times before his view was obscured by the face of a dark-skinned woman who hovered over him and examined him with wild, piercing eyes. When she saw that he was awake, a warm smile spread across her face, revealing a set of teeth that would be perfect if they hadn’t been discolored by some sort of black substance. The woman placed a hand on Beckett’s forehead and brushed some stray hair away from his face. “Der you go Cutler Beckett. We will finish your journey soon,” she said to him. “Where am I, and who are you?” Beckett asked. “I could have sworn...” “You was dead?” She finished for him. “Dat is true. My name is Calypso, and you are in de Underworld, de Realm of Hades.” “Calypso? Hades?” A subtle laugh escaped him. “Why, that’s all part of ancient mythology. A religion of its time. Little more than legend and folklore.” “Like Davy Jones?” she asked. All warmth and cheerfulness disappeared from her face. It was clear that his belittling of the old myths had struck a nerve with her, and whoever she was, Beckett sensed that he was completely in her hands for the moment and therefore, it would be best not cross her. “Der be more to dem myt’s and religions dan you t’ink, Cutler Beckett.” The boat they were traveling in came to an abrupt stop against the riverbank, and Calypso immediately stood up. “Since Davy Jones is no longer at sea, and William Turner is not yet ready for him duty, I must take you to see Hades. Come, him is expecting us,” she said and took hold of Beckett’s arm to help him up. Beckett scrambled to his feet. “Yes of course,” he said. He had no idea how this woman knew his name, or if what she said was anything short of the ramblings of a lunatic. But it was clear he was not in familiar territory and felt it would be best to play along, at least for the time being. Calypso led Beckett away from the boat and through a garden that, against all reason, was lush with greenery, brightly colored flowers and a variety of fruit. Here and there, rock formations jutted from the ground and trickles of molten rock ran from their crevices. These springs of magma appeared to be the only source of light in this cavernous realm, but they were sufficient, casting a muted orange glow onto everything around them. Beckett couldn’t quite decide whether he had gone to his reward or his condemnation. The dark atmosphere and uncomfortable climate did not exactly fit his idea of Heaven, but it was a far cry from the Hell that supposedly awaited non-believers of the Judeo-Christian faith. Certainly, this was something he could tolerate if he must. They continued for a while until they came to a large cliff face with an opening to an inner cavern. It was blocked by heavy iron gates, and as Beckett approached them, a beast roughly the size of a lion lunged at them, causing the gates to shake violently under its weight. Beckett jumped instinctively. It appeared that the gates were sufficient to hold it back, but the beast attacked them with such ferocity, that he was still not comfortable with it. “Down, Cerberus!” a booming male voice commanded from somewhere beyond the gates. Beckett forced himself to take a good look at the beast, and just as its name suggested, the animal had three heads of a canine nature, although it was difficult for him to get anymore detail about them due to the way they kept charging at the iron bars and attempting to rip them off with their massive teeth. Beckett turned to Calypso. “If you think I’m going in there, you’re mad,” he said. Calypso didn’t answer him. She only curled her lips in a devious smile then nodded toward the gate. Beckett didn’t return the smile, but he carefully turned his attention back to the gate, afraid of what he was going to find now. Cerberus was still charging at it, barking and growling viciously while depositing white froth from his jowls onto the bars. But now there was someone else, a man at least twice the size of any normal man walking up behind the dog. “I said get down!” he shouted, while giving the beast a firm swat to his hind quarters. Cerberus yelped, three times, in fact, and moved away from the gate with his tail between his legs. He didn’t move very far before he sat on his haunches and growled menacingly at Beckett, each of his heads taking turns baring its teeth. The man waved a hand at him. “Don’t worry about him. He’s never bitten anyone without my permission,” he said and began unlocking the gate. He opened it wide, but fortunately, the dog was obedient and stayed in his place. Then the man stepped out to meet his guests with a hearty smile that peered out from behind a dark, overgrown beard and moustache. He reached out to Calypso and laid his hands on her shoulders, leaning back to get a good look at her. “Calypso, it’s been a long time! How have you been, Sweetheart? I hear you got yourself into a bit of trouble.” She looked almost bashful before him. “Ah, yes. I had some trouble wit de mortals. But all dat is past now. I’m free to wander de sea.” “Glad to hear it,” he said patting her on the back. “You and I will have to catch up on all that later. I have a feeling you’re here on official business today.” Calypso reached out, grabbed Becket by the arm and tugged him forward so that the man could see him more clearly. The woman’s grip was surprisingly firm and a bit painful. “You know me very well, Hades. I come to bring you Cutler Beckett. Him died at sea, and der was no one else to bring him.” “Oh,” he said and turned to Beckett. “No, I suppose there wouldn’t be. Well, come on in, the two of you. No sense in standing out here in the cold.” “I would love to come,” Calypso said, “but dere are ot’ers who died at sea as well, and I must take dem to deir final places now. I will return once de new captain of de Dutchman take him place.” “I see. Well, that leaves just you and me, then,” Hades said addressing Beckett. “Come on!” He entered the cavern expecting Beckett to follow, but after a few paces, he turned around to see that Beckett hadn’t even crossed the gate. He only stood there staring at Cerberus who continued his menacing stance. “What’s wrong? I told you he wasn’t going to bite.” “All the same,” Beckett explained nervously, “I think I’d rather...” “I don’t think you have a choice in the matter. We agreed on this. Remember our little bargain? Don’t tell me you forgot.” “Bargain?” “Yeah, you forgot. I should have expected it. You mortals have this annoying habit of blocking things out that you don’t like. Let’s see if we can’t refresh your memory. Cerberus!” he shouted and gave a short whistle. The dog jumped up, but instead of pouncing on Beckett as he expected, he ran ahead of them into the cavern with his tail wagging. Hades followed, then Beckett, reluctantly. *** The inside of Hades’s realm was incredibly hot, and the tea that he served did nothing to help that. Beckett used his napkin to remove the perspiration from his brow, since Hades didn’t seem to own a proper handkerchief, and his own accessories were somewhat lacking at the moment. One benefit of the tea, however, was that it seemed to bring back his memory of his last visit here. He was a little excited over the prospect of what awaited him in spite of himself. He attempted to make himself as comfortable as possible while he sat at Hades’s table and discussed his most recent journey through the land of the living. “So, the King of England made you a lord. That’s something, isn’t it?” Hades said while adding a lump of sugar to his tea. He offered one to Beckett, who raised his hand in polite refusal. “Yes, he did. Lord Cutler Beckett.” Beckett smiled proudly at the sound of his own name. “It was roughly ten years after I returned that he did it. As soon as I was able to convince others of my innocence, I went right to work securing trade routes in the East Indies. I was so successful at it, he almost had no choice but to grant me the title. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of British lives were saved because of me.” He took a sip of his tea. “And the others?” Hades asked. “What others?” “Non-British.” “Pirates, most of them, and other miscreants of less civilized cultures,” Beckett explained. “I did away with them for the most part. Sent them back to the devils from which they came.” He snickered a bit, but stopped when he saw that Hades didn’t join. “I’ll bet there were a lot of them,” Hades said. “Oh yes, perhaps more of them than there were of us. But where I couldn’t defeat them with sheer numbers and force, I defeated them with the mind. Men like myself have that advantage, you know.” Hades nodded “So I’ve been told.” He was very interested in all Beckett had to say and seem to be taking mental notes. It made sense, since this was Beckett’s moment to sell himself. “It’s ironic, really,” Beckett continued. “I went from court-martial for gross negligence, and was sentenced to death, no less, to becoming the head of the entire EIC in the span of less than fifteen years. Meanwhile, all Sparrow managed to do was get himself eaten by a giant squid. I’ve always said it’s important to choose your allies wisely.” He gave a nod to Hades. “Sparrow chose unwisely. Serves him right, for the trouble he caused me. It was almost poetic justice when His Majesty sent me to secure the Caribbean trade routes. I finally had an opportunity to repay him for what he had done to me.” “And yet, you’re here, and he’s still there,” Hades pointed out. He reached into to a bowl of fruit on the table and grabbed a pomegranate. The smirk on Beckett’s face fell away. “His days are numbered, I’m sure.” “Oh, I don’t know,” Hades laughed. “I hear he has Sao Feng’s map. It’ll be interesting to see if he finds that Fountain of Youth. Won’t be easy to get to, even if he figures out where it’s at. But I understand he’s a clever one, and persistent if anyone ever was.” Hades ripped his pomegranate in half with his bare hands and sat one half in front of Beckett. When Beckett seemed reluctant to take it, Hades said, “I know what you’re thinking, but you might as well take it. You’re not going back. The only question left now is where you’re going from here.” Beckett took his half and began picking at the seeds, poking one or two of them in his mouth at a time. Hades shook his head at him then bit into his own piece. A small amount of red juice trickled from the corner of his mouth and into his beard, but he didn’t bother to wipe it away. “So tell me,” he said while his mouth was still full, “what else did you do in the Caribbean besides chase after Sparrow? Were you able to get things under control there like you did in the East Indies?” “Not as I had hoped,” Beckett conceded sullenly. He became somewhat pensive for a moment before his former confidence returned. “I may not have abolished piracy completely, but I doubt their breed will survive much longer. It has become nearly impossible for them and their sympathizers to escape the law. Even those common citizens who once saw no harm in sheltering and doing business with them are beginning to see the light. There are now consequences for their actions. Those who still survive have seen this with their own eyes and are breaking all ties with them.” “Survive?” Hades was intrigued. “Unfortunately, yes. We haven’t caught all of them, but those who remain are relatively harmless now that they’ve seen their fellow partners in crime hauled off to the gallows,” he explained. “Yes, I know you didn’t catch all of them. But the ones you did catch, you hanged them? These must have been some dangerous criminals, not merely some common citizens gone astray.” Hades finally dabbed the juice from his mouth. “Are you going to eat that?” he asked while pointing to Beckett’s nearly untouched fruit. “No, be my guest,” Beckett offered while sliding it toward him. “Many of them were. Some of them were killers as vicious as the pirates they accommodated who brutally slayed the innocent in their lust for money and stolen goods. Others simply fraternized and did business with them, knowing good and well what types of people they were dealing with. All that does is encourage more criminal activity, because the pirates see there is profit in it, and there are those who will allow them to get away with it. Take away the pirates’ shelter and means of profit, and they tend to disappear as well.” “So you find it effective to hang people even if they were otherwise good citizens. It seems a little harsh to me.” Hades appeared genuinely confused by this, which concerned Beckett. He hadn’t expected to have to explain such simple concepts to the god of the Underworld. “Not at all,” Beckett assured him. “These people were perfectly aware of what they were doing, and yet they still made their wicked choices. You would be amazed to see how indifferent some of them were to the damage they were doing to society. I remember one woman who was caught coming home from church one Sunday. Staying under her roof was one of the most notorious pirates in the area. He happened to be her son, which says something about her mothering skills in the first place, and her defense was that she didn’t have the heart to turn him away when he asked her for a meal and a place to rest his head. Her son was a known killer, mind you. People died at his hands. And yet, she welcomed him into her home.” Beckett shook his head at the memory of it. “And to think, this woman had the audacity to be angry with my men for coming after her on the Sabbath,” he laughed. “What kind of callous soul will call on the law of God with her words, but blaspheme it with her very deeds? We hanged them side by side. Society will do far better without them, I assure you.” “It’s a shame, I’ll agree,” Hades said while stroking his beard. Then he looked down and noticed that Beckett’s cup was empty. “Would you like some more tea, Mr. Beckett?” he asked. “Thank you, but I believe I’ve had enough,” he declined. “All right, then. I think it’s time to get down to business. Follow me,” Hades said while he stood up from his chair and headed toward a long corridor. Cerberus, who had been sleeping soundly behind his master’s chair, lifted all three of his heads suddenly then became excited and began leaping and prancing as though he had been told they were going for a walk. Beckett was still wary of him, if only because of his size and the potential of being trampled. “Settle down, Cerberus,” Hades said while patting one of his heads. The beast stopped leaping and ran ahead of them. Beckett followed behind. The corridor was narrow and somewhat darker than the rest of the cavern with heavy wooden doors placed every few yards on either side of it. Some displayed massive iron locks, while others looked unsecured. They traveled in silence for a short distance, giving Beckett an opportunity to hear the faint howls and cries of anguish that wafted in from some undisclosed location. They were unsettling noises, but Beckett sensed that Hades was a just being and only those who deserved such a fate received it. “I have to say, Mr. Beckett, you certainly proved yourself this time around,” Hades said after a while. “I saw that you were executed for a crime that wasn’t entirely your fault, and I thought I was giving you some sort of break by sending you to the Elysian Fields. It’s not a bad place, really. People tend to miss their families at first and feel a little displaced due to being a disembodied shade and all, but they get used to it. But that wasn’t good enough for you. You felt you had left a bigger mark on history than that. So I suggested Tartarus.” Hades laughed and turned around to look at Beckett. “You should have seen your face when I said that. I never forgot it. Come up here and walk next to me so I don’t have to keep looking back at you.” Beckett did so reluctantly. The narrow corridor had him nearly shoulder to shoulder with the god, and it made him uncomfortable. “That’s right,” Hades continued, “you thought you had earned yourself passage to a special place. Garden of the Hesperides, is that what they’re calling it in the universities down there?” “Yes, the place of heroes,” Beckett confirmed. “Heroes.” Hades thought about that for a moment. “I suppose it only makes sense that one man’s hero is another man’s villain.” “Of course,” Beckett said. “It all depends which side of good you’re on.” Hades smiled. “Exactly. But at the time, you didn’t seem to me like you were much of a hero or a villain. I just couldn’t see where you had left that kind of mark in the world. But you promised me that if I gave you another chance, you could prove your worth.” He remained silent for a while. “And your conclusion?” Beckett asked. “I’m impressed.” Hades stopped at one of the unsecured doors and opened it. “Come on in. I want you to meet someone.” Beckett entered into a comfortably decorated bedchamber with a fancy writing desk against the back wall. There was a high-back chair in front of it, and Beckett could barely make out the top of the person’s head who was sitting in it. “Hey, Percy. I want you to meet Cutler Beckett. Remember me telling you about him?” The person in the chair stood up and showed herself to be an exceedingly tall woman with long, dark hair and the complexion of white marble. As much as Beckett had always favored a fair skinned woman, even he was a little taken aback by her lack of color. Her features gave her the potential to be otherwise beautiful, but the cold, stern look on her face made her frightening. Her eyes communicated nothing. She gave Beckett a subtle smile as she approached him, but there was no warmth in it whatsoever. In fact, it was almost sinister. “Pleased to finally meet you, Mr. Beckett,” she said without offering a hand. “I am Persephone.” “Likewise,” was all he managed to say. Her very appearance was unsettling enough. To think that she knew who he was made him almost ill. “This is my wife,” Hades explained, “ but I’m sure you already knew that, being an educated man and all. Beautiful, isn’t she?” Beckett smiled and nodded politely. “Sweetheart,” he said to Persephone, “do you have the keys to the other realms? Mister Beckett here is ready to move on now.” Persephone returned to her desk and opened a small drawer. She pulled out a ring of keys and handed them to Hades. “Thanks, I’ll bring them right back,” Hades said and spun the ring a couple of times around his finger before he left the room. There was no need to tell Beckett to follow this time. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Just before he exited the room, he took one last look at Persephone. All she did was stare back at him coldly. Beckett didn’t bother with parting words. He only turned followed Hades out the door. They continued down the corridor a little further. Cerberus already knew where they were headed and was waiting by one of the locked doors. “Now, I want to be clear about this. I already offered you the Elysian Fields, but you don’t want that.” He reached the door where Cerberus had stopped and fit one of the keys into its lock. When he pushed it open he motioned for Beckett to come and take a look. “You’ve definitely proven to me that you deserve more than these guys, but since this was part of our original deal, the option is still open. Are you sure you don’t want to stay here?” Beckett looked inside only to find a dark abyss filled with Smokey clouds that swirled and dipped inside the nothingness. As some of them flew close enough, Beckett thought he could make out human faces in them. The faces were sullen and full of anguish, and once in a while, one would cry out in mourning. “The shades,” Beckett said out loud. He stepped away from the entrance and said to Hades, “I’m quite certain this isn’t where I want to spend eternity.” “Alright, then,” Hades said as he closed and locked the door. Cerberus became excited again and all three of his heads began barking playfully, as though he was expecting Hades to throw a ball for him. Hades patted the beast on the back and said, “No, sorry boy. He doesn’t want to go in there. Let’s move on to the next one.” As though the beast understood exactly what Hades had told him, he ran ahead and stopped at another locked door. This time he began whining and scratching at the bottom as though he was trying to get in. “Stop that!” Hades shouted to him as he approached the door. Cerberus immediately moved away from the door and sat off to the side, but he continued to whine while his tail wagged expectantly. A moment later, Hades had the door opened and motioned for Beckett. “This is Tartarus,” he said, although Beckett had already figured it out. Tartarus was where the howling came from, and quite possibly, the source of the sulfur that Beckett had been smelling. Before he even reached the entrance, he felt intense heat coming from inside. The memory of his final moments among the living flashed through his mind and made him reluctant to look. When he did, he saw shades flying around just like in the last realm, except the faces on these looked genuinely tortured. The source of the heat was a large pool of magma that swirled below them. None of the shades were in contact with it, but the heat that emanated from it was hot enough to burn. “Why are you even showing this to me?” Beckett asked. He was becoming annoyed with this whole game and wanted to move on. “I returned to the land of the living to earn my place among the heroes. You said I’ve succeeded, so all of this is merely a waste of my time.” “I just want to make sure you know your options,” Hades said. “But if you’re so anxious to go, then let’s go. Come on, Cerberus!” Cerberus leaped up on his master and began licking his face. Hades just laughed and gently pushed him back down. Once again, the beast ran ahead and found the next door. This time, he was leaping, prancing and even chased his tail for a moment, until one of the heads caught it and he yelped. The pain was quickly forgotten, though, and he resumed his excitement. Hades waited until Beckett was at his side again and laughed, “I tell you, that dog is something else. Have you ever owned a dog, Mr. Beckett? They do wonders for the soul.” “I have no need for pets.” “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. Shame, though.” They reached the final door at the of the corridor. This one was solid iron, not wooden like the others. Hades slipped the key inside the lock and gave the door a hearty tug. He strained hard to get it open, but once he pulled it back, a grotesque sound emanated from it that immediately brought to Beckett’s mind the image of a thousand wild pigs being torturously slaughtered all at the same time. The smell was what he imagined their corpses would create when left to rot in the sun. The heat that blasted out of there burned his flesh every bit as intensely as the flames that caused his demise, except because he was immortal now, the nerves beneath were not mercifully singed away, allowing the sensation to continue for as long as he stood there. Hades once again motioned for Beckett to approach and have a look, but Beckett didn’t dare come any closer. “What is this?!” he screamed. “This is the Garden of Hesperides, the place of heroes, as you called them. Mighty men, and even a few women, who have made their marks in history, whose effects on mankind will be felt for generations to come, whose names will never be forgotten. People like Attila the Hun, Vlad the Impaler, Bloody Mary, and even your good friend, Davy Jones.” At this, a subtle smirk crept onto his face. “Yes, you have earned your place among the Great and Mighty. Step up and claim your reward.” “But I don’t understand,” Beckett argued. “I dedicated my life to ridding the world of those who had no respect of morals nor laws. I brought order to the seas. I advanced civilization to regions where none existed. Why would I be punished for this?” “Because you did it without love or mercy, and above all, you did it only for your own personal gain,” Hades answered. He was more stern now. His former desire for understanding had vanished, and now he was poised to pass judgment. “Do you realize how many men and women were tortured, lives ruined, loved ones lost, and hearts broken because of you? I can assure you, the damage you inflicted on entire regions far surpasses the damage inflicted by any one of these so-called criminals that you executed.” Although this was the explanation Beckett sought, his mind wasn’t in any condition to be able to comprehend what he had just been told. All he understood was that his work was not acceptable in the eyes of this particular god, and he was about to be punished severely for his deeds. “I won’t accept this judgment from a heathen god!” he told Hades. “I demand to speak to another god, the Almighty God of the Christian Bible! He understands law and order. He created the very Ten Commandments on which we base our civilization. I would like an audience with Him, and if He still thinks I’m an evil man, then let Him send me to Hell.” A loud, hideous laugh bellowed out of Hades. “Hell? You think you’re fit for Hell? Hell is for people with souls, Mr. Beckett. You have no soul!” Beckett stood there only long enough for the words to sink in, then he turned to run but stopped short when he saw Cerberus blocking his path. All three of his heads were snarling and baring their teeth at him. Saliva dripped from his mouths and the hair on his necks and back were standing on edge. One more move, and Beckett had no doubt the beast would pounce on him. He stood there, frozen. “I almost feel bad about doing this,” Hades said. “I have to admit, it wasn’t exactly fair to lead you on the way I did, making you think you were going on to some great reward when you were actually being led to your doom. But the world of the living creates some rather hideous monsters, and it’s my job to make sure that those monsters don’t plague mankind for all of eternity. If you were really as notorious as you claimed to be, I had to make sure I was sending you to the right place. So I hope you’re not taking this personally, Mr. Beckett. I assure you, it’s all just good business...Cerberus, get him!” Cerberus leaped at Beckett, and in an instant the middle head had him clutched tightly in his jaws. The beast shook his head violently, thrashing the helpless man around in such a way that no mortal could have survived, before taking him to the threshold of this final realm and tossing him in. Hades pushed the door closed with all his strength until it finally sealed off the sound and stench behind it. With a final twist of the key the job was finished. “You really didn’t want to do it, did you?” Hades looked up to find Persephone leaning against the corridor wall where she had been watching the whole exchange. She held out her hand for the keys. “You know me too well,” he said. “But I’m telling you, that one had me fooled. He didn’t look all that bad when I first saw him.” He handed the keys back to her. “Pride,” she said coldly. “It will dehumanize a man faster than all the other deadly sins combined. And he reeked of it.” She took Hades’s hand and the two of them walked out of the corridor together with Cerberus following at their heels. It’s a fine line that divides a healthy dose of self-esteem from foolish pride. History is filled with those people who knew they could accomplish something, as well as those who felt they must at all costs. It is the first group who tends to bring us modern marvels, miracles in the face of adversity, and true advancement in the human condition. While the latter group tends to destroy beauty, create adversity, and stifle the human spirit in others. Cutler Beckett became a part of this group when he placed his own greatness ahead of his compassion for those around him. By striving so hard to elevate himself above all others, he unknowingly crossed that fine line between self-esteem and pride, and landed himself in The Twilight Zone.



Alia Atreides	Nov 3 2008, 01:30 AM Post #4
Journeyman Craftswoman Posts: 2,006 Group: Graphics Member #12 Joined: March 14, 2006 Chosen Theme Fan Art Web Browser Iceweasel	Reading this one again a second time, I found that I enjoyed it even more--if that is even possible. Once again--I think it's a brilliant crossover, and captured well the spirit of both the Twilight Zone, and of Pirates of the Caribbean.



pirategirl0306	Nov 3 2008, 08:00 PM Post #5
Navigator Posts: 1,816 Group: Admin Member #78 Joined: March 25, 2006	Both of those were excellent, Lisa. Creepy enough for the Twilight Zone while keeping the characters true to their PotC selves. And I thought it a rather fitting end for Beckett. I may use some of those ideas to inspire my next response to Beckett in the "Ask" thread. Well done!



Monkey	Nov 7 2008, 02:35 AM Post #6
Smuggler Posts: 738 Group: Members Member #251 Joined: October 2, 2006	I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'm busy with another project right now, but I'm sure there will eventually be more.



Alia Atreides	Nov 7 2008, 12:44 PM Post #7
Journeyman Craftswoman Posts: 2,006 Group: Graphics Member #12 Joined: March 14, 2006 Chosen Theme Fan Art Web Browser Iceweasel	Quote: I'm busy with another project right now, but I'm sure there will eventually be more. National Novel Writing Month, aye? We ought to get a little thread going to see if anyone else on Parley is doing it. I signed up...but...have given up already. Too much school work to do it. And other things. But Woot! on having more of them!



Monkey	Nov 7 2008, 07:53 PM Post #8
Smuggler Posts: 738 Group: Members Member #251 Joined: October 2, 2006	Quote: National Novel Writing Month, aye? That's the one! I'm glad you at least signed up for it. That's the first step. Maybe next year you'll take the next step. A thread might not be a bad idea. It might be interesting to see who's doing it and friend each other so we can see how everyone's doing. EDIT: Duh! I guess I should have looked around the site a little before I wrote that.



Monkey	Jan 19 2009, 07:00 AM Post #9
Smuggler Posts: 738 Group: Members Member #251 Joined: October 2, 2006	IN THE BLOOD Jack Sparrow stood on the fo’c’s’le of his ship at dusk and slowly turned a 360 degree rotation while looking through his telescope to see what he could find on the horizon. There was nothing, absolutely nothing except the setting sun blazing in the west, the masts obstructing his view to the southwest, then the entire rest of the circle showed a perfect ocean horizon that was nearly, but not quite, lost to the darkening sky in the east. Most people would think it was a stunning view, one that most landlubbers never had a chance to see. When seen by someone with a natural wanderlust like Jack, it was the very definition of freedom and the excitement of another possible adventure just over the horizon. But tonight, perhaps only because he had allowed the rum to wear off a bit, Jack found that he didn’t feel so much like his adventurous self, and the sight of all this empty ocean became a bit...unnerving. He put down the telescope and shook his head a bit. He was being ridiculous. Hadn’t he seen that exact same view countless times before? There was no reason to be bothered by it this evening. He needed rum. That would solve everything. He collapsed his telescope and dropped it into his coat pocket with the idea that he was going to get some, but before he left, he took one last look at the horizon. There was something about that view that felt familiar, almost like a strong case of deja vu. Except, it wasn’t the sense that he had been there or done that before that made him so uneasy. In fact, for as often as he had sailed these waters, that feeling would almost be expected. It had more to do with a feeling for what would come afterward, even though he had no idea what that might be. It was almost a feeling of dread, and (dare he think it?) fear. Captain Jonathan Sparrow, a successful merchant sailor who, after standing up to the EIC for what he believed was right, lost his ship, his livelihood and his standing with civilized society to become the notorious pirate, Captain Jack Sparrow. He had been trusted by one of the EIC’s top men with a valuable cargo, human cargo, an honor usually saved for the most seasoned and favored merchant captains in the Company. Young Captain Sparrow had an opportunity to rise within the Company’s ranks at an unprecedented rate, but somewhere in the middle of his voyage from San Juan to the Carolinas, he made a decision. It was a decision that would cost him everything and propel his life down a road filled with hardship, treachery, and even a deal with the Devil. Years later, Captain Jack Sparrow would spend many a night over a bottle of rum wondering if he had done the right thing and wondering if, knowing what he knows now, he would have done anything different. Tonight, he will ask himself these same questions as he sails his ship into The Twilight Zone... Jack headed toward his cabin to get himself a bottle of rum, but before he even reached the stairs, Gibbs met him on the fo’c’s’le and stopped him. “Cap’n, I got the men haulin’ water out o’ the bilge again. I think the leak’s gettin’ worse. I’m afraid the ship ain’t gonna hold ‘til we get t’ Bermuda.” “She’ll hold. She’s been through worse,” Jack said as he attempted to walk around him. Gibbs wasn’t so easily ignored and stood in his way. “Aye, but that blow we took near Santiago was a mite close to the waterline, and we don’t have what we need t’ patch her up right,” he argued. “Break down some of those crates,” Jack told him. “We did, and now there’s limes rollin’ all over the hold. That kind o’ wood just ain’t meant to be used fer ship buildin’.” Jack raised his brow. “Limes,” he said plainly. Gibbs ignored the comment. “We shoulda turned back t’ Cuba right after the battle an’ got her fixed. Now we’re half way t’ Bermuda, days away from land in any direction, and she’s takin’ on water. All this ‘cause you insisted on usin’ Bermuda cedar.” “Are you questioning my judgment as captain, Master Gibbs?” Jack’s face was stern. “Ay...No, I jus’ don’t understand why it’s so important t’ have her repaired in Bermuda.” “The Pearl’s a special lady, Mr. Gibbs. We’ve been through a lot together. You know that. I need to take good care of her so she’ll continue to take care of me. Savvy?” Gibbs nodded as though he understood, but his face was heavy with defeat. Even if by some miracle, he could get Jack to admit this was a foolish thing to do, it hardly mattered now. Bermuda was the closest land to their current position, and they would either make it or sink. There was no other option. “I see, Cap’n,” he said and headed back toward the main deck. “Mister Gibbs?” Gibbs stopped and turned around. Jack’s face wasn’t nearly as stern as it had been moments before. In fact, he looked a little concerned now. “What is it, Cap’n?” Gibbs asked. “You’re one who’s keenly aware of signs and omens. Does this night feel odd to you?” “Odd? Like how?” Jack waved his hands around as he tried to come up with something concrete to describe it, but he came up short. “I don’t know. It’s as though something’s...not right.” “Aside from our heading?” Jack frowned at him. It was clear he was worried about something, so Gibbs looked up at the stars that were visible in the early evening sky and stood still for a moment while he checked the wind. Jack stood next to him and looked in the same general direction, but he was looking at something different, the last traces of the horizon before it became almost one with the night sky. “Strange, isn’t it?” Jack whispered after a moment. “No.” “No?” “No. I don’t sense anything outta place, Jack. There’s nothin’, not a ship or an island fer miles, just as there never are in these waters. The stars are all lined up right, we’ve a favorable wind an’ the moon’s nearly full. Aside from that hole in the hull, everything’s just as it should be. Now, I’m goin’ down there t’ help the men rework that patch job we did. You stay here an’... be Cap’n.” Jack didn’t care for Gibbs’s tone, and he certainly didn’t like being given orders by his first mate, even if it was what he wanted to do in the first place. In an effort to assert his captaincy he shouted after Gibbs, “You do that, and make sure they get all the water out of the bilge! Put three, no, four men on it!... And get those limes in a bucket or something!” “Aye, Cap’n,” Gibbs shouted over his shoulder from the main deck and continued below. *** Several hours and a bottle of rum later Jack was nodding off in a chair behind his desk in his cabin. Every few minutes, his head fell forward suddenly and startled him awake, prompting him to decide it was time to get himself to bed, just as soon as he finished plotting a course for the next voyage. But a short time later, his eyes would close, his breath would get shallow again, and the whole process would start over. This continued for a while until finally, something new woke him up. There was some sort of commotion going on with his crew outside. Jack jumped up and grabbed his coat to go out and investigate. What on earth could they be shouting about all the way out in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean in calm weather? Just as he was ready to open the door, Gibbs pounded on the outside and shouted, “Captain! We’ve discovered a ship!” Jack opened the door. “A ship, you say?” “Aye, ship! We seen her lights out there on the water. It’s as if she came outta nowhere, Jack. One minute, ‘twas nothin’ but the night sky an’ open sea. Next minute, there she was, plain as day. The men think she musta seen us first and been hidin’ with her lamps out, but I don’t know. I’m tryin’ t’ figure what made her light ‘em up again. Somethin’s not right ‘bout this.” Jack gave Gibbs a smug, I told you so, grin and went out on deck with his telescope. Just as Gibbs had described, there was another ship on the water. It was difficult to tell at that distance just by her silhouette against the moonlight and the placement of the lamps, but he suspected it was a ship roughly the size of the Black Pearl. He considered it for a moment then told Gibbs, “Go after her and prepare to board. We’ll fire a shot across the bow, and hopefully, she’ll surrender. Likely as not, it’s one of those slave ships on its way to the Carolinas with little of value on it for us. But if nothing else, we might get some decent planks for this ship that’ll get us to Bermuda.” Immediately, Gibbs shouted orders to the crew and they changed their heading slightly to meet up with the newly discovered vessel. As the Pearl moved in closer and her intent became obvious, the other ship changed course and pulled out the sweeps. Jack smiled and turned to Gibbs. “They’re going to try to outrun us. They’ve no idea they’re being chased by the fastest ship in the Caribbean. A vessel that big, I’ll bet she’s loaded. We’ll overtake her in no time.” But the chase lasted much longer than Jack expected. Both vessels were sailing at full speed, but the space between them was barely closing. After what seemed like forever, the Pearl managed to get close enough to fire an effective warning shot. “Fire cannon!” Jack shouted, and it was done. Jack waited for the other ship to stop running and raise a white flag, but instead, she kept on her current course and never even slowed down. “Silly buggers still think they can outrun us,” he said to Gibbs. “That captain must be out of his head.” “Do you think they plan t’ fight us?” Gibbs asked. “If they did, I’d think they’d have shot back by now. Hoist the Roger and we’ll try again.” They moved in closer and fired another shot. This time, the other ship stopped within a few minutes, and the white flag was up. “Alright men, close in and board her!” Jack shouted to his crew. As the Pearl caught up to the surrendering ship, her details became more visible under the moonlight. Jack could see that she was a galleon just like his own, right down to shape of the windows in the captain’s quarters. The only major difference Jack could see from where he stood was that this ship was richly decorated with dark and light stained woods, instead of the solid black wood that made up the Pearl. That, and she flew the ensign of the EIC. The similarities between the two were so striking, it was likely that the ships were made by the same builder, and therefore, this ship would also be made with Bermuda cedar. Perfect. The ships lined up next to each other and Jack boarded with his crew to find the other captain and crew waiting for them. He was about to announce his arrival, when the captain of the surrendering crew spoke up first. “We’ve waved a flag of truce, but I’ll have you know, if you go back on your word, we’re ready to fight. I highly recommend that you and your men return to your own ship and leave us be. We hold nothing of value to your kind here, only human cargo, and if we or any of this cargo are harmed, you’ll have the weight of the Company bearing down on your heads.” Jack could see the captain standing a few feet in front of him, but the moon was shining from behind, and he couldn’t make out his face in the night shadows. This put him at a disadvantage, because he wanted to read his eyes. Obviously, he was dealing with a strong captain, but that was all he could ascertain, making it all the more important that Jack didn’t give away anything in his own eyes. He gave a cold smile and said, “Strong words coming from a captain whose ship has just been boarded by the crew of the infamous Black Pearl.” The surrendering crew looked at each other and some started murmuring. Jack gave them a moment to allow the realization to sink in. “Infamous, you say?” the captain responded. “I’ve never heard of it. Tell us what you want with us so we can be on our way. I’m a busy captain and don’t have time for this tomfoolery.” Jack had initially admired the captain’s boldness, but now it began to irritate him. What sort of merchant captain would refer to a pirate attack as “tomfoolery?” But what bothered him even more was the familiarity in his voice and even his words, and... Jack looked around the vessel and noticed that the similarities between the ships became even more apparent now that he was standing on the deck. His heart jumped in his chest as an absurd thought came to his mind. “Is something wrong, Captain?” the surrendering captain asked. “I’ll ask the questions here!” Jack shouted. “Give us your name and the name of this vessel!” “The name is Captain Jonathan Sparrow, and you are standing aboard the Wicked Wench,” he said coolly. “Now, might we have the same courtesy? What shall I call you, Captain?” A few stifled laughs and more murmuring fell over Captain Jonathan’s crew, but he raised his hand and it was stopped immediately. “I’m, er, my name is Captain Jack Sss... Jack. My name is Captain Jack,” he stammered. Jack was well aware that he was losing control of the situation. He made it a point not to look at his men, because he feared their reaction to this unusually strange behavior, even for him. Instead, he decided to get to the bottom of this once and for all. He approached Captain Jonathan, who stepped back and reached for his pistol before he realized that Jack didn’t intend to fight him, and snatched his tricorn hat from his head. What the moonlight revealed was a young man, roughly fifteen years his minor, with long, thick, dark hair tied back into a single braid, and a moustache and beard that was trimmed close to his chin. There was no kohl under his eyes, but apart from that, the man’s face was a spitting image of himself. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, and while Jonathan was clearly irritated with Jack for coming at him and removing his hat, Jack’s face revealed only disbelief. “Are you some sort of lunatic?” Jonathan asked. “Give me my hat!” He snatched it back and straightened it out before placing it back on his head. Jack didn’t resist. He only backed away slowly, never quite taking his eyes off of Jonathan until he reached Gibbs. He grabbed him by his vest, moved in close and nearly whispered, “Get some men to secure this ship, then meet me in me cabin.” “Jack, are you alright? What’s gotten int’ you?” “I need rum,” was all he said and returned to his ship and his cabin. *** It wasn’t long before Gibbs came knocking at his door again. “Come in,” Jack shouted and took a long pull from his bottle of rum. Gibbs came inside and found Jack sitting behind his desk looking visibly shaken. “What was that all about, Jack?” he asked as he found a chair and took a seat on the other side of it. “What got you so shaken’ you couldn’t even remember yer own name?” “I remember me name!” Jack shouted and took another drink from the bottle. “Obviously, you didn’t hear his name. Jonathan Sparrow, Mr. Gibbs. His name was Captain Jonathan Sparrow!” Gibbs stroked his beard and thought about that for a moment. “Come t’ think of it, the man does look a bit like you. Do you think he’s yer brother or somethin’? One o’ Teague’s kids? Nah, then he’d be Jonathan Teague...” “It’s me, you simple-minded goat!” Jack didn’t usually lose his temper so easily with Gibbs, but he had no patience at this point. Gibbs looked at him as though he had lost his mind (which he wasn’t entirely sure that he hadn’t), so he went on. “I told you about me past, didn’t I? My given name? The Black Pearl’s name? Don’t tell me you forgot, what with all the stories you’ve told.” “Aye you told me, but you made me promise never t’ tell those stories. You told me t’ ferget about ‘em, so I did. Hadn’t thought of ‘em in years. Now that you mention it, it’s a coincidence, alright, but I jus’ didn’t put it all t’gether ‘til now. Wasn’t thinkin’ ‘bout it t’ be honest. Yer not sayin’ we’ve done some sorta time travel are you? ‘Cause that jus’ don’t make any sense, Jack. It’s not possible.” Jack was listening to Gibbs, but only barely. He knew how crazy he sounded, but he also knew what he had seen and heard. He stared off into the distance while Gibbs spoke, biting on a nail and trying to think of some other explanation, but none came. When Gibbs finally finished, he took another drink of rum and said, “The last cargo I carried as a merchant captain was a shipment of slaves from San Juan to Charles Towne. Seemed like a good opportunity at the time.” Jack gave a nervous laugh. “You should have seen the looks on some of the senior captain’s faces when they learned Beckett gave the route to me. Just pick them up in San Juan, take them across to Charles Towne, and bring home the wealth. That was all.” He shook his head and paused for a moment before looking at Gibbs with a seriousness Gibbs hadn’t seen in his face in a long time. “I couldn’t do it, Josh. The cries, the rank, the sickness and death, the knot in the pit of me own stomach. I couldn’t do it. We made a stop in Florida and with the help of Tia Dalma and some of me closest men, we staged a slave revolt and I set them free. Might have worked too, had one of the men not turned me in. Taught me a lesson about trusting others, I’ll tell you that much.” He took another drink from the bottle. Gibbs felt for him, knowing that Jack had carried that burden with him for a long time, but now he feared it had finally sent him over the edge. “Jack, you have t’ realize there’s slave ships goin’ along this route all the time. It don’t mean it’s you an’ yer ship from years past. Don’t you realize what yer sayin’? “But his name, the ship’s name. I’m saying either it’s me, or it’s a huge coincidence. Which is more likely?” Gibbs raised his brow at him Jack sighed. “You’re right. I sound like a mad man, but there was something else, too. We were boarded by this pirate crew on the way to the Carolinas. I don’t recall what they wanted after all these years and all that happened just afterward, but it was something simple and benign. We gave it to them and were on our way. I had nearly forgotten about it until now, but it happened much like it happened tonight. Josh, if that’s me over there, I can’t allow him do what he’s about to do. He must deliver those slaves.” Jack’s voice was urgent and almost pleading, but Gibbs’s expression hadn’t changed. Jack looked down at his desk, and with another heavy sigh, he said, “Alright, bring Captain Jonathan to me so I can tell him what we need and figure out once and for all what’s going on here. But I want you to look at him, and look at his ship. See for yourself if it doesn’t look like me and the Black Pearl.” “I’ll look,” Gibbs agreed. “Meanwhile, I want you t’ put that rum away. It might be part o’ yer problem.” “Since when?” Jack said before taking another swallow. Gibbs rolled his eyes and left to bring back Captain Jonathan Sparrow. He found him sitting bound on the Wicked Wench’s deck with his crew while some of Jack’s crew held their pistols on them. “Cap’n Sparrow,” Gibbs called out, “our cap’n wants t’ see you now.” Jonathan looked up at Gibbs and grinned. He didn’t flash any golden teeth, but the smile was otherwise eerily familiar. “You mean, Captain J-J-Jack?” he asked. His crew broke into laughter until Jack’s men waved their pistols at them. Gibbs reached down, grabbed Jonathan roughly by the arm and pulled him to his feet. Jonathan was clearly offended by the manhandling, but he didn’t resist. He followed Gibbs across the gangplank, onto the Black Pearl and to Jack’s cabin door where Gibbs began cutting the ropes from around his wrists. Meanwhile, Jonathan looked around at his captor’s ship. “What sort of ship is this?” he asked Gibbs. “She’s a galleon,” Gibbs said, “much like yer own.” “I’ll say she is.” Once Gibbs finished cutting the ropes, Jonathan reached out a hand and ran it across some of the woodwork, but he didn’t say anymore. Gibbs opened the door and led Jonathan inside. “Here he is, Cap’n.” “Thank you, Mr. Gibbs. Leave us, now, if you will,” Jack said. “But Jack...” Not only was it unsafe to leave the captain alone in his cabin with his prisoner even under normal circumstances, but Gibbs wasn’t all that comfortable with Jack’s state of mind. “I said leave us, Mr. Gibbs. I’ll let you know when you’re needed again.” Gibbs didn’t argue anymore. He left the cabin and closed the door behind him, leaving Jonathan standing in the middle of the room and looking around the place as though he was trying to make sense of it. “Have a seat, Captain Sparrow,” Jack said as he pointed to the chair that Gibbs had been sitting in. When Jonathan took a seat, Jack asked, “What do you think of me ship? Stunning, isn’t she?” In spite of being in enemy territory, Jonathan didn’t seem too concerned about sitting alone in a room with his captor. He was clearly distracted by his surroundings. He nodded slightly but didn’t say anything or even look at Jack. “Captain Sparrow!” Jack shouted. “I will not be ignored on me own ship!” Jonathan jumped and turned to Jack. “My apologies, Captain Jack, but I was just noticing how much your cabin looked like me own, absent the, uh,” he waved his hands a bit, “clutter.” Jack wouldn’t have taken offense to that in any case, much less now while he was more interested in this man who sat across from him than anyone’s opinion of his housekeeping. He took a moment to study his face. At first, Jonathan stared back as though he expected Jack to say something, but after a while, he started looking more closely at Jack as well, making the moment last a little longer than it should have. As much as Jack wanted to ask him personal questions, questions that would settle this matter once and for all, he didn’t want to look like a fool in front of this man again. He had done enough of that already. Instead, he got straight to business. “I’m sure it’s no surprise to you that we didn’t stop your ship for your cargo,” Jack began. “Why, no it’s not. It’s a surprise to me that you’ve stopped me ship at all,” Jonathan interrupted. “Silence, Captain Sparrow!” Jonathan pressed his lips together and gave him a pious look. Jack’s face twitched at his obvious insincerity, but he knew better than to draw attention to it. “I’m going make this simple. My ship has a hole in the hull and she’s taking on too much water. We’ve been able to patch her up using crates, but...” He paused when Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “I know, but it’s all we had at the time,” he continued. “I stopped your ship, because I was hoping you had some spare planks or timber that we could use to get her to Bermuda. If you will grant us that, we’ll repair our ship, and leave you and your men to your business unscathed.” “And if we don’t?” Jonathan replied. Normally, Jack would be surprised by this man’s gall. Most merchant captains would be letting out a sigh of relief just then, glad that all these pirates wanted was some timber and they would be on their way. But the longer Jack sat and talked with Jonathan, the more the memory of this exact conversation from so many years ago came to mind. A knowing smile came to Jack’s face. Jonathan was thrown off a little by it, since he didn’t have Jack’s advantage. His look was smug, but Jack saw the discomfort in his own eyes. “You wouldn’t want to allow a fellow captain and his crew to drown at sea because you were too spiteful to give them what they needed, now would you?” Jack asked. Now it was Jonathan’s turn to twitch, but he recovered quickly and started examining his nails. “You’re all a bunch of pirates. Why should I care?” he said. “Because you’ve got a bit of pirate in you too,” Jack said. Jonathan looked up, alarmed. “That would be slander, my dear friend. I have no such thing.” Jack leaned closer to Jonathan and stared hard at him from across the desk. “Who’s your father, Jackie?” Jonathans eyes shifted and he bit his bottom lip a little before he asked, “We’re related, aren’t we? Otherwise, how would you know?” “Know what? “Who me father is.” Jonathan looked at Jack again. “I saw a resemblance between us from the moment you boarded me ship. Who’s you’re father.” “I don’t know me father,” Jack lied. “And as before, I’ll be the one asking questions here, not you.” Jonathan brought his hands up in mock submission, but Jack had had enough of his own antics. He stood up abruptly and slammed his hands down on the desk. “Stop playing games Jonathan! I don’t think you understand the seriousness of all of this.” Suddenly, the pretenses were gone, and Jonathan was as serious as Jack. “I think I do. I’ll get you your timber, Captain Jack. You’re right, me conscience won’t allow me to let your men drown. Now, may I go back to me ship so that I may give orders to bring the planks aboard?” It was obvious that Jonathan didn’t understand. How could he? He had no way of knowing what Jack knew. Not yet. He tried to calm himself down a bit while he decided how he was going to explain all of this to his younger self without completely giving everything away. That would only convince Jonathan even more that he was crazy. He sat down in his chair again and rested his head in his hands while looking down at the desk in front of him. “Your conscience,” Jack began slowly without looking up. “You must be careful of your conscience. It can lead you to make foolish decisions, ones that will plague you more doggedly than any guilt you may harbor in your soul. You must learn to put it away.” He looked up at Jonathan again to see what he was making of this. Jonathan thought about the words for a moment before he spoke. “Are you saying you don’t want the planks?” Jack moaned and dropped his head down on the desk. “My apologies, Captain Jack, but I don’t see where you’re going with this.” “The slaves, Jonathan! The slaves must go to Charles Towne, or else...” Jack stopped. “Or else what?” “Or else you’ll be no more than a bloody pirate, just like me.” Jack looked up. “And you don’t want that?” asked Jonathan. “Only a moment ago, you said it was in me blood.” Jack didn’t answer him. He only stared across the room as something had just occurred to him. Meanwhile, something had occurred to Jonathan as well. “Hold on there,” he said, “how do the slaves figure into all of this? What makes you think they’re not going to Charles Towne?” “Because you have a conscience, Captain Sparrow,” Jack said as he finally broke away from his thoughts and met eyes with Jonathan again. “And pirate is in your blood.” He nodded his head slowly as he began to understand, and a slow smirk spread across his face. “Someday, you’ll square with that, but not for a long time. Oh, you’ll tell yourself that you have, but you won’t. Not for many years.” Jonathan looked at him skeptically. “Riiight,” he said. “May I go back to me ship now?” “Yes, Captain Sparrow, you may.” Jack stood up and walked Jonathan to the door. “Mister Gibbs!” he called out when he opened it. Gibbs was already standing nearby in case anything happened. “Escort Captain Sparrow back to his ship. He has graciously offered to send some of his men with some planks for repairs.” “Right this way, Cap’n Sparrow,” Gibbs said and led Jonathan away. *** It didn’t take long before Captain Jonathan had several of the slaves moving planks onto the Black Pearl. While his crew was certainly able bodied and willing to do the job, Jack knew that the reason he chose the slaves was to give them an opportunity to move around and stretch their limbs. The journey had been a horrific one for them, and from the moment he realized how understated the ghastly stories about the slave ships had been, he did all he could to make it better. (Albeit it, there wasn’t much he could do with so many bodies packed into such a small space.) The longer Jack stood on the deck of his ship and watched the weary, demoralized men moving back and forth with the planks, and some of their women and children taking this precious opportunity to wander around the deck of the Wicked Wench, the more certain he was that he had made the right choice all those years ago. One woman in particular caught Jack’s eye as she moved around the deck of the Wicked Wench. She was the only one who spoke English well enough for Jonathan to communicate with, and she was the one who the others seemed to trust and go to with their needs, so she was designated as his liaison between them. She would befriend Jonathan, and together, they would plan the great escape. He watched her as she used her authority to organize the movement of the planks between the ships and decide whose turn it was to go above deck for some much needed air and exercise. For a long while, she seemed oblivious to him watching her, but when the men had nearly completed their task, she suddenly looked up and saw Jack. She flashed one of her wide, flirtatious grins as it became obvious that she knew who he was. She headed toward the gangplank to board the Pearl while Jack waited at the other end for her to arrive. “Tia Dalma, you’re as lovely as I remember,” Jack greeted her as she stepped aboard. Tia Dalma never broke her smile as she looked him over from head to toe, then she picked up one of his dreads and ran her fingers across it. “T’ank you, Jack. You don’ look bad, youself,” she said as she let go of his hair and proceeded to slide her hand seductively down his chest. Jack wasn’t quite sure what she had in mind, but he certainly wasn’t going to object, that was, until her hand reached his belt, then suddenly grabbed his compass and pulled it off. “Oy! What are you doing with that?” he asked while unsuccessfully tryin to take it back. “You remember when I give dis to you? It was before we left de ship in Florida, for de help you give us,” she reminded him. “I need it back now, so I can give it to him.” “You mean, you got that from me?” Jack asked, genuinely confused. “You didn’t already have it?” “Yes, I got it from you.” Jack thought about it for a moment. “But I got it from you.” “Yes, you did.” “Wouldn’t that make it one of those para...paradigm...para...” Jack couldn’t recall the word. “Paradox.” “Yes, a paradox! Wouldn’t that make this a paradox?” Tia Dalma shook her head sympathetically, “You mortals have such finite min’s. Everyt’ing is connected, Jack. Not’ing happen by accident.” She touched his cheek, then turned to leave, taking the compass with her, but Jack placed his hand on her shoulder before she went too far. Tia Dalma looked back at him curiously. Jack seemed a little sullen as he looked her in the eye and said, “Take care of him, now. He’s going to need your help.” Tia Dalma placed her hand over his. “You know I will, Jack Sparrow.” She gave him one last smile and returned to the Wicked Wench as Jack watched, knowing what Captain Jonathan Sparrow had yet to endure, but resolving to let it be. It was St. Augustine who pointed out that men will go abroad to wonder at just about anything from the height of mountains, to the compass of the ocean, to the motion of the stars, but they will pass by themselves without wondering at all. Jack Sparrow was the exception to this rule. He passed by himself one night as he crossed the same stretch of ocean he had crossed so many years ago, but instead of continuing on his way, he stopped to wonder, and in doing so, made a useful discovery that he would carry with him for the rest of his life. Of all the changes that had taken place in his life, there was one constant. That was himself. As long as he knows himself and is comfortable with who he is, he can contend with anything life sets before him, even if that thing is The Twilight Zone.



Alia Atreides	Jan 19 2009, 05:53 PM Post #10
Journeyman Craftswoman Posts: 2,006 Group: Graphics Member #12 Joined: March 14, 2006 Chosen Theme Fan Art Web Browser Iceweasel	Monkey, you must be Rod Serling, I think that's the only conclusion I can come to after this. I love how it was written. Pure win. And the whole paradox, and Jack Sparrow in effect aiding himself (being the source of compass), is quite awesome. I loved the bit where he was talking with himself in the cabin, and you mentioned that bit that his memories of it became clearer as they occurred--because it hadn't happened just quite yet! Sorta speaking. Anyway I loved it. And I like it when authors take the approach that time is fixed and regardless of what you do it's going to turn out in a set way. Wonderful story (as always)!



Monkey	Jan 19 2009, 08:17 PM Post #11
Smuggler Posts: 738 Group: Members Member #251 Joined: October 2, 2006	I'm glad you liked it. No, I'm not Rod Serling, just a fan of this sort of genre (even moreso than the man, himself). Everytime I write one of these I think it's more difficult than the last, but that just may be because the other ones are finished and I'm still wracking my brains over this one. But I did have to be careful this time about making sure all the details worked, since I was writing about time travel, in a sense. And also, I based it on a version of Jack's past that I know many people have heard about, but not everyone. So I had to fit some of that exposition in there too, without interrupting the story. I think these are fun to write, though, so I'll probably end up with a whole series of these before long.


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