Legends of the Treasure Child

John stood on the deck of the Crimson Lotus, gazing at the skies. The Thyrion flew away, over his head, away from the Black Pearl whose outline could be seen against the morning horizon. Bugger! How did the demon manage to track down the Pearl so fast? Foul play for sure. He turned and kicked the hull in frustration, earning himself whimpers from his priest slaves. Rutherford moaned, sliding his dirty hands along her railing, coming closer to John. He immediately fell to his knees beside him, begging for John to have him one more time. The lust between his thighs was unbearable, despite of the blood leaking from his hole. He moaned in pain, pushing, and soon there was a clonk on the floorboards. He sighed in relief, looking up to lock eyes with John’s golden ones.

“It hurts yet you still crave more...! What do you suppose God would say if he knew of your wantonness, priest? Would he condemn you? Or save you? Have you see the light?” John squatted next to Rutherford, and the priest’s cracked lips immediately crushed upon his. The priest then grinded himself against John in reply, not wanting to think about God or any other existence beyond this one. He didn’t have to. For in the back of his mind he knew this would be his Hell on Earth forever, for John was about to live. How could he bear it? How would he endure? How would he get by without John’s cock up his ass?

“Oh so eager...!” John whispered, his lush lips almost touching Rutherford’s, avoiding his further attempts at drinking in the taste of a half demon’s lips, of fulfilment. Instead, he closed his fingers around Rutherford’s throat, squeezing until Rutherford couldn’t breathe. The enormous lust in his loins, combined with the choking sent him spinning into an orgasm quite without having been touched at all. John grinned then squeezed harder, and Rutherford wriggled a bit, fought a bit, then lost consciousness. John dropped him to the deck, laughing grimly, standing up. He looked over to Corbex, who’d witnessed the entire thing. Now, the horned priest who looked more and more like an imp rather than human, was squatting, embracing his knees with his arms, rocking back and forth, laughing and sobbing at what he’d just seen. His mind was so far gone, he imagined it all to be a dream. Losing himself piece by piece and growing horns was simply too much. For he was a weak soul, and did not deserve the light of God. So he might just as well serve the devil. He continued to rock, looking up at john as John began to utter a spell, and blue glowing symbols manifested themselves in the air above his head. A dreadful creature, a man with his lower jaw dangling, bloodshed eyes and a wild beastly look on his face, appeared out of thin air. The man howled, caught eye of Corbex and immediately charged for him, his hands outstretched, ready for attack. John restrained him by the chain attached from a collar around his neck, and the maimed man fell hard onto the floor. John dragged him by the chain upstairs to the wheel, where the man was chained and reined to the wheel itself.

“There you go, Grandpa! That should suit you just fine! My lady” John looked up to the Crimson Lotus’ sails, “his yours, as we agreed. Now I must go. Be a good lass, now!”

John shed his clothes until he was all naked, and then climbed onto the railing before he dove off into the vast blue.
The cool water embraced him, immediately opening his senses. His legs melted together, and his toes grew into fins, stretching, growing long. He dove deeper, sensing the sea creatures around him, the souls of the dead on the bottom of the ocean beneath him, waiting for Captain Turner and the Flying Dutchman. He abruptly stopped and paused, gazing into another direction as a flash of insight hit him. He saw himself on the deck of the Dutchman, talking to Will Turner, Will being sad. A sombre topic, but John couldn’t make out what it was about. He let the vision pass, and moved on to follow the wake of the Black Pearl, and he did not like what he found upon reaching out with his senses. The Pearl had picked up on him, knew he was coming, and her voice in his head was shaking with anger and fright, as she had sought to fight off the Thyrion as best as she could. But her defences had been broken. Only a fraction of his spells on her remained. She showed him images of creatures crawling up on her deck at night. Some strong magic was at work. It surprised him to find that they were angelspawn, and it had allowed them to come unnoticed, forcing the crosses from the enchanted wood.
John reflected upon this. He’d already forseen that God would see him one day. Truly see him, and when that happened, John would have the mark of Stigmata on his body. That wasn’t a good thing, especially since he was a half demon and all that. The prospect of standing face to face with God himself, now that was frightening, for it meant that John might lose himself completely, burning his demon half to cinders. And any mortal who ever stood to gaze at God’s true face, never survived. Having the Stigmata, to be touched by God as it were, meant to be touched only by a small fragment of his immense power. It usually warped the mind, for even such a small touch was too much for any mortal man. God was simply too great to know.
Angelspawn, John said to himself, were creatures made of light, spawned by lesser angels who had their own agenda on Earth. Bloody brats the lot of them. He ought to give them all a decent pounding from behind, loosen them up a little!
He was startled to find the thoughts of his unborn brothers reaching out to him, greeting him. They swarmed him like moths to a flame, curious of who he was and how he felt. Most of all, they were frightened, so very frightened and very hurt. They were fragile, and had barely survived the attack. The angelspawn had attempted to take their souls, to draw them out so they would die, forcing Jack into a spontaneous abortion. They’d dug their small spectral claws into his soul, hanging on for their lives, resisting the celestial spells. Now they’d been frightened into silence, scared of showing their presence.

John swam faster, crossing the paths of great white sharks and dolphins, past sunken ships and coral reeves, steadily gaining on the Pearl.

He hauled himself up onto the deck of the Pearl when it was early in the evening. The crew of the Pearl stopped to stare as he swung his magnificent golden fishtail over the railing, splattering sea water onto the crew. He smelled food, and guessed that dinner was about ready. Then he saw the injuries, the tattered sails and sombre mood of the crew. They all eyed with caution he hadn’t seen before. Only Gibbs came to greet him. John quickly rid himself of his fishtail, his legs taking form again, and he rose to stand a head taller than everyone, his skin gleaming golden in the evening sun, bathing his dark brown hair with a bronze light. His eyes looked almost transparent in the sunlight, and he strode quickly to find his father.

Jack stood just outside the cabin, and his face instantly lit up as he locked eyes with John, greeting him with open arms.

“There ye are, lad!” he said, embracing John’s wet body. The joy was tripled, for the unborn brothers in Jack’s stomach sensed that his distress was soothed, and they let themselves go for a moment, joining with John’s soul. Jack stopped to look at John in amazement and surprise, and then looked downwards to his stomach. He gasped in relief as he heard their voices, felt them flutter like butterflies in his head, felt their presence really fill him. Jack welcomed it this time, remembering back to the early days when he’d been pregnant with John, feeling in terror how John’s soul had settled inside him like a renter moving inside a brand new apartment, only John never paid any rent. At one point, Jack had been convinced he’d gone mad, or worse, possessed. Then he’d begun to know the difference. This time, the difference was easy to spot. He held John tight, and whispered into his ear: “Don’t leave again, John! Please stay!” Jack immediately let go off John before the lad had any time to reply, eyed those who were watching and those who pretended not to be watching, and said sternly and clearly to John: “About time, boy! What took you so long?! Have you any idea what I, the Captain of the Black Pearl had to endure while you were gone?! Have you? Son?”

“Must be drafty, sleeping without your door” John smiled politely, indicating to the doorway. He walked over and eyed the empty slots for the crosses, then went inside. The cabin was a mess, and upon seeing the footprints of the Thyrion burnt into the wooden boards, he understood why Jack stayed outside. There was something else as well. A smell which lingered, and it had a celestial tint.

“Bloody bugger!” John said, surveying the damage to the window. He looked closer, inspecting the edges, and reached from a toppled over bowl on the desk, adding something to it.
“Aha!” he exclaimed, “now here’s a little something to build a spell from…!” He didn’t notice that Jack had come up behind him, touching his back lightly, offering him a shirt.

“There was a man. A beautiful young man which kinda reminded me of that eunuch Turner. He was offering me the mask, John! The golden mask! He wanted me to wear it. And it kept appearing on me desk, right over there, day after day!”

John closed his eyes, eyeing the past days of Jack’s life ever since the crosses disappeared. He then opened them, horrified at what he’d seen.

“They tried to kill my brothers!”

“They? No it was that man I tell ye”, Jack pointed to the stained glass featuring the image of the long gone Prince Consort to the Demon King Thyrion.

“Blasted angelspawn! Bloody useless critters the lot of them! The creatures of heavens easily take forms of human flesh. They used his image, trying to trick you into voluntarily binding yourself to them, killing my brothers in the process.”

“But the mask? On me desk? It wasn’t a mask? And he was there when the Thyrion came, and he spoke but I couldn’t understand a word!” The words fell out of Jack’s mouth.

“I understand, look, Dad, let’s sit down for a minute and I’ll try to explain it to ye” he said, motioning for Jack to come sit on Jack’s bed. Jack followed his lead, watching his son’s muscles flex as John put on the shirt, concealing his chest. The shirt ended just below his penis, and Jack noticed the hem of the shirt play and tease against the soft skin of John’s testicles. John sat down, meeting his father’s gaze openly.

“He said you were made to dominate, John. He called you a warlord, he even smelled your pillow, he—“

“—hang on now, Dad. Who said that?”

“That wretched demon father of yours. He made me feel like…, like I was something less than human, like I was a breeding animal, a cow which needed to be controlled. And that you were, “—and that I, and…!”

“Don’t listen. You musn’t listen. His head’s in the clouds, he’s a demon for Christ’s sake” John sighed. “Now about the mask and what happened here, it’s important you know, for a great battle has taken place while you have been unaware of it. I put those crosses into the slots of the Pearl so you would be shielded not only from the Thyrion, but also from the struggle of the celestial powers versus the demonic ones. Unlike the demons, the angelspawn, who are familiars of the arch angels and their peers, will stop at nothing to get to their goal. Ironic enough, nothing is holy to them, and they’ll use you again and again if they get the chance. They come in any shape, and the one you met outside who stabbed you, used the image or the essence of my forefather to get to you. The Prince Consort, you know, was the Thyrion’s devoted slave, surrendering completely, and he voluntarily wore the mask to please his master. Thinking you probably were just as devoted, the angelspawn attempted to trick you into putting on a similar object. The Collar of the Wicked. He would have trapped you, and killed them. And he would have used you to get to me. Those were the ones who took the crosses. I guess they could do so because the crosses are, well, celestial as well” John paused as Jack sighed, taking in the information, “it did take a lot of effort though. A lot of angelspawn died trying to remove them. I put them there to protect you from the struggle, and as soon as they were gone…! Then, came the demons, and with them, the spirit of the Prince Consort. He foresaw this in his eternal sleep. He was really here, Dad! And that gives me the creeps! He fetched the mask from the Thyrion’s castle, he knew the demon would pick up the trail, and he wanted you to wear it because that is the one thing, the one solution he knew about which made him feel safe and protected when he was alive, thousands of years ago. He thought it would make you feel the same. Oh, I you could only feel the energy he’s left in this room, the traumas and feelings! That poor sod” John said, looking up in the roof, “his sentiments remains, yet I cannot make out the words he spoke to you, Dad. He was angry with you for not doing something, asking how you could be so blind not to see—, see the angelspawn”, John said, his eyes shut to better distinguish the various essences of the room.

“But the babies are fine?”

“They are weak, and scared, clinging to your soul in fear of dying. Only the ghost of the Prince Consort and whatever demons that sustained him with powers, stood between them and your children until the Thyrion managed to arrive.

“You speak of his arrival as a good thing” Jack said, straightening away from John a little.

“In this case, it was in deed a good thing” John said diplomatically, sensing he’d just insulted his father a tad. “But I do understand your concern. I understand that you’re frightened” John continued.

“Mark me words, son, one day I’ll cut off tha’ ridiculously long cock of his and feed it to him on a silver plate!”

“I hear you. But then I won’t be getting any more brothers. And if I won’t be getting anymore brothers, then that Turner fellow is going to come waltzing in here one day, showing off, telling you ‘who’s the eunuch now, ey?’ and show off that horrendously large bunch of mini-Turners while you just stand over in the corner with your tiny triangle of sons while he laughs in your face, now think about that, Dad.”

“That is a horrible thought, indeed!” Jack said, lost in the prospect of losing again to Will. First the Swann girl, then the Swann girl a second time, leaving him with a lousy kiss, and then she leaves him for that Turner fellow to go sleeping with him on some sandy beach, oh yes he remembered having seen them through his spyglass as they disappeared into a cave. Bloody holy bugger! How life was unfair. And here Jack sat, knocked up by a bloody demon! Was Will going to win? Not likely. “He could be a lot nicer though, your other Dad” Jack said, “and a lot gentler, and he should do somethin’ with the size of, well you know wha’ I mean. He’s got a nice voice. I like his voice. And he’s good looking, tha’ helps. But he wants to cut of me arms and legs.”

“If he spoke to you, then it means he was pretty desperate. Thyrion wouldn’t speak unless he’s really involved in something. Like love. Or …love. He’s beginning to care for you as a person, I think. I’ve been thinking about trapping him. That I should work out a so called ‘houre glass’ spell.”

“How does it work?”

“It binds him in human form, weakens him and allows you to control him. You take his demonic powers from him and force them into an hour glass, a tiny one which you have to war on your person for all time. And if it breaks, then his powers are unleashed and he turns back into a demon.”

“Why an hour glass?” Jack wanted to know.

“Because that’s how it works. You freeze his powers in time inside the hour glass, or something like that. And once he’s in human form, you do with him as you please, except killing him.”

“Too bad. I’m beginning to like the prospect of slaying him”.

“Hush, Dad! It’s our father you’re talking about, think of the children”, John complained with hushed voice. They continued their conversation for a while, until the pleasing smell of deliciously cooked food caught their attention.