The Wailing Walls - A Ghost's Story
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Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › Slash - Male/Male › Jack/Will
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
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Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › Slash - Male/Male › Jack/Will
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,863
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
The characters and the PotC-trilogy belongs to Disney. No infingement intended, nor money made from using them in this story.
Tales From The Crypt
A/N: Thank you everyone for reading again :)
- dd & mz
Chapter 3 - Tales From The Crypt
****
The narrow street of the dreary port town rolled down to the harbour front, where once the seediest taverns had poured the thinnest of ales. You could almost hear the echo of the raucous laughter and clatter of coins seeping out from the dilapidated buildings, their windows dark and shuttered, their once gaily painted signs, now peeling and faded, creaking desolately in the fitful breeze. In days gone by, people had come and gone like the passing of the tides. There had been plenty of places for a sailor to spend his money and everybody expected a profit.
Jack and Will turned their collars up to the damp and cold, speaking in hushed tones as they made their way down the fog shrouded street towards the Crown and Thorn, one of the few surviving businesses in the once thriving seaside village. A pervading sense of despair and decay settled along with the chilling mist on the two men’s shoulders, the heavy blanket of fog muffling the sound of their footsteps upon the damp cobblestones.
“What happened here?” Will asked quietly, looking curiously around at the deserted buildings. “Where did they all go?”
Jack shrugged. “Somewhere cheerier, I imagine.” He pulled a scrap of cloth out of his pocket and waggled it under Will’s nose. “All the better for us to be left alone to our own devices. Don’t need a gaggle of curious townsfolk wondering what we’re doing up at the great house.”
“So you’re planning on going up there, after all?” Will shivered slightly and pulled his coat closer around his throat. “Despite all the warnings?”
“No. Because of them.” Jack grinned widely. “Whatever the truth, there’s a reason the folks in this town don’t want us visiting the place. All the more reason to do just that, aye?”
They stopped outside the door to the tavern, the feeble light spilling from the window barely piercing the gloom outside. Pocketing the scrap of cloth, Jack smiled briefly. “Perhaps this Nellie can cast some light on the matter, eh?”
The two ducked through the doorway into the dimly lit room, the low ceilings blackened with years of candle soot and tobacco smoke. A mishmash of patrons were scattered among the wooden tables and benches. Several of the Black Pearl’s crew were gathered around a table in the far corner, engaged in solemn conversation. Gibbs was also there, sitting off to one side by himself, a resigned look on his face.
Seeing the new arrivals, Gibbs resolutely waved them over, his face, as usual, an open book. Jack knew before he opened his mouth, what his quartermaster was going to say.
“Cap’n, I’m afraid…” Gibbs was interrupted by a shushing finger of Jack’s.
“No worries, mate.” Jack glanced around the dim lit room, before sliding onto the bench opposite Gibbs, and out of earshot of the rest of the crew. “Best not be announcing it to the world, savvy?”
Gibbs raised his eyebrows inquisitively. “You think that perhaps…” he began again, only to be hushed again.
Leaning forward, Jack waggled a finger under Gibb’s nose. “If you might, Mr. Gibbs, see that the men are given a third portion of their “wages,” and inform them we will be staying in port until further notice.”
“Not likely the men’ll be wantin’ t’ stay in this town longer’n necessary, Cap’n.” Gibbs whispered in return. “There’s plenty of talk about the place, of things being a bit peculiar, ‘specially when the moon is full.”
Jack chuckled. “Afraid of things that go bump in the night, are they?” He nodded towards where Will was standing, warily watching the room beyond. “Will there can attest, the place is full of them.”
“So, what now, Cap’n?”
Jack pulled out the scrap of cloth again and, after looking around once more, spread it out on the table between them. It appeared to be a map of some sort, roughly sketched on a piece of leather. The map was a curious affair, with a compass rose in its center, from which various lines radiated outward. In the upper right corner of the map, there was the jagged outline of a coast. Several prominent landmarks were noted, including the words Drax Hall under a large X.
“Seeing as you were unable to locate the coppersmith,” Jack smirked, noting the surprised look on Gibbs’ face, and beckoned Will to come over. “We’ll just have to go with the information we already have.”
Will joined them, pulling a chair around next to where Jack was sitting. Nodding to Will, Jack pulled a crumpled piece of parchment out of his pocket, on which were scribbled some words. “Maybe we should look at it again, piece by piece, and see if we can make sense of it.” He smoothed the parchment out and slid it along the table in front of Will, his other hand coming to rest on Will’s thigh under the table, out of sight. “Perhaps, dear William, you will do the honours and read it aloud for us?”
Clearing his throat, Will casually put his hand over Jack’s and recited the few lines he knew by heart by now.
Who makes it, has no need of it.
Who buys it, has no use for it.
Who uses it can neither see nor feel it.
Will pushed the parchment back to Jack, shaking his head with a frown. “It doesn’t make any more sense than it did the first time.”
Gibbs scratched his head. “Not much help, that is. Could be just about anything.”
“No, not when you think of it.” Jack tapped his finger on the cryptic message thoughtfully. He was about to say something more, but hastily folded the parchment as the serving girl came over, stuffing it and the map back into his pocket.
“You gents gonna order something?” she asked, eyeing them suspiciously.
“Aye,” Jack flashed his most disarming smile. “Landlord at the Cock and Bull recommended we come here. Said you serve the finest rum on the island.”
“No finer, that’s the truth.” The girl agreed, returning his smile.
Jack placed a finger to his lips in thought, before pointing at her. “I always heard the best rum came from the Drax estate.”
The girl’s smile faded and she shook her head. “Best not be mentioning that place around here.”
“Why not?” Will asked. “No one lives there anymore, do they?”
She shook her head. “No one dares go near the place. Not after…”
“Nellie!” A man’s voice boomed from across the room. “Quit your jawin’ and get these plates out to the customers.”
The girl gave an apprehensive glance over her shoulder. “I best be getting the regulars their supper. Tom doesn’t’t like t’ keep them waiting.” She wiped her hands nervously on her apron. “Don’t let Tom hear mention of the Hall, or he’ll have you out on your ear in no time.”
“Is that so?” Jack mused. “Then, we best not mention it.” His lips quirked slightly as he watched the girl hurry across the room.
Will watched with narrowed eyes. “She’s afraid of something.”
“Something,” Jack agreed, returning his hand on Will’s knee. “Or someone.”
****
The morning fog had lifted, though the day remained cold and gray. A light drizzle was falling as Jack and Will made their way down the narrow winding roads along the waterfront. Gibbs had returned to the Pearl, after agreeing to meet up with them later at the Cock and Bull. No amount of persuading on Jack’s part would get him to step one foot back in the boarding house.
“All the more better for us, luv,” Jack said cheerfully, throwing a casual arm around Will’s shoulders. “With the whole crew convinced the place is haunted, we need not worry about any disturbances, do we now?”
Will leaned into Jack’s arm and brought him to a halt before they rounded the corner. “None but the ghost herself,” he grinned, wrapping an arm around Jack’s waist, turning to face him. Both men glanced over, and upon finding the road empty, dared to indulge in a quick kiss.
Parting, a few more steps brought them into a wider lane and Will’s smile faded as he noticed the destination Jack had in mind. “You don’t plan on going in there, do you?”
In front of them stood the crumbling walls and ornate iron gate of the town’s cemetery.
“Of course!” Jack wrapped an arm around Will’s shoulders again, and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Where better to find out more about the fine citizens of this town, aye?”
Will dug in his heels, bringing both of them to a halt. “What does any of this have to do with the treasure map, Jack?”
“It doesn’t.” Jack didn’t seem perturbed at all. Instead he was glancing around the street with a cautious air. “But it has plenty to do with the riddle. Think about it.” Jack waved an arm in the general direction of the graveyard. “What do they have, that we don’t have any use for?”
Seeing not a living soul in sight, he didn’t give Will time for more questions. Giving the gate a shove and tugging realization-struck Will along, Jack soon had them both within the shadowy walls of the graveyard.
Will stood put, arms folded and a humoured, questioning rimple on his brow, as Jack began poking around the moldering grave markers, brushing away the overgrowth and squatting down to read the inscriptions. After the amusement of watching Jack bounce around waned, Will finally spoke up.
“What exactly are we looking for?”
“A grave.” Jack straightened and gave Will his most innocent look.
“Really?” Will sighed and rolled his eyes. Tapping his fingers against his arms he tried again. “Anyone we know?”
“Aye. Well, not personally…” Jack looked around distractedly and exclaimed, “Ah ha!” before darting off across the mist shrouded ground.
Will followed at a more cautious pace, reaching Jack just as he was descending the stairs to an ornate vault set within a burial plot surrounded by a low iron fence.
“Locked!” came the muffled complaint with a rattle. “Bloody buggering hell.”
Will ignored the string of oaths as he brushed away some lichens to read the inscription.
“Jack?” He squatted down and scraped the moss away from the stone. “What did the innkeeper say the girl’s name was that killed herself?”
Jack climbed up to where Will was hunched and crouched next to him, leaning his arm on Will’s back. “Maria. Harlot?” He frowned. “No, Harriet. Hadalot. Hemlock.”
Will snapped his head up. “Hallett.”
“That’s the one! Hallett!” Jack grinned. “Why the sudden interest in peeping ghosts?”
Will pointed at the tomb. The name carved in the stone was weathered and worn, but still legible.
MARIA HALLETT ###X,
Beloved Daughter
“Looks like the last word’s been scratched out.” Will ran a finger softly across the marred surface. “Someone’s tried to obliterate the letters.”
Jack stood, a satisfied look on his face. “Appears we do know her personally.” He smirked at Will’s sudden self-consciousness. “And, if I am not mistaken, the name someone took such pains to remove, is none other that Drax.”
****
- dd & mz
Chapter 3 - Tales From The Crypt
****
The narrow street of the dreary port town rolled down to the harbour front, where once the seediest taverns had poured the thinnest of ales. You could almost hear the echo of the raucous laughter and clatter of coins seeping out from the dilapidated buildings, their windows dark and shuttered, their once gaily painted signs, now peeling and faded, creaking desolately in the fitful breeze. In days gone by, people had come and gone like the passing of the tides. There had been plenty of places for a sailor to spend his money and everybody expected a profit.
Jack and Will turned their collars up to the damp and cold, speaking in hushed tones as they made their way down the fog shrouded street towards the Crown and Thorn, one of the few surviving businesses in the once thriving seaside village. A pervading sense of despair and decay settled along with the chilling mist on the two men’s shoulders, the heavy blanket of fog muffling the sound of their footsteps upon the damp cobblestones.
“What happened here?” Will asked quietly, looking curiously around at the deserted buildings. “Where did they all go?”
Jack shrugged. “Somewhere cheerier, I imagine.” He pulled a scrap of cloth out of his pocket and waggled it under Will’s nose. “All the better for us to be left alone to our own devices. Don’t need a gaggle of curious townsfolk wondering what we’re doing up at the great house.”
“So you’re planning on going up there, after all?” Will shivered slightly and pulled his coat closer around his throat. “Despite all the warnings?”
“No. Because of them.” Jack grinned widely. “Whatever the truth, there’s a reason the folks in this town don’t want us visiting the place. All the more reason to do just that, aye?”
They stopped outside the door to the tavern, the feeble light spilling from the window barely piercing the gloom outside. Pocketing the scrap of cloth, Jack smiled briefly. “Perhaps this Nellie can cast some light on the matter, eh?”
The two ducked through the doorway into the dimly lit room, the low ceilings blackened with years of candle soot and tobacco smoke. A mishmash of patrons were scattered among the wooden tables and benches. Several of the Black Pearl’s crew were gathered around a table in the far corner, engaged in solemn conversation. Gibbs was also there, sitting off to one side by himself, a resigned look on his face.
Seeing the new arrivals, Gibbs resolutely waved them over, his face, as usual, an open book. Jack knew before he opened his mouth, what his quartermaster was going to say.
“Cap’n, I’m afraid…” Gibbs was interrupted by a shushing finger of Jack’s.
“No worries, mate.” Jack glanced around the dim lit room, before sliding onto the bench opposite Gibbs, and out of earshot of the rest of the crew. “Best not be announcing it to the world, savvy?”
Gibbs raised his eyebrows inquisitively. “You think that perhaps…” he began again, only to be hushed again.
Leaning forward, Jack waggled a finger under Gibb’s nose. “If you might, Mr. Gibbs, see that the men are given a third portion of their “wages,” and inform them we will be staying in port until further notice.”
“Not likely the men’ll be wantin’ t’ stay in this town longer’n necessary, Cap’n.” Gibbs whispered in return. “There’s plenty of talk about the place, of things being a bit peculiar, ‘specially when the moon is full.”
Jack chuckled. “Afraid of things that go bump in the night, are they?” He nodded towards where Will was standing, warily watching the room beyond. “Will there can attest, the place is full of them.”
“So, what now, Cap’n?”
Jack pulled out the scrap of cloth again and, after looking around once more, spread it out on the table between them. It appeared to be a map of some sort, roughly sketched on a piece of leather. The map was a curious affair, with a compass rose in its center, from which various lines radiated outward. In the upper right corner of the map, there was the jagged outline of a coast. Several prominent landmarks were noted, including the words Drax Hall under a large X.
“Seeing as you were unable to locate the coppersmith,” Jack smirked, noting the surprised look on Gibbs’ face, and beckoned Will to come over. “We’ll just have to go with the information we already have.”
Will joined them, pulling a chair around next to where Jack was sitting. Nodding to Will, Jack pulled a crumpled piece of parchment out of his pocket, on which were scribbled some words. “Maybe we should look at it again, piece by piece, and see if we can make sense of it.” He smoothed the parchment out and slid it along the table in front of Will, his other hand coming to rest on Will’s thigh under the table, out of sight. “Perhaps, dear William, you will do the honours and read it aloud for us?”
Clearing his throat, Will casually put his hand over Jack’s and recited the few lines he knew by heart by now.
Who makes it, has no need of it.
Who buys it, has no use for it.
Who uses it can neither see nor feel it.
Will pushed the parchment back to Jack, shaking his head with a frown. “It doesn’t make any more sense than it did the first time.”
Gibbs scratched his head. “Not much help, that is. Could be just about anything.”
“No, not when you think of it.” Jack tapped his finger on the cryptic message thoughtfully. He was about to say something more, but hastily folded the parchment as the serving girl came over, stuffing it and the map back into his pocket.
“You gents gonna order something?” she asked, eyeing them suspiciously.
“Aye,” Jack flashed his most disarming smile. “Landlord at the Cock and Bull recommended we come here. Said you serve the finest rum on the island.”
“No finer, that’s the truth.” The girl agreed, returning his smile.
Jack placed a finger to his lips in thought, before pointing at her. “I always heard the best rum came from the Drax estate.”
The girl’s smile faded and she shook her head. “Best not be mentioning that place around here.”
“Why not?” Will asked. “No one lives there anymore, do they?”
She shook her head. “No one dares go near the place. Not after…”
“Nellie!” A man’s voice boomed from across the room. “Quit your jawin’ and get these plates out to the customers.”
The girl gave an apprehensive glance over her shoulder. “I best be getting the regulars their supper. Tom doesn’t’t like t’ keep them waiting.” She wiped her hands nervously on her apron. “Don’t let Tom hear mention of the Hall, or he’ll have you out on your ear in no time.”
“Is that so?” Jack mused. “Then, we best not mention it.” His lips quirked slightly as he watched the girl hurry across the room.
Will watched with narrowed eyes. “She’s afraid of something.”
“Something,” Jack agreed, returning his hand on Will’s knee. “Or someone.”
****
The morning fog had lifted, though the day remained cold and gray. A light drizzle was falling as Jack and Will made their way down the narrow winding roads along the waterfront. Gibbs had returned to the Pearl, after agreeing to meet up with them later at the Cock and Bull. No amount of persuading on Jack’s part would get him to step one foot back in the boarding house.
“All the more better for us, luv,” Jack said cheerfully, throwing a casual arm around Will’s shoulders. “With the whole crew convinced the place is haunted, we need not worry about any disturbances, do we now?”
Will leaned into Jack’s arm and brought him to a halt before they rounded the corner. “None but the ghost herself,” he grinned, wrapping an arm around Jack’s waist, turning to face him. Both men glanced over, and upon finding the road empty, dared to indulge in a quick kiss.
Parting, a few more steps brought them into a wider lane and Will’s smile faded as he noticed the destination Jack had in mind. “You don’t plan on going in there, do you?”
In front of them stood the crumbling walls and ornate iron gate of the town’s cemetery.
“Of course!” Jack wrapped an arm around Will’s shoulders again, and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Where better to find out more about the fine citizens of this town, aye?”
Will dug in his heels, bringing both of them to a halt. “What does any of this have to do with the treasure map, Jack?”
“It doesn’t.” Jack didn’t seem perturbed at all. Instead he was glancing around the street with a cautious air. “But it has plenty to do with the riddle. Think about it.” Jack waved an arm in the general direction of the graveyard. “What do they have, that we don’t have any use for?”
Seeing not a living soul in sight, he didn’t give Will time for more questions. Giving the gate a shove and tugging realization-struck Will along, Jack soon had them both within the shadowy walls of the graveyard.
Will stood put, arms folded and a humoured, questioning rimple on his brow, as Jack began poking around the moldering grave markers, brushing away the overgrowth and squatting down to read the inscriptions. After the amusement of watching Jack bounce around waned, Will finally spoke up.
“What exactly are we looking for?”
“A grave.” Jack straightened and gave Will his most innocent look.
“Really?” Will sighed and rolled his eyes. Tapping his fingers against his arms he tried again. “Anyone we know?”
“Aye. Well, not personally…” Jack looked around distractedly and exclaimed, “Ah ha!” before darting off across the mist shrouded ground.
Will followed at a more cautious pace, reaching Jack just as he was descending the stairs to an ornate vault set within a burial plot surrounded by a low iron fence.
“Locked!” came the muffled complaint with a rattle. “Bloody buggering hell.”
Will ignored the string of oaths as he brushed away some lichens to read the inscription.
“Jack?” He squatted down and scraped the moss away from the stone. “What did the innkeeper say the girl’s name was that killed herself?”
Jack climbed up to where Will was hunched and crouched next to him, leaning his arm on Will’s back. “Maria. Harlot?” He frowned. “No, Harriet. Hadalot. Hemlock.”
Will snapped his head up. “Hallett.”
“That’s the one! Hallett!” Jack grinned. “Why the sudden interest in peeping ghosts?”
Will pointed at the tomb. The name carved in the stone was weathered and worn, but still legible.
MARIA HALLETT ###X,
Beloved Daughter
“Looks like the last word’s been scratched out.” Will ran a finger softly across the marred surface. “Someone’s tried to obliterate the letters.”
Jack stood, a satisfied look on his face. “Appears we do know her personally.” He smirked at Will’s sudden self-consciousness. “And, if I am not mistaken, the name someone took such pains to remove, is none other that Drax.”
****