Legends of the Treasure Child : Demon Spawn

There was something about the fog which Jack didn't like. It covered the Black Pearl in a cold and clammy grip, and the thicker it became, the more difficult it seemed to breathe. It was like a someone had put the lid on a boiling casserole, except there was no heat. Not a sound was to be heard, not even the noise of water along the hulls. It was as if they'd sailed into a sea of silence. The fog's misty touch left everybody's clothes damp, chilling them to the very bone, it seemed. After two weeks of sailing into nothingness, Jack observed that the crew were beginning to become visibly nervous. Everybody was checking twice over their shoulder, and one wrong glance from another crewman was enough to set off a quarrel about nothing. Irritation grew. Hostility advanced, yet so far Jack had managed to restrain them from hurting each other over trivialities. Together with Mr. Gibbs, he now ran the ship with strict discipline, forcing the crew to mind rules and regulations so they would keep their minds occupied.

But he could not keep them from the horror-inducing sight of the Crimson Lotus, which sailed in tandem with the Black Pearl on their way around the hub of the Hellmouth. There was no escaping the fact that as reality melted into obscurity, the sleek lines forming the Crimson Lotus, along with its crew, came clearer into view. It did nothing for their paranoia to learn that the crew of damned priests also could see them. Once that was established, the first reaction of the priests were rage and intimidation – perceiving the crew of the Pearl as a threat to their chances of a moment's bliss with their captain. Then, those who were still of a human mind, turned their rage into pleas, pleading for the crew members of the Pearl to help set them free. Most disturbing were their exclamations – their uncensored stories of their sins, and Jack watched his crew cringe at the words they hurled out, their begging hands and their hollow eyes. There was no question in Jack's mind that they deserved the fates given to them – they did not look happy, but distressed, haunted and restless. He watched John at the wheel. His firstborn, his long dark locks flowing like a halo of nocturnal starlit sky above his head, the billowy white shirt underneath the blue vest. The gold and the diamonds sparkling in the thick hair held back by the grey bandanna. John looked in his direction as if he'd noticed Jack's eyes on him. He nodded respectfully, his face a mask of seriousness and alertness. Later on, Jack watched him as he brought a golden-haired boy up on deck. He instructed the young man in operating the wheel, and they were deep in conversation as John seemed to be informing him of various duties on the ship. He recognized the subjects of the conversation – the fastening of lines, course adjustment and mapping out a route. The boy was in training, either as first mate or as captain. What was John up to?

Jack felt eyes on him, and glancing about, he saw nothing out of the familiar. Something made him look up, and he almost fell out of balance as something big and white with black wings flashed through a thinner pocket of fog. It couldn't be, could it?!

Mr. Gibbs joined Jack on deck. He was clearly nervous, walking in circles with eyes darting in all directions.
″And here I thought the Flying Dutchman was a horrific ship to behold″ Mr. Gibbs exclaimed, raking his fingers through his hair. ″Bad sign, this is, bad in deed!″

″How so?″ wondered Jack, ″it's John's ship. With him at our side, nothing...″ Jack glanced up, ″uhm, nothing could go wrong, ey? We just need to get through this fog, and I'm sure things will look a lot brighter.″ Jack grinned briefly, trying to sound confident. ″Look, mate, it's not as if they're going to be able to board our - ″ Jack suddenly hesitated as something in the distance caught his eye, ″ - ship?!″

In deed it was another ship. The at first dim outlines suggested it was a schooner, but the closer the Pearl came, the more they could see the deterioration. The main mast was broken in two, with the broken half in the water. The sails were nothing but rags, and the foremast and bowsprit was gone, obliterated along with the forecast. The painting had worn off, and the boat was lying heavy in the water. The bleak and sombre ship – or rather, what was left of it – made the crew of the Pearl shudder in their boots. They passed The Ellen Austin in silence, crossing their chests in muttered prayer.

The Black Pearl came upon more vessels, more schooners, another East Indiaman and even a galleon. The vessels were in different conditions -some in shipshape, others worn and battered. Deserted, or inhabited by strange, flickering lights. Jack noticed as John was getting more watchful, minding their voyage instead of the boy. The fact that John was on the alert suggested they were heading into dangerous waters. Jack had heard many stories of ships lost in the Bermuda. Ghost ships and crews which kept disappearing. His thoughts were distracted as they sailed past a ship where a lone woman wandered the deck. Then another vessel, a large galleon fit with cannons, their gun ports open. There were voices, strange laughs and high-pitched screaming. Coming closer, Jack and his crew once again shuddered, watching the main deck of The Pimpernel alive with people. They were raving mad,with froth around their mouths, dribble and blood pouring from teeth less mouths. The quiet ones were sitting on deck, chewing on some poor fellow's cut off limbs, gnawing on an arm as if it was a chicken leg. They looked up, and gazed wild-eyed at the terrified crew of the Black Pearl as they sailed by. Dead people hung half way out from some of the gun ports. Other ports were smeared with blood an gore, suggesting someone had been strapped to a cannon and then fired through.

A motion caught Jack's eye way up ahead in the sky. In deed, he cursed, again with the winged figure! It had to be wretched Saieros, who called himself 'demon king'. Jack snorted, brimming with defiance. Anger swelled in him, it made him want to roar at the winged silhouette so briefly seen through the fog. Just then, he heard Murtogg and Pintel cry out. They were excitedly pointing at something in the water, shouting ″monster, monster!″ before they quickly removed themselves from the railing, running around and flailing with their arms in the air.
Jack watched breathlessly as the grey water between the ships began to boil and stir. Something drifted just under the seething surface, and occasionally, spines on the back of a slick worm-looking creature would appear for then to submerge itself, coiling away into the dark mass of water. Shooting up on the far side of the Crimson Lotus, the worm loomed in the air before diving down on the main deck of the Crimson. Its head was only a large, razor sharp maw of teeth, and Jack watched as the mighty Crimson leered to its right under the weight of the worm as it crawled up along the hull. Out from the maw appeared a thousand specter tentacles, instantly ejecting, curling themselves around whatever unfortunate souls they got in contact with. Piercing cries echoed as a dozen or so damned priests were dragged into its gigantic maw. Once done, the worm turned its head towards the quarter deck. John lifted his right arm high, and a white light encompassed his hand – a shining beacon in the grey abyss they'd come to find themselves in. He watched the worm cringe back, spewing out more tentacles. John did nothing to prevent another dozen poor souls to be taken.

″Ship on port side!″ Twigg suddenly screamed through the mayhem. Jack swirled to the left, searching with his gaze until the massive outlines of another ship, a rebuilt galleon, appeared through the thick pockets of fog. He was surprised to find it was The Flying Dutchman, heading straight on collision course. What the heck was Will thinking?!

Wringing the wheel hard to starboard, Jack realized that a collision was unavoidable, though the damages could be minimized if he just had reacted swiftly enough. John did the same on the Crimson, though he seemed greatly distracted by the worm which still roamed the waters between the ships.

″Battle stations!″ Jack shouted hard at them, shaking his crew members out of their horrified trance. The order was soon echoed by Mr. Gibbs, and he went about shaking the men into action. It was as if the worm had a spellbinding effect on them, tranquillizing or immobilizing its victims. Soon, they all scurried of after weapons, ropes and cutlasses.

The Black Pearl veered heavily, the wood in her hulls creaking from the sudden strain. Soon, her hull made contact with the hull of the Flying Dutchman, and the piercing sound of wood scratching against wood filled the deafening silence. The bowsprit of the Dutchman then pierced the walls of the back of the quarterdeck, with splinters flying and agonizing creaking. The two ships came to a halt, locked into each other.

Needless to say, Jack was greatly annoyed, and he shouted: ″Will Turner!″ Just as he'd shouted, the worm shot out of the water, once again attacking the deck of the Crimson Lotus. The ghosts fled as best as they could. A bolt of fire suddenly erupted from John's palm. He was aiming at the worm. The bolt hit it dead in the maw, and it flinched and moaned, retreating a little. Again and again, he had to hurl fire bolt after fire bolt at it, before the persistent worm gave up, escaping into the abyss with its victims attached to its tentacles. The Black Peal seemed for now, uninteresting. That was, at the moment, not Jack's greatest concern.

He made his way over to the deck of the Flying Dutchman, ready to give Will Turner a solid piece of his mind for ruining The Black Pearl. He paused to gaze into the sky. Again with the winged demon, he thought angrily. Somebody ought to clip of his wings and be rid of that disgusting creature once and for all. But where was Will?! Jack gazed about, noticing that the deck was in disarray. The railing was shattered, the deck broken on several places and there were clear signs of struggle. Fear grew in his chest as Jack bent down to pick up one recognizable object: Will's knife. He glanced over to the mayhem at the Crimson, watching John run down to the main deck, armed with a golden blade. The worm – no, it was not the same worm, emerged from the far side of the ship, and John began to swing his blade at the tentacles. As they made contact with his blade, they solidified from their fluid, ghostly matter, falling to the deck, writhing and then going still. The remaining ghosts were hiding, crouching behind whatever they could find. Only the boy remained at the helm, his face a rigid mask of fear.

It dawned on Jack what might have happened on the Dutchman. The deck should be littered with passengers. Will should be at the helm, and Bill should be somewhere around helping out. Jack ran across the deck, eyeing the wheel. Nobody was lying up there. The cabin door lay splintered, and he went inside. No sign of Will. No sign of anybody, Jack thought at first. Then there was a noise coming from a dark corner. Spinning on his heel with his cutlass ready, Jack realized he was looking at a dead man, crouching in the corner.

″S – soul....souleater!″ the man stuttered.

″Where's the captain of this ship?!″ Jack demanded. But no reply was given. Only the same word repeated over and over.

Jack hurried outside, shouting over to John for his attention. Having a moment's peace, John turned, eyeing Jack.
″John, what's a souleater?!″

John turned to look just as another worm shot out from the water again, hurling itself at two ghost running from one hiding spot to another.

″You're looking at one!″ John shouted, pointing at the worm. ″Don't worry, their stomach should be full soon!″

″Don't worry?″ Jack said to himself, eying the state the Black Pearl was in. His beloved lass of the sea had been impaled on the proud manhood - the bowsprit - of a fabled ghost ship. And it wasn't even a pretty looking boat! And they were surrounded by sea worms eating the souls of the damned. They had no way of fleeing, unless....!

″Axes, everyone! Get tha' thing out of me lady this instant!″ Jack shouted at his crew. There was no way he'd just stand idly by and watch his sweetheart be molested this way.
As the crew of the Black Pearl began chopping away at the bowsprit, Jack moved over to the railing closest to the Crimson.

″Uh, son?! I know ye're a wee bit busy at the moment, but I believe tha' our dear William has been or is in the process of being devoured by one of yer little worm pets 'ere!″

″They're not my pets! They're border guards which have eloped from the higher planes of Hell. Dear William, you say? Our William? William Turner?! Bloody hell, why can't that man stay out of trouble?! Well, if he's eaten, then he's eaten, Dad, there's no getting back then, unless of course he was chased as fell into the Hellmouth...!″

″Ye have to find out fer sure, me boy. Or Elisabeth will kill us both.″

″I can't do it with these creatures on me back now, can I?!″

″Can't ye just present the rest of 'em in a fruit basket and be done with it?!″

″Hey, good idea!″ John said, his face brightening up.