Legends of the Treasure Child

He took farewell with Jack and Gibbs, and remained standing in the street, watching until he saw his father make it safely on board the Pearl, safe under her protective wings. Seeing him all alone on her reminded him of another problem at hand. His demon father. The solution was there, right infront of his nose, he just couldn't see it yet. First the Thyrion had to be captured, then tamed and then trapped. Or trapped and then tamed. The taming would of course be Jack's department, having earned himself the right to vengeance a long ago with John's conception. But at the moment, Jack was out of harm's way and much had to be done during the night. John set course for Mr. McHaggard's house, and the shopkeeper joined him over to the house of his wife's sister and their family. Apparently something was going on, for they were met with screaming from a bedroom as they entered.

Mrs. McHaggard's sister were cleaning up the dinner table. No one had eaten. The food stood untouched, and her children sat huddled together on the floor near the fireplace. It was a modest home. With a crucifix on the wall, a worn sofa and a table at one wall, and four chairs and a dining table near the kitchen area. The back door was open, and John heard the snorting of pigs and the cackle of hens. She was a bit taken aback at seeing John, and John immediately felt sorry for her, for the trials concerning her daughter had put marks on her once beautiful face when she had been younger. Before she married. Before she had eight children. John wondered if Jack would look just as worn when he'd had eight children. Unless of course, John managed to stop the demon before it went to such lengths. Mrs Kingston wouldn't even shake his hand, she simply retreated into the kitchen, and simply told Mr McHaggard that they were in her bedroom. As usual.

“It's been going on for the past three years, gradually getting worse. As you will see, Mr. Sparrow, Rosemary is wasting away. She will no longer eat, and she hardly gets any sleep. Last night, one of her sisters had gone to check on her, and she'd found Rosemary eating spiders and insects. This is madness, I tell you, and I can't imagine why the priests can't see what she's going through.”

“What kind of excuse do they have for not helping her?”

“They think it's God's will for her to undergo these torments and that this is her payback for being wicked in her childhood. But Rosemary's such an innocent child! She's been a diligent believer in God ever since her early years. She once drowned a cat when she was eleven I think. That's all. Children do such things.”

The screaming subsided for a moment, and Mr McHaggard showed John into a maiden's bedroom. She had been sharing it with a sister, but the other bed stood empty, of apparent reasons. Rosemary was slumped in the middle of the bed, apparently unconscious.

“She just had another fit” her father whispered, eyeing John curiously. Thank you for coming, Paul.”

“Don't mention it. This is John Sparrow. Captain Jack Sparrow's boy. Now, I want you to be opwn about this, henry. He is, as they say, a half demon in fact, and I was hoping that maybe he could identify what's troubling Rosemary. What you say?”

“As long as you don't harm her, Sparrow, I'm willing to try anything, I'm just about ready to––“

“––Thyrion....!” Rosemary hissed. The voice froze John's blood in his veins, for it were not the voice of a young girl, but a dual male voice, much like his demon father's. Rosemary's body sat up, kneeling before them on the bed. She was dressed in a linen night gown, and she wore pieces of rope around her wrists. Restraints from which she'd torn lose. But a frail girl like that, John thought, couldn't, shouldn't have managed to do such a thing. She raised her head and opened her eyes. They went from pitch black to beautiful normal blue, and she all of the sudden screamed: “Please help me!!” Then an unseen forced hurled her backwards so she nearly hit her head against the wall. She convulsed, her frail frame writhing. John felt the entire room go electrical, felt the hairs raise on his arms and a shudder went through him as he saw what no one else could see. The demon within. It was a loathsome creature, grey and smoky in substance, filling her from head to toe. The body of Rosemary sudden ceased to thrash. Instead it sat up, smiling wickedly at John, speaking to him in Aramaic, beckoning him with her arms. Mr. McHaggard and Mr. Kingston looked at each other and then to John, who apparently understood it all. To them, Rosemary almost seemed...afraid of John.

“Hello Baalial” John simply said in return. The body of Rosemary stopped dead in its tracks, her pitch black eyes filled with the malignancy of the demon stared wide-eyed at him.

“I don't want any trouble with you, son of Thyrion” Baalial replied in Aramaic.

“Then you best be off” John grinned back. It wasn't a friendly grin, and the bystanders understood that John had hit the demon spot on.

“I will not go voluntarily. I saw her first” Baalial answered, his dark voice resounding through the room, “they said she was mine. They gave her to me in return for my services.”

“The priests? Aye, I thought there was something fishy about them” John laughed, “Baalial. You are being fooled. You have been set up. They knew I would come here and destroy you. They do not serve the dark lord. They serve themselves. And they, like the girl, are mine. Now do not make me call on the power of Jesus and expel you back to the lowest plane of Hell.”

“Traitor!You are the son of the Rex Phenex Thyrion! How dare you take the side of the non-believers?”

“In the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord––“

“––I will not go without a fight!” Baalial raged, screaming at John. John answered by drawing magical shining symbols in the air between him and the body of Rosemary. They glowed a pale blue. John then signed the cross in the air, and went on: “By God, by the intercession of Mary, spotless Virgin and Mother of God, of St. Michael the Archangel, the holy warrior against the creatures of darkness, I call upon you. By Beelzebub, Lord of Flies and master of destruction, by Rex Lucifer the fair and unholy, I do call upon thee to cast the demon Baalial back to the first plane of Hell. May you never find your way out of the labyrinth in a thousand years!”

The demon within Rosemary screamed once more. Her body convulsed, unholy words and cursing poured over her lips, and the saliva hung in threads from her mouth. John quickly drew a circle in the air between them. It burnt with blue flames.

“I command you, Baalial! Cease your grip of this woman and be cast back to the first plane of Hell! Obey me!” John yelled, feeling the spirit of Michael and Lucifer rage through him. The electricity was immense. The temperature dropped dramatically and the glass windows creaked and splintered into a multitude of shards as they failed to contain the sudden drop in degrees. The oil lamp on the small table in the other side of the room cracked as well. The very air went thick with magic, and from Rosemary's body emerged a grey smoke which spun fast as it was hurled away from its victim and into the portal. With it left the voice, and Rosemary fell down onto the bed again. They all held their breaths as the portal closed, cutting off the demon's raging screams. Only Rosemary's faint sobs could be heard, and they heard the clatter of running feet approaching from the hallway. Mrs Kingston and a trail of sons and daughters peeked inside, demanding to know what the shouting was about. They all stopped to stare as Rosemary sat up, her young face covered in tears, shaking uncontrollably.

“It's gone!” she exclaimed, “ it's truly gone!” Rosemary laughed in astonishment. Then she saw John and immediately flinched. It hurt him to see her do so.

“Hello Rosemary. Welcome home” he gently spoke. Before she could reply, her entire family threw themselves at her, hugging her and kissing her. Three years of constant nightmare was over. Then Mrs Kingston liberated herself from the children, went over to John and took his hands in hers and kissed them, wetting them with her tears. The thankfulness she displayed made John speechless. Her honesty overwhelmed him, and it made him realize what a stressful situation she had been living with for the past years. Her child had been lost to her, and now she was regained. John felt a pang of bad conscience for Jack, for having left his father all alone at the Black Pearl. With the memories.

They all helped Rosemary out of bed, and she stood, her legs shaking from the effort. The supernatural force which had possessed her and kept her going, was gone. Rosemary was a shadow of her once happy self, no meat left on the bones, her cheeks hollow and arms as thin as the wings of a bird. She reached out for John with quivering, bony fingers, yet when she was close enough, she did not dare to touch him, and withdrew.

“His name's John Sparrow” Mr Kingston told her encouragingly, before he added “and all though I am at a loss to understand why a demon would help us by casting out his peer, I am truly grateful.”
Mr Kingston nodded his thanks to John, who smiled politely in return, nodding back.

“Miss Kingston” John said to Rosemary, “may you live peacefully now for many, many years”.

“No!” she exclaimed, as John made to leave, “please don't go!”

He turned to look at her. “I mean, please, I feel so lost.”

“You have your family here with you. You're not lost at all.”

“I cannot see God.”

“Oh” John replied, his eyes darting to and fro in the room. Was he supposed to help her? Apparently. “Rosemary––“

“––too long have the demon blinded me. Filled me. What if God no longer wants me?”

“Oh he'll have you, don't you worry. You have not sinned in any way, Miss Kingston. But I will try to help you. I would invite you to share a meal with me. The sooner you start eating again, the sooner you'll recover.”

John and Rosemary seated themselves at the Kingston dinner table in their living room. The mother cooked potatoes and sauce, heating salty ham which she then served to John and Rosemary. Mrs Kingston watched John closely, wondering if he would eat normal food like any other human, or if he fed on the souls of the living. Her thoughts struck John's mind, and he turned his head to her and said: “You wouldn't happen to have some marmalade? I so like to enjoy a good sauce with some marmalade.”

The comment brought a smile to her face, and she hurried off to find it from the top shelf. She put it next to John's plate with a smile, and he smiled warmly in return. His heart was swelling with the warmth emanating from the humble family, making him feel right at home.

The key. The word came fluttering to his mind. The key. The key to such a family. Huh? Oh bugger how he hated these premonitions. Premonitions of the future. For there were no such thing as coincidences. Only circumstances which appeared, provided the right elements were in the right place at the right time, say for instance John the demon sitting at the dinner table in an ordinary good Christian home in the middle of Tortuga late at night. Such inconceivable, unlikely events triggered these premonitions, allowing him to sense what lay ahead in the future. Jack's family would have this kind of atmosphere. Jack's children would grow up in a stable, secure nest, a home filled with warmth and love. And they would all prosper from it, being brought up in the light, in the grace of God. Jack would win, and the Thyrion would lose, being left outside in the cold.
An image flashed before John's eyes, and he saw himself celebrating Christmas with Jack, Will and Elisabeth and some children he couldn't identify as Will's or Jack's. It didn't matter, for outside in the cold rain lurked the Thyrion, watching them through a window, stealing glances of Jack, ultimately happy as he opened his present from Elisabeth and Will. Aye it was each Thyrion's curse to be acquainted with human emotions. Sadness. Loneliness. Regret. And the cursed lust. Eleven children? Will and Elisabeth would get eleven children? The poor souls. Bye bye privacy. John smiled faintly at the thought, chuckling inside at the thought of the mighty Captain Turner, commander of the feared Flying Dutchman, not quite so fearsome while getting up for the billionth time in the wee hour of the night to soothe an infant whose name he no longer could remember because of severe lack of sleep. And this Will Turner at present time on board the Dutchman ached and longed for. Idiot. John hoped Will was having a good time while he still could. John let the fleeting images go, and focused on Rosemary. She looked nervous.

“What's wrong?” John asked, while helping himself with ham and potatoes, then some sauce and marmalade. He looked down at her plate, discovering she'd only helped herself to the smallest potato and half a slice of ham. “Oh I see”, John then said, sighing, “you need to take back control of your body, Miss Kingston. I understand if you feel that the demon is still on the inside, but seriously, what do you expect, since it has been the only thing you have felt for the past three years? You must get used to not having him on the inside. And in case you've forgotten how to use a fork, I will take the opportunity to remind you that you usually hold it in your right hand, like this”, John showed her, glancing over to Mrs. Kingston. He earned himself a modest laugh from Rosemary, and the whole family laughed with her. But her smile soon turned to tears. She cried silently, not looking up to meet John's eye. And it came to his understanding that it could not be easy for her to sit down and be normal, for after three years of torture and obscene actions forced upon her by Baalial, she'd simply forgotten how to. And it was slowly coming back, reminding her of the torment. The time lost. And the pain she'd been through. She was trying to cope, and John realized that there was something he had to do for her even though the very thought appalled him.

“Mrs. Kingston” John turned to the lady of the house, “would you be as kind as to lend me your Bible?” Mrs. Kingston was quick to leap up from her chair to find it, and it surprised Mr. McHaggard as well as Mr. Kingston to hear a demon ask for the holy book. She fetched it from the shelf of the only furniture in the living room, and handed it to John. He cleared his throat, and began to leaf through it. Touching the surface of the Bible was like touching the soft skin of a fair woman. It meant nothing to him, yet the smooth warm, living surface was pleasing to touch. The book was indeed alive with the word of God. But John had never in his wildest dreams imagined that it would actually welcome him, who was a half demon, instead of rejecting his hands, searing his skin. He failed to see the meaningful glances exchanged by Mr. McHaggard and Mr. Kingston.

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours now and for ever.

Amen.

” John looked up from the book, to meet Rosemary's face. He was as surprised as she was, for the words which he apparently knew by heart, had poured out from his lips. He hadn't even read the lines in the book. But his soft words obviously held effect, as she'd stopped crying and looked at him instead. He got an idea, and flipped pages until he found what he was looking for. The story of Jesus feeding five thousand people with loaves and fishes.
“When it was evening, his disciples came to him, saying, This is a desert place, and the time is now past; send the multitude away, that they may go into the villages, and buy themselves victuals. But Jesus said unto them, They need not depart; give ye them to eat. And they say unto him, We have here but five loaves, and two fishes. He said, Bring them hither to me. And he commanded the multitude to sit down on the grass, and took the five loaves, and the two fishes, and looking up to heaven, he blessed, and brake, and gave the loaves to his disciples, and the disciples to the multitude. And they did all eat, and were filled: and they took up of the fragments that remained twelve baskets full. And they that had eaten were about five thousand men, beside women and children” John read, all though he knew the true story by heart. One thousand, not five! Then again, the Bible did have a way at exaggerating things. He felt as if he'd been there, eating the fish and the loaf. Aye. It had been simple, yet the best meal ever. He searched his brain to find an answer to why he knew this, and it came to him that yes, there had been a slave of the Thyrion among the crowd. And as Jesus had walked towards him, he'd shied away, afraid to be exposed since he was carrying a child in his stomach. The very presence of the Christ had made his unborn child writhe in fear, and the slave had left. A forefather of John's!
He watched Rosemary struggle with the food, watched as she took comfort in his soft spoken words about Jesus feeding the hungry. She saw the parallel, saw what John was trying to do for her. And he was grateful to be helping her. A Catholic firm in her belief in Christ and the holy Virgin, dining with a half demon from the seventh plane of Hell. Now there was an eye opener. John finished his plate, scraping off the very last remnant of Mrs. Kingston's delicious sauce. Rosemary had some pieces of food left, reluctantly putting them into her mouth, chewing and chewing until she finally managed to swallow. John minded to drink the glass of wine as well, knowing all eyes were on him.

“The demon knew you” she all of the sudden said, looking straight at John.

“Aye he did.”

“He was afraid of you. Why was he afraid of you?”

“Because I play both sides of the field” John answered enigmatically.

“You have powerful allies” Rosemary said, scrutinizing him, his eyes, his bandanna and his jacket. His long brown, slightly curled hair. “Aren't you rather fair looking for a demon?” she cocked an eyebrow.

“Heh, you should meet Lucifer. Now there's a treat for the eye” John laughed, “you see, Lucifer knows he's good-looking. Kind of like Cinderella, only the hellish version. He's blonde though, and that says it all. Spoiled, mischievous, with a if you're not with me, then you're against me kind of attitude. A certified brat with enormous power. Baalial actually fathered him, you know. And now he's a king of Hell. Didn't you know?”

Rosemary shook her head in confusion.

“Hell will always represent Chaos simply because there are eight planes of Hell. In Greek mythology, you go to the first level, which is the deepest and farthest away from Heaven and eternal rest, and the afterlife is therefore considered a struggle for all the dead who must try to succeed at finding their way through the labyrinth of levels until they reach the surface, which is earth, for then to rise up to the heavenly gates. On their way up, they face different perils, and the different levels are littered with demons of varying degrees. The higher their number, the more solid in the flesh they are, as opposed to the transparent ones, like Baalial. The higher the number, the easier they are to vanquish. The lower and more transparent they are, the more difficult and dangerous they are to handle. All demons crave to make it to the heavens, just like the souls of the dead, only the demons wish to get there in order to destroy heaven. Usually, they get caught up in different diversions, generally called humanity. Each level or plane of Hell has their own king. Lucifer reigns on the first plane of Hell which is the most influential one. Of course. My father, the Thyrion, is a demon whose kin have been living in exile on the face of the Earth for millenniums, long before Christ. His forefather was King of the seventh plane of Hell, but was dethroned during a power struggle. Hell's levels are in constant battle against each other, waging wars to win control, expanding their territory. Heaven is different. Heaven is made up of divisions. There's of course God at the top, with Jesus Christ at his right hand. Then there's the, uh, administration, the apostles in constant quarrel with the arch angels about how to run Earth. Didn't see that one coming, did you? Then there's the lower divisions who respect and cooperate with each other. That's why Heaven represent Order. Because they're not interested in expanding. They're pleased with what they have, but they have Earth as their battleground because of the constant attacks on their gates by demons using Earth as a gateway, savvy?”

Hm, perhaps a little too much information, John decided afterwards. “Now, you ask me why I'm so normal? If I can be so bold as to use that expression? It's all thanks to my human father Jack. My fondest memories of him is from when I was a boy, for he raised me with love and warmth, teaching me right from wrong.”

John thanked for the dinner, and bid them all good night. Now for some fun. He walked away from the Kingston house after having left the family a little gold, and he only stopped after making sure he was out of plain sight. He thought of lieutenant Tully, imagined his sour face back at the colonial shop, and soon John's feet started walking, taking him directly to where Tully could be found. The trail led John back down to the harbour where he saw the Black Pearl. John closed his eyes and remained inanimate, scanning the night-life of the citizens of Tortuga. There was McHaggard, ushering some men along with a cart with the oven and the live stock for the Pearl. John's mind swept across the Pearl, and found Jack inside the cabin, studying the documents of the Pearl. As John's vision closed in on his father, Jack turned in his chair and looked straight at him, a little startled. Then realization and relaxation as he realized the presence belonged to John.

“I'm sorry to alarm you” John whispered unaware. Jack turned back into his chair, and put away the documents, getting up and out. John watched him in his mind as he walked beneath deck to inspect the treasures, sitting down in a heap of gold coins, letting the coins slip through his fingers. Jack was lost in thought, and John left him there, not wishing to intrude any further. He turned his attention towards Tully instead. The scallywag was currently at a shady inn some streets away from the dock site. The humid nocturnal air was exhilarating. John drew a deep breath, feeling the oncoming hunt. He strolled down to the inn, opened the door, and went inside. The chaotic bar went from rambling chaos to silence in a matter of seconds. John ignored their stares, quite enjoying the terrified looks, but made an effort to make sure Tully made eye contact. John then went over to the bar, and ordered a shot of rum. The barkeeper obeyed without a single word, but John stopped him, offering a gold coin to have the entire bottle. He'd never tasted rum before. Jack was all into that, so it had to be good, right? He downed the entire shot, coughing slightly at the burn. What a load of piss! How could Jack possibly indulge such a terrible taste? John ordered red wine instead, and it was much more to his liking. He drank three glasses, and upon feeling the slightest notion of tipsiness, left. As he'd hoped, Tully soon followed suit with a couple of helpers.