Legends of the Treasure Child : Demon Spawn

It took him a second or so to realize it was he who'd cried out. James staggered backwards in shock. His knees gave way, and he fell backwards right unto his sore bottom. The jab of pain made him wince, made him regain his wits just long enough to comprehend the horror he was gazing at.

"In the name of Jesus Christ, James, help me!!"

James turned his head to the right to look at the nearest of the immobilized priests. It was one of the fellow captives from The Ranger. It was Cavanaugh. He was but a pale reflection of the once authoritarian priest James had come to know. His eyes were red-rimmed, bulging out of their sockets, and his mouth was twisted in a snarling maw from which blood and saliva ran steadily. He was next to toothless, with large blood soaked cavities where his teeth should have been. One front tooth was still dangling from a thread of tissue.

His ears were gone, seemingly ripped right from their place. James saw that Cavanaugh saw him stare at him.

"Hear no evil, see no evil!!" he shouted in an unnaturally pitched voice. He continued on with indecipherable mumbling which pitched into loud profanities and then down to the deepest of sobs. Cavanaugh had obviously lost it, and was fast on his way to become one of 'them'. Like the rest, Cavanaugh was trapped in a pillory. The pillories were placed in a row overlooking the starboard side of the railing. James staggered to his feet, sensing that blood was finding its way back to his feet so he could regain his composure. He got to his feet, found his knees to be totally wobbling, but he was determined to make it. He made his way step by step, gazing open-mouthed and with every muscle in his body stiffened in horror, at the display of priest caught in each their pillory. They were half naked, their holy robes reduced to rags. Their buttocks were exposed, and they were forced to endure a painful position, immobilized as they were. They were all sobbing and suffering from various degrees of shock and insanity. Cavanaugh was obviously the worst case. Their thighs and buttocks were covered with scratches, bites, tears and blue marks, as if they'd undergone a fight for their very lives. James suspected they'd been forced to fight the undead on their own while he'd been locked inside the captain's cabin. James' attention was drawn to the stairs he'd just ascended in order to get to the quarter deck. John was making his way up, and as he did, there was a commotion behind him. Several of the ghouls - James found no other word with which to describe them - lunged for the foot of the stairs, and threw themselves at the steps in the wake of John's boots. Standing rigid with fear, James found himself incapable of moving, of talking or doing anything but stare at their animal behavior. They were reaching out, wailing and shrieking 'master, 'master'!



"Well", John laughed dryly, throwing James a glance, "it would seem I'm a popular man these days."



"Take me!" one of the ghouls hissed, its head barely resembling human features, "take me!"



"No, take me!" another undead hissed, one who looked a lot more human but a lot less sane.



"Please, master! My Satan! Please, I want you inside me!!" a third, half rotten man wailed.



James felt the blood in his veins freeze to ice as it dawned on him what they were talking about. He shifted his blurry gaze to John for a moment, looking for corroboration. The lopsided, wicked smile he got in return, was all James needed. Understanding, seeing and fully believing that he was looking at a future self if he succumbed to John - if he allowed himself to be seduced - James backed away. His feet seemed to be moving on their own accord, and he didn't stop until his back made contact with the poop of the ship. The impact made him scream.

Moments later, the door to the cabin was thrown open, and both John and James listened as Jamie screamed in horror at the sight of the half dead. John immediately went down the stairs, clearing the way, yelling at what he referred to as 'useless crewmen'. They were his crew. A damned crew. Good God. They were his crew!

John came back up moments later, hauling Jamie up the stairs by his arm. He was stark naked, making a slight effort to disentangle himself from John's grip. He wasn't released until they were standing in front of the wheel.



"Well" John sighed, "when things start to happen, they really happen fast!" Jamie didn't reply, but remained in front of the wheel which was about as tall as himself. He assumed a proud posture, trying not to show his fright. Glancing down at the damned, who still remained by the foot of the stair, Jamie resolutely went over. He tightened his fists, and yelled demandingly: "What are ye all waiting for? Get back to work! Trim those sails, fasten those lines! Snap to it!"



They looked from Jamie, to John, then back to Jamie. Remaining in limbo, they continued to glare angrily at him, moaning and complaining silently. Nothing happened.



"You're going to have to try harder than that, Mr. Scarborough."



Jamie swallowed nervously. This was it. He had to prove himself to the demon or he'd lose credibility. He'd loose his place, and be replaced by that ex-priest.



"Get back to work or I'll have each and everyone of you skinned alive!" Jamie yelled, taking one daring step down the stairs. "I'll - I'll...!!" suddenly three of them lunged forward, groping for Jamie, they caught his leg, hissing gleefully at the surprising catch. Yelping of surprise, Jamie watched in horror as he slipped, fell and was dragged screaming step by step down towards the waiting crowd of eyeless, dribbling ghouls. Their skinless, bony fingers dug deep into his shins, causing him immense pain, clawing their fingers upwards, past his knees and up on his thighs. It didn't stop him from screaming and kicking. Placing one foot directly in the face of one of them, allowed him to kick free momentarily. Pain flared up in various parts of his body as he twisted and headed upwards on the coarse wooden steps, but only a few steps up, he was dragged back down again. He would not call for help. He would not turn to the demon and plead for his help. He would not show such weakness though fear and pain was nearly paralyzing him. More of the undead poured over him as he was dragged further down, and soon his head banged down at the main deck. Far away up there, was the quarterdeck and safety. Soon, undead priests - in various stages of decomposition - grasped his thighs, and they flipped him around, sniffing at his backside and parting his cheeks.

The slime and grime made Jamie shudder, recoiling under their grasp, screaming in horror. Would they rape him? He felt their bony fingers dig into the tender flesh of his cheeks, bruising the skin and puncture the flesh. Taking one sniff from his hole, they began to growl and roar something which sounded like 'no', as if they were upset about the state of his backside. A bony hand grabbed his blond locks and forced Jamie to arch his neck into a painful position. He was forced to stare with wide open eyes into a rather bloated human looking face which was fast fading from normal skin color to blackish blue - one of the final stages of decomposition. The flesh around the mouth was gone, eaten by larvae and other insects, and Jamie watched in horror as the little bugs came crawling out of the man's nose and up into the eye socket. The smell was sickening, near overpowering. He heard raspy, rounded words as if the man had trouble speaking, like he was fighting for breath: "He's been in your arse! The captain's whore!You've no right to take my place, no—!″



He was roughly shoved aside, replaced by a ghostly, dreadful apparition which seemed equally angry. Jamie felt a shower of claws and beats upon his body, and he cringed in pain, shielding his head with his arms. If he didn't do something, he'd be dead soon. But they were too many, weighing him down, digging bony fingers into his backside, kicking his belly and his back. Very soon, he was aching all over, with pain blossoming in every limb.



Little by little, the blows ceased, and Jamie realized that something was distracting them. Looking up, he realized it was James who was swinging away at them with a sword. He was swinging blindly, showing an apparent lack of skill with a blade, but it was enough to make the ghouls scatter for a brief moment for him to grab Jamie by the arm and haul him to his feet. Jamie could hardly stand. His feet felt like concrete, and he stiffly climbed each step back up to the quarter deck. There, he paused to gaze into the face of the demon with the golden eyes – the captain of the ship. He stood at the wheel, gazing coldly back down at Jamie. Jamie heard James return moments later, breath labored. He sat down with a heavy thud on the wooden deck, panting, sword clanking to the ground. Searching the demon's face for an answer, Jamie found nothing. Not even disapproval.



″Now you know what you're up against″ John simply said. Jamie realized it had not been meant as a test. He had not failed. He had gained the experience of knowing his adversaries and what they were capable of. Now, he had to find a way to control them. They heard James gasp and scramble backwards. Turning his head, Jamie saw one of the ghostly apparitions; A priest who was barely visible. He was sliding soundlessly upwards. As John fixed his gaze on the ghost, the ghost went from angry from submissive in less than the wink of an eye. Crawling before the captain's feet, there was a faint murmur of a pleading male voice. Touching the tips of his shoes, the ghost seemed to shiver. Clinging to his boots, the ghost caressed his trousers. Upon the first touch, the ghost was immediately restored to a solid man, and the younger boys watched in fascination as the man clinging to John's feet laughed.



James watched in horror as more crew members dared to move upwards. Reaching the top of the stairs, they laid themselves flat to the floor, wiggling over to join the ghost, reaching for John's breeches. Reaching him, and connecting the way the ghost had, they too became solidified. He fought the fascination, dragging Jamie as far away from the gathering crowd as he could. Soon, the crowd had been restored back into humans; Men in a variety of priest robes, on their bellies, reaching, groping, touching John's legs, moving upwards, kneeling and praying all the while their moans kept getting louder and clearer. They appeared like one moving mass of bodies with a multitude of pleading voices. A black, slithering, many-tentacled snake about to devour their captain. Jamie dragged James to the far corner of the quarterdeck. Tired, shivering with fatigue, he dragged Jamie up to his chest so the boy could rest his head there. He needed to breathe and relax if he were to protect them again. For the moment they seemed to enjoy relative safety as everyone's attention was focused on the demon captain. Who by the way was grinning, speaking softly to them, reaching out to lovingly caress their chins or stroke their heads. One of the priests had gotten up on his knees, and was currently undoing the captain's breeches with timid fingers.



The whole scene unfolding before the boys in the corner, told James them one thing: The priests had been reduced and corrupted into wanton slaves lusting for their master's manhood day and night. Hence the anger directed towards the newcomers. They all wanted a piece of him. They all wanted to be his special lover; Sheltered, loved and alive.



The horrific truth told James one thing: He had to get off the ship. It told Jamie something completely different: He had to do more than they did. He had to be better, sexier, hornier and more inventive in bed than all of them combined. And he had to be able to command them.



The priest who had undone John's breeches, gazed up at him with a pleading expression. While he did that, another took John's placid member in his mouth, suckling away at it. Someone's hands were roaming the fabric of his vest, searching for the buttons to undo it. Another priest pressed his head between John and the priest currently sucking his manhood. He extended his tongue to lick at John's balls. John grabbed the throat of the priest on his right side, and squeezed. There was a gurgling noise mixed with a moan, and soon, the priest came in his breeches. The man who was sucking his manhood was replaced by another priest. James watched in disgust as the mass of fallen clergymen fondled their revitalized organs inside their breeches. He had to shut his eyes and look away. There, before him, was the result of the demon's corruption, and looking to his right were his living colleagues immobilized in pillories, waiting to become like the rest. Then, there was himself and Jamie – whose innocent souls still were intact. Various stages. James began to realize he may never find the strength to leave this hellish ship. There was too much madness. Too much evil. Too much lust.



A flare of jealousy directed towards the living body of priests swarming the captain, shot up in his chest. It should have been him doing that! It should have been him taking the demon's entire length, caressing his strong thighs. It should have been him kneeling there in the vast sensation of submissiveness, with a straining cock and quivering hands enveloping the captain's tight backside. One cheek on each palm. It should have been him!



James shook his head to clear the vision from his mind. Stop it! He told himself. Stop it.



He watched in disgust as the priests arched their heads back, opening their mouths wide, moaning eagerly, coming in their pants. John stroked himself a few times, then came hard. His sperm shot out, pouring over the hungry mouths. The priests licked their lips eagerly. Their faces gleamed with hopes of more to come.



″Back to your stations″ John commanded them sternly. They watched in disappointment as he tucked his manhood back inside his breeches. One by one they grudgingly obeyed, losing their human appearance as they let go of his legs, melting back to their hideous shapes of the present. To his right, Cavanaugh still pleaded, mumbling ″in the name of Christ, in the name of Christ″, over and over. Sadness and sorrow. Hopelessness and darkness. No sign of salvation.



A multifaceted light played alongside the railings of the ship. Disappearing and reappearing just as swiftly, they reminded James of childhood tales of fairies playing. Fascinating as they were, he knew not their origin or what purpose they served, and he followed them with his gaze. For a moment they flared up behind John and the wheel, exposing the silhouette of black wings rising proudly out from between his shoulder blades. James felt the blood in his veins freeze and his heart pound faster. He unconsciously pushed himself closer to the corner, realizing that John Sparrow was less man and more something else than James first reckoned.