White and Black Pearls 2 - One Remaining Pearl

Chapter Twelve

“You look tired, Jack.”

The man opened his eyes slowly, staring at his captor with a less than pleased expression on his face. “Really?” he asked in a tone that didn’t sound convinced or amused.

“You should get some sleep, rest up. There are big things in the works. Big things indeed.”

“You mean seeing the reanimated corpse of Davy Jones wasn’t the highlight of my time spent in this wonderful and cozy little home you’ve provided for me?” Jack mused. “That’s a fine job you’ve done with the Black Moss, I must say; excellent handiwork. You’ll have to teach me how to be such a limey bastard some day, really.” He scratched at his belly idly when that got no response out of the man. “What say you to a change from the bread you keep leaving me while I’m asleep?” he offered. “Like a nice bottle of rum or a hearty rum cake or at very least a dinner roll soaked in rum…”

“You can request your last meal at a later date,” his captor said curtly. “For now why don’t you spend your time making friends with Jones instead? You two are headed for the exact same fate, maybe you can share a seat on the Dutchman after you’re dead and being ferried into purgatory.”

Jack pointed his thumb at Jones, who was up on the outcropping as always and hadn’t said a word for the last very long time. “I don’t think he’s going to last much longer,” he whispered. “I ain’t never seen a man get to that stage of takeover from Black Moss before. Almost feel sorry for the soggy bastard, eh?”

“No,” the man replied frigidly. “I don’t feel an ounce of compassion for him, or you, or any pirate.”

He pursed his lips then, and tilted his head to the side. “Are you by any chance…” Jack paused, searching for the right word to use, but decided instead that the action of fluttering his lashes and giving his captor a coy look was description enough. “You know. That type.”

There was a pause, followed by a very curt and angry, “No.”

“Then why Black Moss?” Jack asked blatantly. “Seriously mate, that’s twisted.”

“You’ll understand in due time,” the man outside Jack’s prison said casually, with the comfort of knowing he had the upper hand in his voice. “In the mean time. Here.”

A bottle was tossed into the cell, and Jack dove for it, catching it before it could hit rock and scrambling to get it open. He sank his teeth into the cork, pulling it out as fast as he could and spitting the cork out of the cell before putting the bottle to his lips and tipping it upwards, spilling the clear liquid into his mouth with a joyous expression on his face. That expression faded however, and the man’s eyes opened in horror as he pulled the bottle from his lips, turned his head to the side and spat out the mouthful of liquid in a spray before gagging. “That’s bloody awful!” he cried out, dropping the bottle and wiping at his tongue with his fingers, shuddering with distaste. “What was that!”

Another long pause passed between Jack and his captor before his captor uttered dryly, “…It was water.”

“Terrible stuff! Water is for dogs and cows and sailing ships in, not drinking!” Jack blurted, wrinkling his nose. “Where’s the rum!”

“Ugh,” his captor said with disgust, not even bothering to supply an answer to such lunacy and turning his back to Jack, moving to leave once more.

“Wait, don’t go!” Jack called. “I’ve thought about your offer I’ve decided to accept it! I’ll take you right to the person you want and everything!”

“Oh I have no more need of that,” his captor said coolly, a wicked grin carved into his face as his eyes gleamed with menace at Jack over the man’s shoulder. “She’s on her way now, without even having to be called out. Such a predictable little posy, she is. What a delicious treat it will be, meeting her. Getting to know her.” The word ‘know’ came out dark and far from anything remotely innocent. He watched Jack’s face fill with horror and the man’s hands tremble; Jack’s captor licked his lips hungrily. “…And I have your captivity to thank for that. I suppose I owe you one, Jack. I’ll consider us even when she’s in my arms.” With a laugh, the man climbed the carved stairs up to the outcropping, and the rope ladder that lead to the only visible exit.

Jack was left alone with his thoughts, and that bothered him the most as he felt his chest tighten and horrible images flooded his mind. The small part of him that had been excited at the news of Celeste being on her way had been crushed and destroyed by thoughts of that man slipping his arms around his Celeste and hurting her, or worse yet… caressing her…

“You have but a few days left,” Davy Jones said quietly from the darkness above, “and that kind spear there would do the job if you ran yourself onto it.”

Jack looked over at the spear by his boulder, staring at the metal point glinting in the low light. He lifted a hand and gripped his dreadlock tightly, pinching the hidden pearl between his fingers as his stomach churned.


__________________________________________________________