Legends of the Treasure Child : Demon Spawn

The scent of the Black Pearl led John straight past the strait of Gibraltar, and onwards into the Mediterranean. It became evident to John that he was in fact retracing his own journey, and Jack had been attempting to find him.

Being practical about it, which was usually one of Jack Sparrow’s better vices, was getting increasingly difficult. Keep breathing, that’s the key. He wished there could be some rum around to help ease the pain. There was but one comfort: Sooner or later, the Thyrion would smell that Jack had conceived, and then it would be all over. Until next time. Next time? And then what? Another, and then again another? Good God, there had to be some kind of solution to this madness!

How funny, Jack thought to himself while lying huddled in fetal position, just breathing and trying for the love of god to relax away the pain, to be one with it –so funny, that he spent all of his time on The Pearl trying to forget about the Thyrion when he should be trying to be constructive about it instead, like he was now, when there was nowhere out. But what else was there, Jackie boy? The only reason he got to lie around right now, was because the Thyrion recognized the need for peace and quiet for his sperm to work its way upwards and inside Jack’s belly. If Jack tried to move, the Thyrion was all over him instantly, and the pain would simply well up in his arse again as the pirate captain would be impaled on the nearly fifty centimeter long erection. It was as thick as a grown man’s fist, and possibly perfection of the image any horny whore would long for in a wet dream but inclined to turn down in real life simply because of the difference of proportion. Like trying to stuff a tree trunk into the hole of a water melon. There was one question – one practical detail about the Thyrion’s grand plan for Hell domination which Jack didn’t quite get to fit: If the Thyrion wanted an army, then this was certainly a slow and very little economical way of doing so. Breeding an army with Jack would take ages, possibly eons. Was he the only one? Were there others? Wouldn’t it be more effective to have a, uhm, harem, or something?

The need to empty his rectum was becoming increasingly persistent, but that meant moving, and then the Thyrion would leap at him again. Jack shot the demon an obstinate glance, hoping the giant spiderlike bundle of evil would drop dead. The demon was squatting just meters away from him, his erection jutting out like the defensive spear armament of a fortress. The black wings, thick with lush silky smooth feathers was folded behind his back, and in the gloom of the naked fire the demon’s silky black hair melted into the wings, making it difficult to tell apart hair from feather. In all, the demon was a dreamy image of the perfect lover of any wicked wench, witch or wretch discontented with her love life. Jack’s heart was festering with so much anger and hatred for this demon before him that he had to dig his fingernails into the rotten wood boards as not to hurl himself at the apparition, doing something he’d regret. He hated the loss of his freedom, he hated the loss of control of his body – he hated being reduced to an object, he hated not to be listened to and he hated being hurt and defiled like this. He was lying on his stomach, breathing hard, all kinds of thoughts running through his mind, for he could not sit. His rectum was torn and swollen, and the insides of his thighs and his buttocks were colored in blood and excrement. He hated the demon for telling him that the twins had already grown and flown from the nest, that they took off the instant the Thyrion first impaled Jack with his erection. Jack hated it, because if it was the truth, then the Thyrion had just robbed him of the twins and their childhood as well. He’d never see them grow up, would never get to watch them find their way and wonder what they’d become. His babies had died and been replaced by grown demons!

Jack had to empty himself, he had no choice. He sat up as quickly as he could, and dragged himself two paces away. Not before had he managed to collect his feet into a squatting position before his damaged rectum took charge. The relief was pure bliss mixed with complete numbness. Jack had next to no control of his muscles. No sooner had he begun to move, before the Thyrion did the same, approaching Jack. He gave Jack no quarter, seizing the pirate by the neck. He dragged Jack with him out on the floor which had so many times become the scene of several rapes, and Jack could but leave a trail of brownish-red excrement as he fought for oxygen. When he was finally released, his vision was filled with stars and black spots, and he closed his eyes, fighting the Thyrion blindly, hitting aimlessly in the air, feeling the sharp pain of claws digging into his hips as he was pushed onto his stomach like a rag doll. He felt his thighs being pushed aside, his buttocks parted, and then the muscles of his rectum gave way to that immense object of Jack’s deepest hatred. For some reason, Jack began to think about John and the book he’d been talking about. It was hilarious that in the midst of the horror he was being put through, Jack’s thoughts went in pursuit of a book. A bloody book! A shot of pain sprang up in his rectum, and Jack screamed at the top of his lungs.

*Music in my ears, little slave, sing some more for me!*

The Thyrion’s voice resounded wickedly in Jack’s head. Jack sobbed out his pain as the demon once again found a nerve inside Jack, a tell tale sign he was thrusting so hard Jack’s intestines was feeling the strain as it was not designed to be filled by something so big. The demon suddenly stopped but did not withdraw. He pulled at Jack’s hair, forcing the pirate’s head backwards in a painfully strained position.

*The lovely smell of offspring in your belly!* the demon’s voice rang through Jack’s head. *And I was having such fun with your wretched hide!* the demon spoke again with regret in his voice. He pulled out of Jack so swiftly it hurt like a thousand razorblades. The demon then roared loudly, and Jack recognized it as a triumphant one, the demon displaying his superiority and achievement. Jack glanced up, and immediately saw the place of the circular room where the demon had bitten of Jack’s penis, the last time he had been taken.

*Now, you may rest.* No sooner had the demon spoken those words before he took off out through the damaged window, leaving Jack all by himself. Despite the pain, Jack had no intention of lying around. Resting was not an issue, he was not staying a second longer than necessary. He made his way over to the window, and hauled himself to his feet, gazing out at the clear twilight sky. The air was cool on his skin, and Jack’s breath was a faint frosty smoke. Winter was coming. He gazed downwards to the ground directly below. Several hundred meters with no sign of a staircase or foothold. He could hardly see the dark rocks waiting at the foot of the tower. He did however see his future bright and clear; A future littered with one rape after the other followed by meaningless pregnancies and childbirths. The Black Pearl and his dream of fame and immortality was but a faint ghost on the distant waters he saw reflecting in the moonlight.

If he could not have his dream, what else was there to live for?!

As he looked down next, he realized he was looking at a man in a white robe. He was gleaming, his hands out wide from his body raised in prayer, and his face was a light, haloed by floating golden hair. The man did not speak, but his voice was a whisper on the breeze: “Don’t be afraid, Jack. I’ll catch you. Come to me, my love.”

Salvation. Jack felt it beckon all of him. With one last effort his climbed up into the window. There was no doubt in his clouded, pain-wrapped mind. The person below was wrapped in love and…uhm, something else, a voice in Jack’s head told him. Aye, Jack said to himself as he climbed on the outside of the window, somethin’ else, like desire. Desire. Didn’t we just go through all that? The voice in the back of Jack’s head screamed. You know?! Desire? Pain? Lust? Torture? Rape?! We don’t wanna be doin’ tha’ again now, do we Jackie boy?! Jack had to stop. He turned his head to gaze downwards, and what he saw made him slip on his footing. A burst of strength gave him what he needed to get back over the bricks of the window. He fell inside with a heavy thump, but didn’t wait to get crawling across the floor towards the other exit. Jack’s face was naked with fear, grimed with blood, sweat and dirt, and he crawled as fast as he could on bloodied, raw knees. Upon reaching the gaping hole where the staircase had once been, he turned to stare at the hideous thing which had reached the window.

There was no mistaking its intention: If it got hold of Jack, it would certainly not let go until he’d been dragged good and solid down into Hell. The only other option available seemed to be for Jack to throw himself down into the hole, hoping for the best, or that he broke his neck on impact. Not thinking anymore about it, he dragged himself out on the edge as fast as he could. Quite against his intentions, his life began to pass in fast forward mode. Jack had always had the notion of going down fighting, but upon facing this creature, running into his death seemed like quite an agreeable finish as well. He couldn’t have begun to describe it even he’d tried to, and it induced him with more fear than The Kraken ever did. He watched the gaping hole in the floor diminish as he swiftly fell downwards into cold darkness. Then there was a commotion followed by a series of snarls and growls, and Jack realized the thing had company. With a little luck it would be the thing and the Thyrion clashing together, killing each other in the process. But when had Jack had any luck lately? His fall downwards abruptly came to a halt as something with heavy beating wings intercepted him. The descent became controlled, until Jack could feel his weary feet touch rocky ground. He looked up, immediately looking into a pair of shimmering golden eyes.

"Dad? Are you all right?!" Jack head John's concerned voice whispering, panting from the effort of the flight.

"I would very much like a bottle of rum now, if ye please. Me babies..." Jack's voice failed him. He just wanted to lie down and rest, not caring where that was at the moment.

"I'm sure they're fine, Dad. Come now, let's get out of here while they're busy fighting each other."

"What was that thing?!" Jack wondered, stumbling out into the pale moonlight, supporting most of his weight on John. Seldom had he been so glad to see his demon offspring.

"Lucifer.”

“I could have sworn that he looked—“

“—just like an angel at first, aye. He’s quite attractive as long as he’s mentally stable” John sighed, before taking a deep breath, “but that’s also where his charm ends.” He looked his father deep in the eye, seeing the mental abuse, the weariness and the physical pain Jack had endured; All of it. For a moment, he pressed his lips against those of his father’s, and he kissed them time and time again, trying to kiss away the madness that frail-bodied pirate whom he loved higher than himself, had endured. His persistence made Jack pull away. He excused himself, whispering: “I’m really not in for anything bearing the slightest resemblance to lovemaking, right now.”

“That’s all right, Dad, I mean, I wasn’t going to. You’ve no idea of how sorry I am for leaving you” John said, his lips nearly touching Jack’s again.

“Just get me out of here, would ye me lad?”

John part flew, part carried Jack down the steps chiseled out from the mountain side. His greatest concern was that Jack would freeze to death in the cold autumn air, so he tried to stay as close to ground level as possible, where the air would be the warmest. The fighters in the castle soon enough discovered that Jack was gone, and the Thyrion had no doubt picked up the scent of both him and John. It didn’t take long before both demons had them surrounded.

The Thyrion did his best to force the couple to the ground all the while fending off Lucifer. He knew, just as John knew, that if he removed John from Jack’s side, then Lucifer would snatch Jack right away. John was strong enough to take on Lucifer all by himself, so he didn’t worry about that. But he had to be first to get Jack, and that made it more complicated. Then something happened which made them all come to an abrupt halt. The Thyrion got unexpected help as two full grown half-demons appeared from thin air, bolting right at Lucifer. Their wings shone of mother-of-pearl, and they were clad in silvery breastplates and long flowing robes. They were armed with spear and shield each, and their longish, dark brown hair billowed like a halo around their faces which were designed with unmistakable Sparrow-features. Their dark brown eyes shone with condemnation and dislike. Daniel Sparrow pointed his spear at Lucifer, and a beam of heavenly lightning lashed out at the demon lord, striking his torso dead on. The impact sent the dark lord reeling out into the dark air. Jack had to stop and look at them for a moment, taking in the painful realization of what his babies had grown into. It caused a temporarily separation from John under less than a second, but it was enough for the Thyrion to set in a crucial blow to John’s right shoulder. John screamed as the pain seared through his arm, and when he came to and opened his eyes searching for Jack, he saw the Thyrion fleeing off with his prey.
It looked like Lucifer was growing tired with not managing to retaliate against the sparrows. They were simply too fast for the large and fairly cumbersome shape he’d chosen, and they avoided his blows with elegance and ease. John decided to take off in pursuit of Jack. The trail led him through a dimensional portal leading to sombre desert decorated by ancient, abandoned ruins. Again, a deteriorated castle. Saieros obviously had a thing for castles. Bugger. Searching through these things took time. Precious time.

Jack was too tired, too cold and exhausted to fight back when the Thyrion produced the nightmarish mask which Jack had barely been acquainted with back on The Pearl. Now, the Thyrion wrapped it on his face triumphantly before he sealed it on the back of Jack’s head by attaching a chain to it. The chain was then anchored to the stony throne which was placed in one end of the once great court room. Now, it was merely a cold, barren tomb of decaying limestone which drew every shred of warmth out of absolutely anything it was in touch with.

The Thyrion could not help himself. He had to touch Jack. His clawed fingernails caressed the skin on his thighs, on the shivering belly which spoke promises of growth again. He let his palm slide upwards, across Jack’s nipples, earning himself a whimper from the exhausted pirate. Oh yes, this frail creature was definitely a prize worth fighting for. Why sport a harem which would give him soldiers worth only as cannon fodder, when he could hold but one mortal who was capable of producing one warlord or more, every single time?! The mask told everyone that the bearer was of importance to the Thyrion. The bearer was special, with extraordinary capabilities. It was meaningful. Jack Sparrow ought to be grateful for being shown such a courtesy. The demon watched the pirate shrink from his touch. He drew away, seemingly not in want of the demon’s touch. Good. He could tolerate that. The slave was protective of his offspring, putting his master second. Good, that was how it always had been. A mental call made him turn around, and he found himself staring at a man he had not seen for centuries. Something in him seemed to shatter as he viewed his father for the first time on four thousand years. It was as if something inside him began to sing, and it was an ancient song of his Origin, of childhood joys, the comforting touch of a father and the knowledge of always finding safety in his arms. Now, Saieros knew why he’d chosen Jack. Despite being a pirate and a criminal, Jack employed all those qualities which the Origin - as Paris had once been called - had also employed. The demon rose high on his two scull white legs, his strong thighs flexing muscles. He elevated his wings, stretching them out high in the dusty air. He opened his arms wide, drew in his stomach and jutted out his chest, wishing to impress Paris with his might. He wanted Paris to know what had become of his eldest demon son. A true warlord!

Paris’ apparition wavered. The former prince of Troy didn’t seem impressed, rather worried or frightened. It was not the reaction Saireos had expected.

“You must care better for him” Paris spoke in ancient Trojan dialect, nodding at Jack as to understate that it was the pirate he spoke of. It was a dialect resembling Turkish, a language long forgotten, though very much alive to Saieros. The demon turned his head to glance at Jack. The pirate had curled up with his back to the demon. He was whimpering and sighing, shivering from cold and fatigue.

“Remember” Paris spoke again, a little more insistent this time, “his body is the temple of your young.” Yes, his father spoke the truth. The demon watched the ghost disappear. Why did he go? Why wasn’t he impressed? Saieros turned to stare at Jack’s intricately tattooed backside. What would Paris have done? And what did it mean? Care better for him? The human was with child, what else did he need? He *needed* to be with child. That is what slaves need to, or else they’re useless. He pondered about Paris’ words over and over like it was some kind of word puzzle or riddle, not seeing any other possible interpretations.