Legends of the Treasure Child : Demon Spawn

Familiar smells found their way into his nostrils even before they'd weighed anchor. Looking over to the Black Pearl, the crew was unloading quickly, putting boats on the water as if they were fleeing the ship for some reason. And perhaps the reason was all toghether simple: The Crimson and the Pearl was currently in bay just outside Tortuga. Tortuga meant, women, wine, rum, gambling, hustling and plain old adventure to be had. It was high time the sailors got their feet back on the ground in a solid fist fight or two. John smiled at them, wishing them the best of times as he watched them fill the boats and row ashore. It was all about being human, doing what humans did. Drinking and whoring and feeling the salty wind in one's hair. It's what being a pirate or the crew of a pirate is all about.

John stopped in his tracks as he watched Jack mount the next boat, singing merrily and taking sips from a bottle of rum which he sported in his right hand. John hardly believed what he saw. Was Jack really drinking rum?! How could he, all the while he let Erastus drink from his breasts? John felt something akin to irritation or anger rise inside. Hang on, now, John reminded himself. He had to remember he was not there to control Jack's life. If Jack wanted to drink, then it should be his prerogative. Perhaps he'd made a deal with Erastus. Maybe Erastus had just fed, and wouldn't be requiring anything from him for some time? Before he knew it, however, John found himself in a boat similar to those of the Pearl's, silently rowing into the harbour area under the excuse to be just, uhm, observing, not interfering. At least for the time being.

Watching Jack go ashore and mingle with the ragged people in the streets made John realize he was actually feeling envious. Jack had no antennae for the vices hiding in the hearts of men. He could just go on drinking, not caring if the next man or woman he stumbled on, was good or bad, if they'd killed, raped or cheated. Jack was happily blind among the blind. And that was something John could never have. And if Jack was happy this way, then what right did John have to control his father's behaviour?! There was no denying the next to overwhelming desire to grab Jack by the arm and drag him back to the Crimson and have him tied up in a most uncomfortable position, spreading his legs wide open for the world to see--!

Good God! John thought. He was becoming like his brothers. He followed at a respectable distance, watching Jack and Mr. Gibbs disappear inside a seedy looking tavern. There was a brawl going on the outside, and John worried for a minute that Jack would be caught in the middle of it. Remaining on the outside, John found himself at a loss concerning what to do. Every fibre in his body told him to continue - to follow inside and keep Jack under scrutiny. But there was also a voice in his mind telling him to just let go and to stop worrying. It told him it would be wrong to follow Jack any further. It would only result in a fight later, which would prompt Jack to keep John at a distance.

John managed to turn around. It cost him a lot of effort, and it cost him even more to walk away towards the harbour area. Letting go of the responsibility and allowing Jack to be human - to be Captain Jack Sparrow, for just a night - it was a big sacrifice. John could not afford to indulge the same urges as his brothers. Jack had to be shown every possible courtesy. He sat down on the dockside, just staring into the black abyss below. The gift of hindsight could be quite the past-time activity for those who dared. Using his powers, he cloaked himself from the eyes of mortal man, so he could be left in peace with his thoughts.


Three hours passed. Waking from his reverie, John heard Jack and Mr. Gibbs approach from one of the alleys. Mr. Gibbs was the loudest one, and Jack was supporting the first mate's stride as they laughed and drank their way to the boat.Suddenly, Jack stopped dead in his tracks, sniffing abou in the air.

"I can't see ye, me lad, but I know ye're there. What ye hidin' for? Or should I say from?"

"Now comh-, Jack" Mr. Gibbs began, "give the lad somh- uhm, slah- slackhh!"

There was no fooling Jack Sparrow. John sighed and got to his feet. Approaching them, he reappeared, his mind working fast to find some excuse.

"I was, uhm, well I just wanted to be ashore, you know, mingle with the living. You know, see Tortuga by night. I thought you were back at the Black Pearl? Is that a rum bottle in your hand?" John said. The words fell out of his mouth faster than he could come up with them and before he knew it he was holding Jack's bottle in his right hand. He took a sip before Jack could stop him. It took John two moments to realize what it was he was tasting, and before he knew it, Jack had grabbed him by the collar, drawn him close, and whispered: "If ye tell anyone, I'll have yer scrawny hide scrubbin' the Pearl's main deck from here to eternity!"

John had a look of disbelief on his face, and he immediately shrunk from Jack's hold on his shirt. He spat out the brownish looking content with a disgusted grunt, freed himself from Jack's grip and threw the bottle to the ground so it smashed on the rocks. Without another word, the half demon turned on his heel and strode directly to his boat, then rowing away into the darkness.

"Come, Gibbs, to the chariot! It's been a long night. I want me precious bed!" Jack grabbed Gibbs by the arm and escorted the by now completely confused man to their boat. Gibbs was still thinking about the incident as the harbour slowly dimmed behind them, the lights diminishing into small orbs.

"John really doesn't like rum" Gibbs began after staring blankly ahead of him for a long time.

"No, he doesn't" Jack answered contemplatively, " I guess he got mad at me fer drinkin' it, ye know, with Erastus an' all."

"Right" Gibbs said, nodding in understanding, all though the truth was he didn't understand anything at the moment. His brains were so all together soaked in rum and other nameless alcohol beverages that he had trouble recalling his and Jack's name and where they were going. Looking about, he realized they were far out, surrounded by black waters. Jack was rowing, and behind Jack, Gibbs made out the familiar silhouette of a ship he couldn't quite recall the name of. Woven together with all of these nocturnal images was the memories of the laughing wench he'd just been with at a seedy tavern - or something resembling that - who'd sat on his lap and allowed him to stare unabashedly at her bosom. The flimsy image of her golden hair, pale skin and red, laughing lips was like a butterfly which constantly got in the way as he tried to make it up the ladder to the ship. Jack helped him downstairs to his bunk, but after the tenth attempt of getting into the hammock, he was content to fall asleep on a sack of potatoes. Jack left him there, yearning for his own soft bed, hoping Erastus would be late so he could get an hour's sleep or so.
Making it to his cabin, he found Erastus already present, sitting and talking with John. It would seem as if John had just said something funny, for Erastus was a wide smile from ear to ear.

"Hello boys" Jack said.

"I was just leaving, actually" John said, getting to his feet. He was out of there in the wink of an eye, anxious to avoid Jack's wrath. Jack folded his arms over his chest and eyed his winged, dark-skinned son.

"He told ye, didn't he?!"

"Aye. I- I mean no, I have no idea what you're talking about" Erastus began. It was obvious that someone -like John - had instructed him to say so. "I mean" Erastus then said, clearing his throat, "I think it's, no I mean, I'm thankful for you being attentive. You show to me that you appreciate and respect my needs. You make me feel loved."

Now those were words from the heart. Jack knew. "Now, ye mustn't listen too much to yer brother. He's envious, ye know. He didn't get enough milk as a child because he never learned how to handle his fangs. 'He was never gentle, like ye."

"John is a Greater Demon. His desires are stronger, and require a greater exercise of control. He was glad it was tea you had on the bottle- !"
"Hush! Keep it down!" Jack said, suddenly anxious.

" - but he said it tasted like piss, and that you'd never learn to brew a decent cup of tea even if you lived a million years." Erastus swallowed. In his naivite, he continued:"And it's because as a pirate you've drank so much rum that your taste buds are completely fried away and therefore you don't know the difference between flavours anymore. It's all got to be strong or strong. Or it'll tastes like water. Then he laughed and I didn't quite know why he laughed but I laughed with him because it was fun that a brother of mine would entrust me with a secret-"

"-I get the picture" Jack sighed. "I'll deal with John in the mornin'. Now, ye want yer milk or not? I'm afraid then, tha' since I've been drinkin' wha' John refers to as 'piss' all night, the milk might be comin' with a slight aftertaste!" Jack replied, laughing inside as he watched Erastus hesitate. The newbred demon was obviously thinking hard about it, not realizing that both John and Jack was fooling with him.

"I'll - I'll take my chances" Erastus finally said, making his way over to Jack's bed slowly. If the milk tasted bad, he'd have to endure it. At least, there was a comfort in the respite of Jack's soft skin, the smell and warmth beneath his shirt.As he lay down next to Jack, Jack heard the youth's belly growl with hunger. So the boy had decided that food it was, no matter how foul it would taste. Suppressing a grin was difficult. It quickly disappeared as Erastus latched on to Jack's left nipple, drinking greedily from his breast for a moment. It took him ten minutes to suck dry one breast before switching to another.

"It tasted just fine! Like usual" Erastus said afterward. He sounded surprised.

"How nice" Jack replied, "I was worried there, for one moment." He tried hard to hide the irony.

"So was I" replied Erastus frankly, lying his head down next to Jack's chest, immediately dozing off.

Next morning.

Jack summoned John as sternly as he could. The half demon arrived promptly with concern plastered on his face. Seeing Jack standing there in the middle of the main deck with a bucket of soap water and a scrub before his feet, his arms folded over his chest in a grave manner and with an equally grave expression of face, made John immediately understand what the matter was about.

"I swear I did not tell a living soul" John said in his defense.

"Liar. You told someone, and we both know who did it!"

"Father, I- I" John glanced about, painfully aware of the bystanders, "you cannot compel me to perform such a- a task!"

"Why?"
"Because! Because- because I'm, well, I am...!"

"-Greater Demon or not, ye'll be scrubbin' this deck until I can see the shiny reflection of me arse on it! And then" Jack pointed a finger at his golden-eyed son, "ye'll be brewin' wha' ye perceive to be a cup o' tea fit for the King of England, only ye'll be servin' it to me, savvy?!"
John laughed a bitter, ironic laugh, understanding that Erastus in his innocence had not been able to hold his tongue. Oh just as well. It wasn't as if John had anything better to do this morning. Besides, it was also a suitable punishment since he hadn't been able to check himself last night, ripping that bottle out of his father's fingers in Tortuga. It would be good for the crew of the Pearl to see that Jack's power was infinite enough to even master a demon. Being humbled in front of mortal sailors would be a good thing, both for the crew and for John. It was called bonding. Or 'look - on the Black Pearl even demons have to scrub the decks!' As John mentally listed up these aspects in his mind, he decided to hold his tongue, accept the punishment and play humiliated in front of everyone. Truth was - doing something as down to earth as scrubbing a deck, was good for the demon mind, allowing him to focus on a simple task which didn't involve intrigue, strategy or violence. He pretended to be grudgingly advancing the bucket. He picked it up with an encumbered move, as if it weighed a ton. Then he sat it down again, meekly bowing his head before he knelt before Jack's feet and picked up the scrub with his other hand. Jack watched his son closely as the overly tall half demon began to scrub in silence, soaking his knees and the deck in water. Glancing up now and then, John observed that Jack had the gawking crew members by the balls: They all stared open-mouthed and whispered among themselves, nodding towards John. Picking their thoughts, John understood they had not guessed what the drama was all about, but they were speculating in what sort of crime John had committed to make Jack punish him so with something so degrading as scrubbing decks - a job left to the lowest ranking crew members - the meaningless cabin boys and so on. It had to be a serious offense - and as John had hoped they would - they concluded that not even demons were at liberty to cross Jack without consequence.